#no worries shell soon be free of all it........

[alicentalicent]

bro it's your coronation but they're making it all about your mom. bro wait maybe this scene is about your mom fulfilling her duty. bro wait i think you're not the main character but your mom is.......

[bbydoll18xx]

She's Such a Good Girl

You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her. 

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Themes: reader is a shy lil baby, a few inappropriate thoughts, paige being a huge flirt

Masterlist

A/N: hiii cuties! So I had a few ideas I've been toying around with, so I merged them together and came up with this. Also the third part of 'I Can Do It With a Broken Heart' will hopefully be out soon but I'm still trying to figure out the direction I want to take it in. Enjoy!

~

Your breaths are ragged as you lug your final suitcase through the front door of your new apartment. It was your senior year at UCONN, and you and your roommates had been assigned a new apartment, which you were ecstatic about. Long gone were the days of being squished into an old dorm room. And you were very excited about the lack of noise, which had kept you from your much needed 10 hours of sleep the past few years.��

The August heat was stifling, but you welcomed the cool air coming through the vents, as you began organizing your new bedroom to perfection. Eagerness bubbled in your chest as you thought about your upcoming year before graduation. You’d finally be free. 

College was supposed to be the time to find yourself before being inevitably dragged into the cruel pits of the real world. It was the time to go wild, get drunk often, and maybe even meet the love of your life. But you had spent your weekends studying and fine tuning the ‘good girl’ persona that you had adopted when you were a child. 

You were the eldest daughter with a raging people pleasing complex, and it was starting to feel like your downfall. Your two roommates had found adoring boyfriends, and they often found themselves drunk as hell on the weekends, reveling in being young and carefree. You were growing to hate your crippling shyness.

You’d be lying if you said your lack of experience hadn’t started to weigh on you. You really wanted to learn how to put yourself out there. But you were dreadfully shy, and the idea of dating or hooking up was terrifying. Your innocence was fucking embarrassing. How would you explain to someone that you were a virgin? And what if they thought you were too timid to be good in bed?

So you just continued on as you had been throughout college; you studied, and you buried yourself in your imagination, and you prayed and hoped that someone would be willing to overlook all of your own insecurities. 

Your thoughts of pity are interrupted by your two roommates calling your name. You walk out of your bedroom into the living room where the two girls are sharing shiteating grins, and you send them a questioning look.

“You’ll never guess who is across the hall from us,” Sarah says slyly, causing a pang of worry to shoot through your chest. The smirk on her face grew as you asked who it was.

“Paige Bueckers,” your other roommate, Taylor, shrieks as your face turns bright red.

Fuck. 

“You’re fucking joking, right?” You whisper, eyes automatically flitting towards your door. 

“Nope! I saw her and Aubrey Griffin walk out of the apartment literally five minutes ago,” Taylor announces, laughing as you fall backwards onto the couch.

“This is not good,” you whine dramatically, hands covering your face. 

“Now you can see her pretty face every day,” Sarah all but sings, taking great pleasure in how uncomfortable you felt.

You scoff in indignation. “I can see her pretty face every day from the safety and comfort of my phone. It’s not like I’m actually ever going to talk to her.”

Your roommates pout at your sheer stubbornness. They had been trying to get you out of your shell from the last few years, much to your displeasure. 

“C’mon, you’re so hot. You could totally catch Paige’s eye. You gotta have more confidence, girl,” Taylor all but whines exasperatedly. 

“Yeah, sure,” you snort derisively. “Maybe while I’m at it, I can rizz up Harry Styles.” You roll your eyes at their ridiculousness.

They sigh in unison, stopping their pleading.

“We’ll just have to see what happens,” Taylor says with a dramatic wink, causing you to stick out your tongue childishly. 

“I have spent the last three years avoiding Paige Bueckers’ beauty. I can do it one more year.”

Little did you know, though, that it would become quite hard to avoid the tall blonde.

~

Friday evening rolls around quickly, and because it was the last weekend before classes started, the students were eager to party it up. You had hoped the apartment building would be quiet, empty from the throngs of students out partying elsewhere. But the girls of the basketball team had other ideas.

The last few days, you had seen multiple girls coming and going from Paige’s apartment. The noise had been loud, but nothing too crazy. It was well known that the girls often went live on tiktok or instagram, and you had heard their laughter across the hall last night. So far, though, the volume levels had maintained a respectable level. 

You had obviously jinxed yourself by thinking that, as the laughter and music pounded through your own walls. The cacophonous sound sent you spiraling. If you wanted them to be quieter, you would have to go ask them to turn it down, and you hated confrontation.

But you were alone tonight, and if you wanted to go to sleep at a decent hour, that was your only option. 

You move in front of the mirror in your bathroom, subconsciously fixing your hair and muttering words of encouragement to yourself. You could do this. Paige is just a regular person. Sure, she was ridiculously attractive, but she was just a girl.

You walk out of the apartment into the hallway, your heart pounding dangerously as you near the door. The volume was insane, and you felt momentarily sad that you were wasting your Friday night alone at home, while everyone was having the time of their lives. 

You shake your head, internally chastising yourself for the brutal thoughts, and with all the courage you could muster up, you knock loudly on the door, hoping the basketball team could hear it through the noise. 

A few moments pass, and you momentarily think you’re about to pass out before the door opens and you are met with the glorious face of Paige fucking Bueckers. 

You gulp, immediately grabbing a lock of hair to play with, desperately attempting to mask your anxiety. You bite your lip and look up at her.

“H-hi,” you stutter, feeling the blush bloom in your cheeks. “I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but the music is a little loud.”

Paige's face morphs into a look of surprise. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I told KK to turn it down, but no one listens to me around here,” she jokes. “You live across the hall, right? I’m Paige!”

Her friendliness doesn’t necessarily shock you; she was well known for being a genuinely kind person around campus, but the fact that she knew who you were does shock you.

“Uh, yeah I do.” You introduce yourself with a shy smile, growing warmer under her gaze.

“Why don’t you come hang with us?” She prods, gesturing towards the living room with a large grin on her beautiful fucking face. 

Your carefully crafted plan to forget about Paige this year was crumbling around you. And before you could even begin to thinking about stopping yourself, you shyly accept her invitation.

There was no going back now. 

Paige ushers you in, leading you into the chaos, where most of the basketball team were enthralled in making tiktoks. 

As you walk in and stand next to Paige, you look around, all but staring at the tall girls. The whole basketball team was ridiculously attractive, and it made your shyness increase tenfold. Paige gets their attention, and their eyes turn to you as Paige introduces you. 

“She just moved in across the hall. And I told you the music was too loud, KK,” Paige adds, sending a sharp look towards the younger girl. 

She grins mischievously, walking up to you with the swagger you could only dream of having. 

“Sorry, girly pop, we’ll keep it down next time,” KK says, sending you a wink. You giggle in response, feeling more at ease already. 

Paige introduces you to the rest of the team. They’re all so friendly, and your nervous demeanor slowly melts away as you acclimate to their boisterousness. They take turns talking to you, but Paige stays beside you, never being more than an arms length away. 

You weren’t going to read into it. But the little voice in your head was screaming in both apprehension and glee. In the same way, you did not want to leave her side. In an insanely short amount of time, her presence had become a comfort to you, and you weren’t quite ready to give that up yet. So despite it being well past your respectable bedtime, you powered through, Paige’s aura energizing you. 

As you mused over your thoughts, Paige was stuck in her own head. She had seen you around campus before; your pretty face was a difficult one to forget, and she was secretly delighted when she had opened her door to reveal your timid face. 

She was determined to break you out of your shell. Little did she know how much she would. 

~

You look down at your phone a while later, and you’re shocked to see that it was just past midnight. You could not remember the last time you were out that late, and a yawn threatens to escape from the depths of your throat. You subtly rub at your eyes, and Paige doesn’t miss it. 

She nudges you, and you look up to gaze at her bright blue eyes.

God, she was so pretty. 

“You sleepy?” She asks teasingly, and you nod, a blush creeping up your neck again. 

“I’m not used to staying up this late. I should probably head back home,” you say, regret lacing your words. 

Paige nods, standing up to walk you out to the door. You don’t miss how her hand grazes your waist as she guides you. 

You wave goodbye to the girls who still remained, and they enthusiastically bid you a goodnight, making you promise to join them again soon. 

“Thanks for letting me crash,” you profess, heart still pounding dangerously from the subtle touches, tingles on your waist left in her wake. 

“Course,” she shrugs, a smirk on her face. She hands you her phone. “Let me know if we’re too loud again,” she whispers, leaning down to your ear. 

Her closeness has you flustered, and you quickly enter your contact information, avoiding the heat of her gaze. 

As you hand her cell phone back, her fingers brush across yours, and you subconsciously bite your lip to hold back a shaky breath from the view of her long fingers and her big, veiny hands. 

Fuck. 

The smirk doesn’t fade from Paige’s face as she notices you staring, and your face erupts in a vicious blush once more. . 

With a bashful wave and a smile, you leave, all but running back into your apartment. Your heart was pounding, and there was a slight ache down in your most intimate area that had you squirming in desire. 

Your little crush on Paige had been unrelenting the last few years, but it was still just casual. Things had changed, though, and now your feelings were undeniable. Long gone were the days of ignoring your sexuality.

Paige was so hot. And you were so screwed. 

~

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Please, please, please let me know what you think and if you want another part (or more)! Again, thanks for all the love and support!

xoxo katy

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, headlock🤤, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of fluff at the end

A/n: as promised, as soon as I came out of the cinema I started working on this! It’s not as nasty as I wanted it to be, but I’ll work on that🩷

Your bedroom smelled strongly of sex and sweat, loud moans along with praise mixed with degrading were bouncing off the tall walls, surely gaining the two of you a few noise complaints the next day. You were splayed in the middle of your huge queen-sized bed, head pressed into soft pillows and ass high up in the air as your boyfriend was dogging the shit out of you, making sure that your pussy was raw and thoroughly fucked.

You’ve been at it for hours - your sheets were wet with sweat and other bodily fluids, your ass felt hot from all the spanks Miguel generously delivered. Your throat felt sore from all the moaning and previous face-fucking, musky taste of Miguel’s cock still lingered on your tongue. You felt like a rag doll in your lover’s strong arms, too tired to move by yourself, but too greedy for pleasure to actually stop this sweet torture.

Miguel yanked your hips up higher, getting a firm grip on your waist; he shifted a bit, placing one foot on the mattress for better range of movements. A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your kiss-swollen lips as brunette absolutely ravaged you - he pounded your poor dripping pussy with so much vigor that your body shifted forward with each thrust, heavy balls slapping against your clammy skin with loud smacking sounds. Miguel’s large hands moved to smack your pretty ass so it jiggled in his palms, relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh afterwards.

- Just look at this greedy pussy, taking every inch of me like a cock-hungry slut. Bet you were thinking about it whole day long, huh? - Miguel rasped above you, his filthy words caused heat rising up to your cheeks as you buried your face even deeper into soft pillows, but they couldn’t hide your reddened ears form his sharp eyes.

Miguel leaned down, one massive arm sliding underneath your neck, so that your chin was tucked right in the hollow of his elbow; a few moments later your face was squished in between male’s bulking bicep and a thick forearm, trapped in a firm headlock. He put most of his body weight onto your small body, pounding your dripping cunt into the bouncy mattress, stretching you out on his mighty girth, making your eyes roll back in intense pleasure. You felt Miguel’s free hand slipping underneath your tummy, finding your throbbing needy clit in no time and massaging it brutally with rough fingertips, matching the roughness of his hips slamming into you from behind.

- Oh baby, you’re drooling, - Miguel tutted in feigned pity, his hot lips brushing the shell of your ear, making hairs on the back of your neck rise.

His words brought you out of heavy haze of pleasure, bringing some consciousness to your foggy mind. And, indeed, your chin felt cooler because of your drool covering it, some even dribbled down onto Miguel’s arm, getting in between your chin and his inner elbow. Your hands came to his arm around your neck, fingers digging into firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on scarred skin.

- Mig..uel, I’m-

- Shhh, my love. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you, - Miguel shushed you softly, his hips slapping against your ass with even more vigor, making you momentarily forget whatever it was that you wanted to say.

He hissed as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him, the suckle of your pussy sent his hips bucking and forcing his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. A familiar coil makes itself knows in the pit of your stomach - a telltale sign of your next orgasm approaching rapidly.

- Oh fuck bunny, fuck fuck fuck. Gonna fill that pussy with my cum, full and nice, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? - Miguel rambled next to your ear as his pace became faster and sloppier.

- Pl..ease. Fuck, need.. it. ‘m so close, - you managed to stutter through

Your body prickled with desire and heat, Miguel’s fingers worked diligently on your clit along with his massive cock spreading you open, thick cockhead mushing against all of your sweet spots - he very soon had you cumming all around him, wringing a mind-blowing orgasm out of your exhausted body, your release leaving a noticeable white ring on the base of his dick.

A string or curses and quiet whimpers reached your ears as Miguel’s snapped his hips into yours quickly before stilling completely. Strong shudder ran through male’s massive body and, with a final moan, he shoot his thick cum inside of your fluttering heat, flooding your insides with his warmth.

Miguel went slack against your back, his body mounding against yours as he laid atop of you, making you squeak quietly under his weight. He chuckled airily as he rolled off you to the side, sliding his softening cock out of your bruised pussy. You whined at the feeling of emptiness, warm sperm dripped out in a small dribble, staining your slit and sheets underneath you. Miguel scooped you up in his big arms and maneuvered you to lay on top of his heaving chest, thick fingers tangled in your messy hair, massaging your scalp lovingly.

You took a deep breath, cuddling deeper into your lover’s neck, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. Your eyelids felt too heavy and Miguel felt too comfy to lay on, so you were fighting off sleep as much as you could.

- Go to sleep baby, I’ll clean everything up, - you heard a soft murmur, warm lips kissing your forehead in a comforting manner. You hummed in acknowledgment, getting more comfortable in Miguel’s arms.

- Love you, - you whispered tiredly, sleep heavy on your lids.

- Love you too angel

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love🩷🩷

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Christmas Bells

Pairing: Dark Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: It’s your first Christmas with Bakugo and he makes sure it’s memorable. 

WARNINGS: Kidnapped reader; Implied Noncon/Abuse; Minor violence. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 Merry Christmas!

--

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, your name being called less than a moment later. 

“One minute!”

Suffocating back the sobs that insist on freeing themselves, your fingers desperately reach to wipe away the warm, sad tears that refuse to stop. You sniff, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the gross snot that clings to your nose. 

Looking in the mirror for a quick check turns out to be a mistake. Deep under eyes circles, runny nose, red puffy eyes - you look awful.

Even more when you compare your ugly crying face with the red and yellow soft cotton Christmas pajamas you’ve been coerced into wearing, the one Bakugo is matching.  

Couple pajamas, he had grumbled when giving you the box. Because it’s your first ever Christmas together and he wants it to be memorable. Special. 

Special for him yet a nightmare for you. 

The last couple days have been hell. Bakugo’s been unbearable to deal with, having taken a week off of the hero duty just so he can spend quality time with you. You fervently wish he hadn’t.

Every moment spent by his side makes you uneasy and anxious, constantly walking on egg-shells as you await for the bomb that Bakugo is to set off.

Truth be told, you don’t want to spend time with him. You simply want nothing to do with him. He has a special way to become abhorrently overwhelming. 

Forced to play house with a delusional Pro-Hero isn’t what you want. 

You don’t want to wake bunched up in the suffocating embrace of his arms as his thick cock forces itself inside you.

You don’t want to set up the Christmas tree with him, pretending to care every time he asks you where do you want each fucking shiny ornament to be.

You don’t want him to kiss you like you’re his everything - like you’re a happy loving couple that has just assembled their first Christmas tree together.

You don’t want to play the role of a diligent girlfriend that peels off vegetables, sets up the dining table and washes the dishes and yet you do all of these tasks, knowing otherwise you’ll receive nothing but a nasty backhand and a speech on being a ungrateful brat, something that will sour both of your moods for the rest of the day. 

You don’t want to-

There’s a harder knock on the door. 

“Hey, you died in there or what?” 

Tilting your face up, your eyes lock into the ceiling at the same time as you take in a deep breath that does little to calm your nerves. You’re so tired, so fucking exhausted. Can’t even spend five fucking minutes without the asshole hunting you down. 

Knowing you have less than 60 seconds till Bakugo gets angry or worried enough to break down the bathroom door, something you’d like to avoid given it’s the only door in the apartment that has a lock, you reluctantly drag your feet to the door. 

Bakugo pushes the door forward as soon as you turn the lock open, entering the bathroom as he takes a good look at you, fixing his glare at your red eyes, still moist from your latest crying session. 

“What took you so damn long?” his question resembles an accusation, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for whatever proof of an imaginary escape plan or so. 

“Nothing, was just washing my hands.” you lie, offering a placating smile. Bakugo nods, although distrust is still evident in his face but if there’s one thing you’ve learned is that suspicion is like a second nature to him.

Perhaps you deserve it but now, after almost 7 months after your last failed escape attempt, you’d think you’d been able to earn some trust. 

“C’mon, let’s go.” 

His hand reaches for yours, hot and firm as he always is, and you follow his lead as he takes you back to the living room. Confusion rattles your mind and you look up at Bakugo as he makes you settle on the couch by his side. 

“Hum…” you hesitate, lips parting as the blonde man lays his heavy arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, “...I thought-” 

“Huh?” he doesn’t bother looking at you, busy fumbling with the TV’s remote control. He skips movie after movie till he finally settles at one of the Home Alone movies. A Christmas classic, you think. 

“I mean, isn’t it past bedtime?” A glance towards the digital watch on the wall reveals it’s  five minutes till bedtime. Surprising and shocking at the same time, as never once did he let you - or him - to stay up till this late. “I thought the curfew was nine thirty?” 

“Will you shut up and just watch the damn movie?” he snaps. You seal your lips tight after that, face immediately whipped to the front to stare at the cinematic 34-foot TV although you pay little attention to it. 

Awkward silence reigns as you watch the movie.

Nostalgia hits you hard as the movie carries on, your mind wandering through old dusty memories. You as a child, watching this exact movie curled in between your parents, laughing your ass off at the on-screen shenanigans. Simpler and happier times.

A dull pain stabs your heart at the thought of your family. How are they coping with the fact that their daughter went missing so many months ago, not even a single clue to her case. 

A part of you wonders how Christmas is going to be celebrated back in your home country, if your mom is planning to leave a sock for you in the fireplace, as she always has or if your dad is finally gonna buy that gift you had not to subtly begged for Christmas all those months ago…

Your nails dig deep into the back of your hand, a microscopic attempt to keep the tears from spilling as your eyes begin to burn. You can’t fucking cry - you reprimand yourself - if you cry, Bakugo is gonna be upset. If Bakugo gets upset, then you’ll have to deal with the consequences. And you don’t want that. 

“It’s Christmas.” his deep voice breaks out the silence, so random and unexpected you’re not even sure he said anything. He keeps his face straight forward, locked into the screen, even as you’re under the impression that he’s paying as much attention to the movie as you are. 

Bakugo sighs, finally looking at you and you don’t like how his red eyes pierce right through you, leaving you helpless and naked under his gaze. Like he can read every single emotion that boils inside you.

“It’s Christmas.” he repeats, voice softening. “First Christmas together, I mean.” 

“Yeah.” you stiffly reply. 

“Besides, we gotta wait till midnight so you can open your gifts.” he adds, pointing a finger towards the lit up Christmas tree, where some packages wrapped in red paper lay by its base.

A side of you feels curious about them, but another part warns you that nothing good ever comes with Bakugo. When did he ever give you something that is free of restrictions? 

“I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don’t have a gift for you.” you explain. 

It’s a silly statement, although evident. You spend all day caged in his heavily-secured apartment with no way of leaving, no matter how much you’ve asked for it, and the few online shopping you’re allowed to do is on Bakugo’s laptop with the blonde man hunched over your shoulder, eagle-eyes following every purchase of yours. 

Bakugo shrugs off his broad shoulders, seemingly unbothered. 

Lacking the strength to further keep up with the pointless conversation you leave it at that. After a few minutes, the film fails to maintain your interest and soon you start drifting into a calm slumber, eyes drowsily slipping closed and barely aware of when Bakugo re-positions you so that your head lays onto the comfortable muscle of his bicep. 

Just a small nap, you sleepily think… 

“Hey, wake the hell up.” 

There’s an annoying tug at your arm. 

“Wake up, it’s time.” 

“Hm?”

Opening your eyes proves to be a difficult task with your eyelids awfully heavy. You yawn, sleep coating your features. 

Bakugo is no longer sitting by your side, but is bent in front of you, occupying all of your vision field. 

“It’s Christmas, already.” 

That certainly catches your attention, hands pushing against the couch to leverage you into a standing position. 

“Oh.” 

The clock marks exactly midnight and you stare at it, empty-minded. For a moment, you believe none of this is real, that you’ve imagined everything.

Any moment now, your family is going to start cheering and hugging you, felicitations and merry christmas’s being thrown around while everyone exchanges their gifts. 

Instead, reality hits you like a brick thrown to your face in the form of Bakugo’s squeezing hug, your face being pressed against his toned chest. 

“C’mon, let’s open your gifts.” he drags you to the tree, sitting on the wooden floor with his legs crossed as he pulls you into his lap, heavy arms immediately caging you in. 

“Start with that one.” Bakugo nudges a box with a rectangular shape to your way. 

It’s a bit heavy but as soon as your fingers reach for it, you immediately figure out it’s a book. 

As you unwrap the paper from the book, Bakugo squirms and pushes you a bit backwards, so your back meets his brawny chest.  

The cover of the book shows him - well, Dynamight portrayed in a comic artstyle.

“Dynamight’s Explosive Adventures” 

“It’s a comic book. Part of the new merch.” he slowly says. "Hasn't been released yet, and I warned the jerk editor that it can’t be published until my girl gives it her approval.”

You are surprised to learn how much Bakugo cared about your approval and opinion. A pleasant surprise and warmth rises to your cheeks. 

“That’s… really sweet.” you comment as Bakugo gives your neck a small peck. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he brushes it off, “Just make sure to read that quickly.”

“Okay.” you almost sing the word out. You hesitate for a moment. “Thanks.”

The atmosphere feels strangely lighter, happier. It’s silly to feel like this when it’s something so small, so insignificant.

Still, you can’t stop the little smile that tugs the corners of your lips as you open the remaining presents: a shiny golden hand bracelet that Katsuki immediately fastens it down your wrist, a lip oil collection that you vaguely remember being on your wishlist. 

All of them are just nice presents and you wonder if you were being a bit too dramatic about it earlier. 

Reaching for the last one, Bakugo practically throws the small box into your hands, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder, his breathing obnoxiously heavy in your ears but you don’t dare to complain.

His arms tighten around your waist for a moment and you wonder if he’s nervous about this one. 

You receive your answer soon enough, heart dropping to your stomach as soon as you open the velvet black box, revealing an elegant ring inside.

A diamond encrusted ring band, to be exact. A engagement ring. 

No. 

Oh God, please no.

All of your jovial carefree behavior vanishes into thin air as Bakugo takes the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your annular finger and you wince when he pushes it down with a brutish strength until the overly small ring finally sits at the base of your finger. 

“Mrs. Katsuki Bakugo.” you can practically hear a satisfied grin behind those words.

That's all it takes for the dam that's inside your eyes to burst into miserable pitiful tears. From behind you, Bakugo growls - all traces of relaxation now gone - replaced by anger as he violently tugs your arm behind, forcing your body to face him.  

“No. No fucking tears.” his tone is harsh, and he takes it upon himself to swipe his big thumbs against your cheeks, cleaning up the endless fountain of water that your eyes have become.

Your hands weakly attempt to push him away, never meeting success in putting distance between your bodies as he immediately clutches your wrists. 

“I…Bakugo, I don’t want to-”

His lips capture your wobbling ones into a fervent, boiling kiss. His palm is large enough to cover the back of your head, stopping you from pulling away from the kiss. You’re trapped under his powerful strength, as you always have. You’re so stupid for fooling yourself into something that was never the reality. 

He kisses you with all of his ravenous, destructive passion until you’re nothing more than a limp body, until all signs of pathetic rebellion have left your body but not your mind. Your throat dries when his burning lips move to suck little spots on the sensitive skin of your neck, too many sharp teeth involved.

Your whole body itching to squirm away from him but somehow you manage to stay as immobile as a statue. You can only cry your eyes out. You’re weak, you’re pathetic, you’re-

“You asked ‘bout my gift, right?” his voice booms in your ear and you yelp as Bakugo pushes you down to the floor, crawling on top of you like the dangerous predator he is. His calloused hands already reaching for your pajama pants.

“You can fucking give it to me in nine months.” 

[starmapz]

changing of the seasons || k. nanami

❦ kento nanami x gn!reader || college au

❦ oneshot

❝ nanami is a man of habit, so when he doesn't show up to class, it worries you. when he changes his style drastically, you're even more worried, and- wait, is his sweatshirt from the store you were raving about the other day? ❞

❦ content ; shy!nanami. fluff!! mutual pining.

❦ words ; 2k.

masterlist

Like clockwork, you enter the lecture hall for the third class of the day and take your seat towards the back. Just like every other day, Haibara shows up shortly afterwards and you expect Nanami just behind him, except that isn’t the case today.

“Hey,” Yu greets as he takes the seat that’s usually Kento’s.

“Hey, where’s Kento?” You inquire with a tilt of your head, concern flashing over your features.

Haibara sighs, shrugging. “Dunno. He wasn’t in our dorm this morning,” he grimaces, glancing around the lecture hall as though for some reason your friend may have sat elsewhere.

Before you can reply, the professor’s voice silences all chatter in the room and you’re left only being able to speculate Kento’s whereabouts. You’ve known Kento since you were ten and you’ve never known him to miss a class unless he was sick, but if he wasn’t in his dorm then you had a reason to be worried.

When the lecture ends, you pull out your phone and shoot him a text.

2:30 PM You || hey kento! is everything alright? yu and i are worried about you :(( 

Shoving your phone back into your pocket, you head to the library in hopes of getting some studying done. About an hour into your time in the library tucked away into the corner, your phone finally vibrates, relief washing over you at the sight of Kento’s contact popping up.

3:27 PM Nanamin! || Apologies for making you worry. I was taking care of something. Are you free right now?

You can’t help but to giggle at his overly formal texting style, shooting back a quick text.

3:28 PM You || meet you in the usual spot? :) 

3:30 PM Nanamin! || Be there in 10.

Just as you’re about to put your phone in your pocket, you’re surprised when it goes off again. And again. Which is entirely unlike Kento.

3:30 PM Nanamin! || :) 

3:31 PM Nanamin! || Sorry to double text.

You tilt your head at the sight beneath your thumbs. A smiley? Even more confusing still, three texts and he apologized? You blink at the sight before sending back a quick ‘see you soon, don’t worry kento!’ in an attempt to ease whatever seems to be causing Nanami’s strange behavior.

Bounding out to the field behind the university, you make your way to a large tree in the back, the bark smooth at the base from years of being leaned on by students. Names and initials are carved into most of the base of the trunk and the area is relatively secluded, which usually made it into a prime makeout spot for young couples, but your little group of friends had taken to the area as well. You always got the feeling Yu had chosen it in an attempt to help get Kento out of his shell given his usually aloof nature.

Your closest friend had grown marginally less awkward over the years, though he still seemed to hesitate and crawl back into his comfort zone when the chance presented itself. On occasion, you’d seen the brief moments where he would grow more confident and you knew he had it in him, but you always found it sweet just how shy he seemed to get at times, keeping himself close to you and Haibara.

As the blonde in question comes into sight a short distance away, his bag slung over his shoulder and one hand shoved in his pocket, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of him. His hair is no longer tucked behind his ear, now trimmed short with an undercut and neatly combed, and his usual band tee and jeans have been replaced with a pair of slacks and a plain sweatshirt.

Your jaw practically drops at the sight. Even his ear piercings have been removed, the style completely contradicting how he had looked just yesterday. The only remnant of what you had always known as Nanami is some chipped black nail polish.

“Kento!” You greet him, unable to hide your surprise at his new look. While you may be shocked, you can’t deny that it’s a good look on him. Nanami has always been good-looking, but somehow his new look makes him look older, in a good way. More mature. It brings out the more striking and sharp portions of his features.

“Sorry I missed class,” he apologizes casually, sitting down on the grass across from you.

“Your hair,” you blurt out, unable to stop the way you’re practically ogling him.

The way Nanami looks at you, a faint dusting of red on his cheeks has you realizing he’s waiting for you to continue.

“Sorry, I’m just surprised. Your hair and…” your eyes travel the length of his body. “The outfit, it’s such a big difference.”

“Is it a bad difference?” He asks with a look of mild concern.

“No, no!” You shake your head quickly, shuffling towards him slightly. “No, it suits you. A lot, actually.”

His cheeks grow much redder now and a small smile graces his lips. “Thank you.”

“What’s with the sudden change?” You tilt your head curiously, unable to help the way you’re practically examining him under a microscope with your intense gaze.

He hesitates for a moment, and it’s then that your shy friend seems to come back for a moment. While he does have a more confident air to him, it’s somehow comforting to know it’s still the same Kento sitting before you.

“No particular reason. I just felt I was ready for a change,” he shrugs, avoiding your scrutinization as he stares at a particularly interesting blade of grass.

“Well I’m glad not everything has changed,” you giggle with a grin as your fingers graze his. He swallows hard as he stares at the polish on his nails that matches your own. In truth, he hadn’t had the heart to remove the polish you’d applied, no matter how chipped it was.

When you change the subject to tell him about the class he missed, launching into conversation, Nanami lets out a breath and leans back on his hands. Everything between the two of you has always been easy, an unspoken understanding remaining a constant throughout your years of friendship. He’s the one person you feel as though you can truly be yourself around.

As the afternoon sun crosses the sky and begins to set, you stretch your arms above your head, casting another glance at Kento. The warm glow of sunlight colors his gray sweatshirt in pretty yellows and oranges and you can’t help the way you smile at him. You’re still getting used to the look on him, but he could pull off any look, he’s just that kind of person.

“So, where did you go shopping?” You ask curiously, leaning forward subconsciously to give him your full attention as he speaks.

“That store just down the street from the ramen place you love, the one Gojo went to,” he replies evenly, running a hand through his neat hair. It’s almost unfair just how good he looks.

You contemplate what store he means as you stare up at the clouds floating aimlessly above you. “Oh! Near Ramenya?”

“That’s the one,” he agrees with a small smile.

The store he’s speaking of has been popular since it opened, though ever since Gojo Satoru made a point of going there, it got particularly popular within your college. Leave it to Gojo to start the latest trend.

You recall talking about the store’s style with Yu a couple of weeks ago, mentioning how you absolutely adored their more casual outfits like slacks and a sweatshirt and how attractive you thought it was.

Wait.

Wait.

Slacks and a sweatshirt.

The gears turn in your head as you stare at Nanami.

Slacks and a sweatshirt.

“Ken…?” You ask uncertainly, not wanting to accuse him of anything if you were wrong, but as color drains from his face, you get the feeling you might just be spot-on.

“Yes?”

You chew on your lower lip. If you blinked, you might have missed the way his eyes flicker to your lips to watch the action. Your heart hammers in your chest as you barely manage to whisper, “you didn’t do this for me, right?”

He swallows hard, like a deer in the headlights, caught.

The silence that follows is heavy, rife with tension as you wait for his voice to cut through the silence. In spite of the active cicadas in the nearby trees and the crackling of the leaves overhead beginning to turn golden, the only sound that seems to get through to you is your own heart racing, blood pumping in your ears.

“I-” He stammers, straightening as he faces you. His shoulders tense, and you can’t do anything but watch as emotions swirl within his irises one after another. When finally he seems to come to a conclusion about what he’s feeling and what to do, there’s a sheen of sweat across his brow and a tremble in his hands. He lets out a breath, unable to meet your gaze as he finds his words. “I’ve been meaning to change things up for a while,” he begins, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “I don’t think my old look suits who I am any longer.”

You nod, listening intently although you let Nanami continue.

“However,” he continues, taking a breath. “I did overhear you speaking with Haibara not too long ago about the store’s style.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears acting as the physical manifestation of your own nerves. “Kento…” you simper, tilting your head at him. You can’t help the way your lips curl into a giddy smile, unable to hold back a series of shy and happy giggles.

Your best friend’s cheeks redden harshly, hearing only your laughs as he refuses to look up at you. Embarrassment floods him as he assumes the worst, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow.

You cup his cheek, the harsh contrast of your warm palm replacing the cool autumn air and finally pulling his attention to you.

Yet what he sees isn’t someone laughing at him, it’s someone whose entire being is glowing with happiness. He blinks, shoulders relaxing and scowl dissipating as he finds himself leaning into your touch.

“Ken, you didn’t have to do all of this to impress me,” you speak so softly to him that even the aloof Nanami Kento’s lips twitch upwards. “I like you. I have for a long time, I just didn’t realize you…” You shake your head, giggling again as your nerves bubble up.

Kento is in a strange place in his life as he tries to figure out who he is, but he does know he wants to be with you, and he wants to treat you right.

“I like you too…” he trails off, finally finding his confidence as he admires your eyes, shining with the brilliance of someone who’s just made a confession. “May I take you out?” He asks, smiling fully as his hand comes up to rest over yours, his thumb brushing your knuckles tenderly.

“I’d love that,” you grin, leaping forward on your knees to tackle Nanami in a tight embrace. He stiffens first, before he finds that he’s in what might be the most tender and adoring embrace he’s ever found himself in. It only takes a moment before he rests his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around you.

Your heart beats in tandem with his, and Nanami finds himself melting into you, several years’ worth of unspoken emotions settling finally as you nestle into his arms, a content hum leaving your lips. You may think him a fool (you don’t) for going to such lengths to impress you, but Kento feels more at ease with himself, his style, and with you than he ever has before. Feeling you smile against his shoulder, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

masterlist

❦ a/n ; this was meant to be a drabble i'm not really sure what happened tbh. likes, reblogs & comments super appreciated as always ♡

icymi, this week's kinktober fic will probably be late as my cat had surgery and i've lost a bit of my motivation but i promise the last two kinktober fics are still coming! thank you all for your support ♡

[avalonelf]

Okay I never post but seeing all the misinterpretations of Ragatha and Gangle in the new The Amazing Digital Circus ep made me feel the need to at least put my opinion out there, for whatever it’s worth. Everyone asks for morally grey characters but when given them, they are heavily misjudged and mischaracterised.

So this scene:

Also! Please take into consideration that Ragatha is literally drugged up here. She’s in an altered mental state and would never normally say these things. She probably doesn’t even realise the things she’s saying.

So, notice how Ragatha says ‘Happy mask’ and not ‘Comedy Mask’?.

She is referring to the new mask that Gangle has never had on around them before (which I may also argue altered her mental state too but that’s another can of worms), and also the fact that it’s a MASK. She didn’t say “you’re annoying when you’re happy.” And people interpreting it that way are the same ones saying that Ragatha is too much of a people pleaser and needs to be more honest, which yeah she does! She’s more saying “Not to offend, but right now, you are being quite overbearing and demanding” and considering Ragatha is all loopy and out of it, I’m sure it was just how she was feeling in that moment.

Ragatha is not this secretly evil or nasty person who hates everyone, and Gangle saying to Pomni:

Was not saying that Ragatha is ‘hiding and true feelings and actually doesn’t like me’, it’s more once again Gangle worrying that’s what Ragatha may actually think due to how much of a people pleaser she is and how with this mindset, makes her dishonest. Which yeah! Being a people pleaser is not always a good thing, it can cause this exact situation! This doesn’t mean Ragatha is ‘hiding her true evil feelings’, more so she just not honest when she should be. You can be a critic to someone without being mean, and hopefully Ragatha can learn that.

Once again, what Ragatha said to Gangle is not a nice thing to say to anyone at all, but she is not thinking straight at all and Gangle is literally her boss essentially, or at least supervisor (in this ‘adventure’ setting). Anyone who has worked in retail/fast food or any minimum wage job understands that no matter how much you get along (or don’t) with your supervisor, there’s going to be points where they get on your nerves. Gangle herself is not happy in this episode, she has another mask on and is working a job she doesn’t even want to do! Here is a plain example of this:

Gangle doesn’t even want to do this job, she wants to be a comic artist but she’s been made to believe that it’s just an impossible dream.

I also feel this episode is heavily a direct metaphor on how the capitalist society and how a minimum wage job can just destroy a persons soul and motivation. Coming from someone who has worked this sort of job, your own personal relationships can be negatively affected and even ruined due to work pressure. Whether it’s managers getting in your business or whatnot, work can make people grouchy and harsh in fear of losing their jobs or being criticised or people just being eager to please and get a raise or just words of affirmation from higher ups. Like Jax for example, we don’t know what Gangle did to make him so afraid and make him a shell of his usual self, but once again is showing how jobs such as this can change and affect people deeply.

And also! All you people saying Jax is finally getting a taste of his own medicine and what he deserved, we don’t know what that employee training video was and why Jax reacted the way he did. So be careful with that!

Gangle was not happy this episode, and the ending solidified that for me. She wasn’t taking her mask off and finally feeling free and happy, to me it felt like she was in a manic sort of state and was being so careless that she unintentionally fell into oncoming traffic. As soon as she got out of work and took that work based mask off. I don’t think it was a reflection of her finally taking off her mask and being free, it had very unsettling undertones. Not to mention Cain straight up grading her ‘performance’ including what she did AFTER she clocked out which was quite literally being hit by a truck. Do you see what I’m getting at here? It’s the exact similar situation I have seen where my own supervisors were particularly demanding or grouchy on a day where I wasn’t feeling it, and then they themself regret it or end up getting in some sort of trouble with a higher up when they were just trying to essentially do their job! Also Ragatha was straight up drugged, without consent, due to the materials she was forced to work with!

But yes, I think people are empathising too heavily towards Gangle in thinking how they often have masks up and how much it would hurt if their friends acted this way or if they HAVE in fact acted this way towards you, but I don’t think this is the case here.

I ramble a lot but I hope this got some of my thoughts and interpretations across??

I loved this episode and it’s left me asking so many questions that I’m so curious about and I’m so excited for what future episodes bring!

[midnightbluebells03]

you should totally do reader x abby where she accidentally mentions marrying reader when using her strap on her.

SPUR OF THE MOMENT

CW - SMUT minors dni!, strap on (R! Receiving), reader is called good girl, talks of marriage (obvs), hair pulling, strap is called a dick once

Readers appearance isn't described (atleast I don't think it is), no use of y/n

About 800 wc

No outbreak

Send me request so I can try and get out my writing funk pls and thx

You can't even remember how long it's been since you two started. Abby came home a couple of hours ago, but since then, you've barely separated. What started as 'innocent' kisses while you made dinner had turned into this. Your face shoved into the softness of Abby's pillow, your legs starting to tremble, and hickies sprawled across your skin. As your girlfriend was positioned behind you with one hand pressed onto your lower back, her strap moving relentlessly in and out of your dripping hole. Dirty blonde hair sticking to her forehead as her sweat pools on her defined muscles. She always said fucking you was her favourite workout. And she meant it.

Abby's hips move at a steady pace, just enough to turn you into a mess but not enough to finish you off. It's purposeful, like all her moments. She just wanted to look at you a little longer, the way your back arched, and you desperately tried to back into her. Stopped by her grasp so all you could do was take what she gave you.

Her free hand comes to grip your hair, giving it a light tug and pulling your head back. Forcing a loud moan that had been sitting in your throat out as her lips ghosted against the shell of your ear. "Such a good fucking girl for me hmm?" Abby coos only getting a whimper from you in response, her grip tightens as she starts to fuck into you deeper, faster. Hitting just the right spot while you moan so loud you're worried about the neighbours hearing.

But as soon she she starts talking you forget all about it.

"I'm gonna make you my wife one day." it's more like she's talking to herself, mumbling in that deep voice she gets when she's claiming you. When her brain goes blank and all she can focus on is the sounds you make. The noise of your wet pussy as her strap continues to make you see stars. If she was any further away you might not have caught it. But the idea alone makes your face heat up and a whine escape your lips. "So fucking perfect for me, need you to be mine". You hadn't really talked about marriage, in all honesty you were afraid Abby wasn't into the concept at all. But her babbling in your ear is definitely clearing it up. "Just mine forever".

That's what sends you over the edge. "Abby!" You clentch hard around the strap, your orgasm rushing over you as Abby keeps talking you through it.

"There you go" she drops your hair as her hands move to rest on both sides of your waist. Pulling you backwards into her as you try but fail to muffle yourself with the pillow below. "Good girl, good fucking girl cum all over my dick".

Her movements slow once you finish, you let out a soft whimper as she pulls out. Leaving you clenching around nothing before turning onto your back. Your forearm comes over your eyes as you listen to Abby move around the room. The sounds of her cleaning and putting away the strap before she heads to your onsuite to grab a towel with warm water are what you've become accustomed to. So when a strong hand taps your leg, you don't even have to look. Just spread them slowly as Abby cleans you up. Peppering soft kisses along your inner thighs as she whispers softly.

"You did so good baby" once she's finished she throws the towel into the bathroom sink, deciding to deal with it later. "Just perfect"

Abby slumps down beside you, breathing heavily still while staring up at the ceiling. Slowly your brain catches up with what she said, you sit up quickly startling her slightly.

"What?" She asks confused, her hand now resting on your lower back. Rubbing small circles with her thumb.

You blink hard, looking down at her. Taking in everything, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. The way her hair is now wavy from being taken out the braid you had ruined. The way she looks at you with such a soft eyes. It makes you melt.

"You wanna marry me?" You ask softly, almost afraid to say it in case she didn't really mean it.

Abby's face turns red. She doesn't break the eye contact between you two as she nods timidly. "Oh um...yeah yeah I do" clearly your shocked expression was making her nervous because she gets this worried look on her face. Eyebrows knitted slightly. "Do you-"

"Abs" you say with a sweet tone. Watching has her expression softens before repositioning yourself to lay on her chest "Mrs Anderson, the Andersons"

"The Andersons" she repeats, pulling you closer and placing a kiss to your head.

[ilium-ilia]

calyptra thalictri

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | "single mom" au | masterlist

slip

tw: stalking, abortion mention, anxiety, implied misogyny

In the beginning, Simon had his doubts about choosing you to be the mother of his child. 

He needed someone soft spoken—a sweet damozel without the connections of a lover, without something to hold her back. When he first laid eyes on you, he could see the prints in your skin. The divots left behind from the feet that have walked all over you, tread marks scarring your epidermis without any guarantee of fading. He watched those prints manifest before his very eyes in the pub he first saw you in as you laughed at your friend’s jokes, too gauche to share how uncomfortable it truly made you. 

Following you home was an easy feat when your friends were too inebriated to care about your well being. To give you a ride, or accompany you to the tenebrous corner. You were timid like a newborn fawn unsteady on their feet—too anxious to look over your shoulder at the large brute who had been tailing you for the last block and a half. There is no self preservation instinct. You let both friends and life alike drag you where they wish. 

Everything else was easy after that. Making a copy of your key, spiking the tea you always drink at night before bed, breeding you like the good bitch you are—but there was still doubt. Could something as pathetic as you ever make it as far as he needs you to? Would you suddenly grow skittish and flee the moment you knew you were with child? Could you ever be cruel enough to purge the foetus before he was finished with you? 

All his qualms vanish the moment he catches you in the grocery market. 

It’s truly by accident. A meeting planned by fate. He rounds the corner into the aisle of packaged bread and he sees you, trolley half full, teeth biting into your knuckles. Freezing, Simon’s eyes widen as he soaks you in—even the prospect of choosing between brands of bread troubles you as you inspect the shelves with narrowed eyes. Lips parted, free hand resting on your growing stomach, his mind reels. 

The sonogram in his wallet begins to burn a hole through his pocket. Its warmth is hardly matched by the blazing fury of the sun itself, but he revels in the sting. He gets to witness without a shred of doubt that he’s made the right choice. Look at you—pathetic, alone, in need of someone to take care of you. Scared. Worried. Struggling to hold back the frustration that boils just beneath your skin. In need of someone. 

In need of him. 

Simon tails you for a little while longer through the store, clandestine as he browses various canned goods and sacks of rice. His act isn’t needed, it seems, as you are utterly oblivious to the savior lurking in your shadow. Like a scientist watches a specimen squirming on an examination board, grotesque limbs pinned by unkind needles, he witnesses with avaricious delight as you stumble upon the baby food section. Small jars of puree carrots, peas, and bananas look up at you from the shelves with curling grins. Even from a distance he can see the way your throat bobs. How you attempt to be brave and reach for a jar only to pull back at the last second, unable to stand the heat. 

If only you knew how soon he would be there to swoop in and kiss the aches. To smother everything that ails you—to save you from this strife. 

These last few weeks have left his skin itching. Scarabs nettle beneath his flesh, scurrying on spindly legs, whispering with gnarly teeth into the shell of his ear telling him to take, take, take. Take you—wrap you up in the blankets you hide yourself in while you sleep and bring you home so that he can finally have the life he’s coveted since he’s seen the way bullets tear through bone. He often finds himself standing at the foot of your bed, watching you. Hands wandering to your stomach to feel, to press, to simper. He’s witnessed you swell—the child grow—his dreams manifest before his very eyes. 

He can’t wait—he can only hold this accismus for so long. 

Your gaze adverts from the baby food and you return your trembling hands to the trolley before continuing down the aisle. More often than not, your heart is like a hummingbird these days. Wings flapping too fast, beak darting, begging for sustenance, begging for anything that might free you from the bars keeping you caged; keeping you isolated. 

You’ve gotten good at pretending as if you meant for this to happen. This wretched state of your body—of this fatigue, of your swollen abdomen, of your dither. Though no one could look at you and realize that you don’t know the father of this creature growing inside of you, the gaze of the clerk has you believing otherwise. His eyes linger on your stomach for far too long as if he ponders how much red he could see if he cut you open, or the taste of ichor when licked off of his own fingers. 

He gives you a courteous smile as you pay for your groceries, then leave. Automatic sliding doors squeak as you push your trolley outside into the dying carotene puff of the setting sun, and you waste no time trudging along to your car. Its fragile, beaten exterior greets you flippantly with a simple beep as you unlock the boot and begin to pile everything inside. Milk, bread, eggs, apples, avocados—all things your doctor told you would be good for the baby’s development. 

Then, something rips. 

One of the bags tears open on the corner of the trolley, sending items tumbling free from their confines and onto the cracked asphalt at your feet. Doxylamine clatters to the ground and stares up at you. It grins. It’s goading you into doing the thing that seems to be increasingly difficult these days—bending. Crouching. Stooping low enough to grab something all while carrying the weight of some sick sin. 

Just as you go to reach for the box, a large hand swoops in and eats it. 

Blinking, you watch as the box slowly rises from the ground before it’s being held out for you to take. Scarred knuckles scream at you as they slice along pale skin, but your eyes follow the lines like words of a book—a story you’re waiting to peel back and uncover. 

“Doxylamine is alright, but I usually go with Diphenhydramine.” 

The voice that speaks to you is thick. Viscous like syrup—like cruor. Your gaze follows the invisible line that traces his arm, paying attention to the niello ink that permeates the skin just around his wrist as it peeks out from beneath the sleeve of his jumper. His palm is fat. Wide enough to smother a football with long digits that are so meaty they could pop it with a single hand. Then, there’s his height. This stranger towers over most, broad shoulders competing against even the most spacious of doorways, and the hood on his head coupled with the work boots on his feet give him an extra inch. 

Then, there’s his eyes. Inky. Pitch dark like the shadows the monsters in your closet used to hide in when you were a child. It’s impossible to see through him—to poke and prod your way into his mind. Something stops you just short of diving into the depths; a wall you can’t quite push through. 

Shaking your head, you knock your thoughts free from your mind. “What?” 

“Diphenhydramine is a better antihistamine. For allergies. Though, it makes you tired,” the man says bluntly. Once more, he shakes the box in his hand, and you bring yourself to look at it. 

“Oh.” You take it into your grasp, fingers not even coming close to brushing against his. “I don’t take it for allergies. It’s for… morning sickness, technically.” 

Your hand spreads over your stomach, almost lovingly. Almost as if this were planned—as if this is what you want. You feel this stranger’s gaze wander, just like everyone else’s always does. You’re a spectacle. Woman contorted into a show for all to witness. 

He hums in response to your unwarranted explanation before turning his attention to your trolley. Wordlessly, he begins to unload the basket. Bags slipping into his arms, you watch as he yanks them free and gently places them in the back of your car, piled neatly next to the few you had managed to load before making a mess of things. 

“Oh—uhm—you don’t- you don’t have to do that,” you stutter. 

“I know.” 

Stoic. Stale. No room for argument. Anxious fingers tap against the box of drugs as you watch him move your groceries for you. He’s not old, but the scars on his face age him. They settle into the lines of his face, deepening them until his skin is permanently creased. There’s a bump on his nose that you don’t think was there when he was born, and a rosy scar to accompany the ridge. His lips are tight. Thin, stony—as if he’s holding back something. 

A secret. A thought. 

“Well, thank you…?” Your tone curls. Your grace turns into a question, and you’re not even sure what you’re asking until he answers. 

“Simon.” 

Strong. Simple. Fitting, for a man like him. 

“Thank you, Simon.” 

He pauses when you speak his name—back turned to you, hands full of bags, he loads the last few into the boot before sneaking a piece of paper out of one of them. You open your mouth to protest until you notice it’s only your receipt. 

“It’s not right, havin’ you out here like this by yourself,” he tells you. 

Disbelief settles deep in your bones as you scoff. “Excuse me?” 

Not looking at you, Simon fishes a pen from his deep pockets and begins scribbling something on your receipt. “A woman in your condition shouldn’t be doing such heavy liftin’ on her own. You need someone to take care of you.” 

“What makes you think I need help?” you ask, brows raised. 

The pen clicks. It’s sharp. A shot ringing throughout the air. Simon’s eyes settle on you, and the weight constricts around your chest. They’re… eerie. Adust, like the lowering countryside right before a storm hits to wipe the earth clean. 

“You walk like you’re guilty. You’ve got some weight dragging you down, and I don’t think it’s the baby in your tummy doin’ that, love. When you look at people, you’re already apologizing. Can read it all over that sweet face of yours. Besides, there’s no ring on that finger. Means the dad isn't all that serious ‘bout you.” He holds the folded receipt out for you to take, but all you can do is stare at it with blank eyes. “Or maybe you don’t even know who the daddy is at all.” 

His impudence is jarring. Shame gnaws through your intestines straight into your womb where it grows. He’s read you to filth. Swallowing, you look at him, throat tightening. 

“Have we met before?” Your question flows from your mouth like blood from a wound—already apologetic for the damage. “You just… seem familiar.” 

All Simon does is stare. 

“I think I’d remember meetin’ someone like you.” 

He’s scribbled your receipt with his number, and before leaving he tells you to call him if you need anything. Stilted as ever, you stiffly thank him before shoving it into your pocket and climbing into your car, silently telling yourself that you’d never reach out to him—that you’d never drag anyone else into this… situation. Least of all someone like him, a stranger who can read you better than you can yourself; better than your own friends can. 

When you arrive home, it takes you much too long to load all your groceries into your flat. The stairs leave you huffing, and by the end of it, your knees clatter together so viciously you fear you may collapse. Instead, you endure. Unpacking items, shoving them into the fridge, the pantry, into cupboards—you think about how soon your space will be invaded. High chairs and puree food, bibs and swaddle blankets, toys to trip on. Another mouth to feed. 

Or not.

As you place the milk in the fridge, you think about how you could put the child up for adoption. Push it out and send it off into the world for you to never lay eyes on it again. You don’t have the stomach to terminate it, but you can stomach this. Sending them off to live with real parents. Someone better. 

Your thoughts freeze the moment your hand wraps around a box of toothpaste. 

Brows furrowing, you look through the contents of your final bag to find items you don’t remember buying. Aftershave. Protein mix. Soap. 

Sighing, you tilt your head back to look at the ceiling as your palms rub at your achy, swollen eyes. Simon’s phone number whispers to you from your back pocket, and you grit your teeth as you slip it free from your jeans. This grocery mix up feels like a seed—carefully planted and watered. 

Now, it’s germinating.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Santa

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You get an unexpected gift from your boss.

Character: Pete Brenner

Day Fourteen of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - "um, I don't think this gift is meant for me" 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“You got this for me?” Pete asks as he pushes his hair back. He seems surprised by the simple present. It’s not much. All you could spare from your budget.  

Working at a startup doesn’t offer much more than what pays the bills, sometimes less, and with the holiday season, funds are even sparser. You shrug and clasp your hands behind your back. You were nervous enough to give it to him. Pete can be nice, but he can also be an utter nightmare. 

“Sure, uh, it’s nothing big,” you assure him. 

He takes the small gift bag and looks inside. He rustles the tissue paper with his fingers and leans back as he tugs the stuffing free. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his forearms tensing as he pokes inside. He pulls out monogram cufflinks. They weren’t very expensive but the Etsy seller handmade them. 

“Wow, these are... nice,” he says. 

“I wasn’t sure... you might need them soon, right?” 

“Sure will,” his eyes sparkle at the golden cufflinks. “We’re gonna hit soon, sweetheart.” 

He drops them back in the bag and sets it down. You lean back on your heel. He doesn’t call you ‘sweetheart’, no, only the women he tries to sell too. He’s snagged a few to keep the startup going but he’s chased just as many away. 

“Just remembered, I got a thing,” he checks his watch. 

“Oh?” You shy away as he unrolls his sleeves and buttons them. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before closing time,” he assures you. 

And when’s that? Each day ends later and later. 

“Okay,” you utter. 

“Hold my calls,” he shrugs into his jacket and shoves his phone in his pocket. 

“Yes, sir,” you turn and retreat out of his office. 

You sidle behind your desk and sit. There’s not many calls you need to field as it is. You don’t know if he’s optimistic, deluded, or something more concerning. His ‘vision’ seems more and more like a shell. Or as your friend Evie called it, ‘a front’. 

“Good girl,” he praises with a wink as he follows you out.  

He snatches his coat off the rack by the door and stomps out without another word. You’re relieved at the solace. You like those times when you can just piddle around. Trying to look busy when there’s nothing to do is surprisingly hard work. 

You lean your head in your hand as you scroll through your phone. Your family chat is blowing up and you continue to flick away the notifications. You’ve given up trying to mediate the ongoing argument about the Secret Santa. It never works out. 

You glance up now and again at the computer. There’s a few emails, most phishing, and the phone remains dormant. You feel more and more like a placeholder; or a dupe. You blame Evie for making you so paranoid. 

The windows dim with the evening hue and you swivel in your chair impatiently. You twiddle your fingers and stare at the minutes ticking by in the corner of the monitor. You lurch back as the door opens in a bluster and Pete stomps in with a paper crinkle. 

You look over at him, taking a moment to flip back into social mode. 

“Oh, hey, everything okay?” You ask. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he turns his back to you and sets something by his feet before he strips out of his coat. He hangs it over yours and bends to pick up the item you can’t see. “You know, I couldn’t just... you went to all that trouble.” He spins and struts towards you, lifting the white paper bag with a wiggle, “Merry Christmas.” 

“Oh, uh, Mr. Brenner, you didn’t-- I didn’t expect you to--” 

“Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an idiot sometimes.” He holds the bag out over your desk. “Kinda a jackass too.” 

“Right, um, really it’s--” he drops the bag on the desk and you swallow. “Thanks, uh, that’s so... sweet.” 

You stand slowly and reluctantly take the bag. You feel awkward and a bit guilty. You didn’t give him a gift to get one. You just did it because it felt expected. 

“Go on,” he stays where his is, one hip jutted out as he grips it, “I think you’ll like it.” 

You sniff and push the top of the bag open with your fingers. There’s a box inside. You reach through and lift out the white cardboard adorned with a pink ribbon. You set it down and carefully untie the bow, intensely aware of his gaze. 

You pull the lid off and reveal the neatly folded tissue paper. You pause and glance up at Pete. He smirks as he watches you. Something about his expression makes you nervous. 

You push apart the tissue and reveal the bright red sheer fabric trimmed in white fur. Your lashes flutter and you squeak. You giggle and look up at Pete as you try to line up lid with the box and cover the lingerie. 

“Uh, sir, I don't think this gift is meant for me. It must be for your wife--” 

“It’s for you,” he insists. “Wife’s gone. Ex, soon enough.” 

“Oh, I didn’t-- I’m sorry, sir. That’s awful.” 

“Yeah, pretty down about it,” his lip thin and he reaches to brush the stubble around his chin. “So why don’t you help cheer me up.” 

He winks again and it crawls over you like a shiver. He can’t be serious. You laugh again but his intent gaze doesn’t falter. 

“Sir, I can’t-- that’s...” you can barely think or breathe. He can’t be serious. 

“Come on, let’s have some holiday fun,” he purrs and leans forward to put his hands on your desk. 

“Uh, oh, that’s... sorry, sir, but I’m not... I’m sorry to hear about your wife but I can’t... do that.” 

“You can’t?” He tilts his head and pokes his tongue into his cheek. “You know, I can’t return that.” 

“Um, I’m sorry,” you try to slide the box across the desk and he catches it, his large hands covering yours. 

“Just put it on for me, please,” he squeezes, “I just wanna look. I’ve been so lonely.” 

“No, sir, that’s not--” your heart pounds behind your ears. You can’t believe this is happening. “That’s not appropriate. I... I gotta get going--” 

He doesn’t let you go. Even as you try to tug away. His grip is unbreakable. You whimper and stare up at him helplessly. 

“I know you got no one to go home to, sweetheart,” his voice deepens, “but I’ll give you a choice, huh? You can go put that on or you can get naked. Up to you.” 

“Sir,” you try to yank free again. “Stop--” 

He hooks his hands around your wrists and wrenches you down. Your stomach crushes the box beneath it as he releases one of your arms and grabs the back of your neck. He holds you, bent over the desk, as your toes slide on the floor. 

He steps closer as he balls your hair in his hand and forces your head up. He pushes your face into his pants, wiggling his hips as he rubs his rigid bulge against you. You whimper and grab at his grasp helplessly. 

“I got another gift for you right here,” he growls. “So be a good girl and I’ll let you unwrap it.” He twitches and groans as the roots of your hair burn. “What’s it going to be, hm? You gonna sit on Santa’s lap or is he gonna have to bend you over his knee?” 

You sniffle and press against his stomach, “please sir, I’ll be—Ow! I'll do it,” you murmur, “please, you’re hurting me.” 

“That’s it, you better be nice, baby,” he lets you go and stretches his hand across the front of his pants. “You don’t wanna get on my naughty list.” 

You recoil and slide back onto your feet. You rub your head as your scalp ripples hotly. He bites his lips as he eyes you up and down. 

“Go on, get yourself all wrapped up for Santa,” he grits. 

You flinch and stare at him, begging with your eyes. Your eyes flit to the door and back to him. You have no choice. You shakily take the box and turn away. 

He shifts as you come around the desk and as you pass him, he taps your ass. You trip but keep going. You scurry into the tiny bathroom on the other side of the office and hide behind the door. 

You toss the box onto the small counter and stare at your frightened reflection. You can’t believe this. Why?  

You sway on your legs and wring your hand. What do you do? 

“Sweetheart, don’t keep Santa waiting,” he taunts from outside. You can hear the friction of his hand on the door. 

You squeak and grip your head as your panic swells. No, no, no. You cringe and brace yourself. You’re going to do this. Because you’re weak. Because you’re scared. 

You undress, piece by piece. You open the box again and clumsily unfold the body suit. You shimmy into the sheer fabric and hook the straps over your shoulders. You step back to see yourself in the mirror. You can’t! 

You spin away with the vision of your reflection seared into your head. The fabric is so sheer, you can see your nipples, and even the slit of your cunt. You hug yourself as your eyes wet with horrified tears. 

“Come out and play, baby girl,” Pete wiggles the handle from the other side. 

“Please,” you plead through the door. “I can’t--” 

The handle jerks up then down, “get the fuck out here!”  

His voice cuts through and makes you wince. Your lip trembles as you reach to flip the lock up. Your body moves from fear. He pushes the door open and you step back. 

“Mm, baby, come out here,” he reaches for you and tugs your wrist away from your chest. He takes both your hands and unbends your arms as he draws you out into the flourescent lights. “Damn, who knew you were hiding all that? Keeping that all to yourself.” 

“Please, I... I’m scared.” 

“I know, baby, that’s why I’m so hard,” he snickers and yanks on so you fall against him. He snakes his arm around you and cups your ass in his hand. “Why didn’t you give me this for Christmas, huh?” 

“Sir...” 

“Mmm,” he leans in and inhales your scent as his nose tickles your temples. “Don’t worry, Santa’s gonna give you everything,” he grinds his pelvis into you, “a nice fucking yule log to fill you up.” 

[yanderenightmare]

JJK ! IMAGINE

Okkotsu Yuta x darling

TW: yandere

He’s silent for the most part – pensive and gentle with you – barely touching you aside from mellow strokes lacking a lasting feel and featherlight kisses that only barely leave your skin wet. 

Everything seems somewhat virginal. Awkward. At a distance…

But you know he watches you when you sleep – and it gives you goosebumps every night. 

He’ll sit in the chair by the window instead of lying next to you, his dour gaze lingering on you and your shape draped in the thin duvet. He’ll listen to your soft snores, and watch you dream – thinking about what he wouldn’t do to keep you like that, safe and sound and perfect – coming up short. 

There’s so much ugliness in the world… he needs to keep you from it.

“Yuta…” You croaked groggily, waking up and squinting at him where he still sat in the dim moonlight. “You’re freakin’ me out…” Twisting in the sheets, you pull them aside to free space on the bed before yawning. “Come to bed already.” 

He sits for another moment and you think he’s gonna stay there like every other night, keeping guard or whatever it is that he’s doing – but then he stands. Taking your invitation silently, lying down on his side of the bed, making the mattress sink – and it’s only then that you regret it, feeling your heart flare with dread, reminded of how he’s a psycho who’s had you trapped in his house for months without telling you why. 

You lie awake in wait of his touch – but it never comes. 

Snores come first.

You roll over again, looking at him – disheveled strands of dark hair splayed on the pillow, tired circles beneath heavy eyes – his face serious even in his sleep. It was strange… he didn’t look like a man capable of hurting anyone. But though he’s never hurt you, aside from keeping you here against your will, you know he’s very capable of violence. You’ve seen the bruises he dregs home, but more than that, you’ve seen the blood drenching his white clothes when he comes home bruise-free.

He doesn’t sit in the chair at all the night after. He comes straight to bed alongside you. And you suppose him lying there doesn’t make much difference for you so long he keeps his hands to himself – which he does until you fall asleep.

It’s sometime later in the night when you awake to the feeling of him brushing cold fingers over the exposed skin of your shoulder, down your upper arm, and further upon your hip.

Your breaths stick in your lungs as he shuffles closer, soon pressed flush against your back – his lips at the shell of your ear. 

He wraps his arm around your midriff and presses himself harder into you, and it’s only then that you realize he’s crying. Stirring against you in suppressed sobs as he buries his face into your hair.

You cringe. Listening to him sniffle as he holds your body snug. Opening your mouth and closing it again, you suck your lip in hesitation before calling his name. “Yuta?”

“I’m sorry for waking you-” He apologizes – and you wonder if you should just stay quiet, maybe he’d settle down and return to his side of the bed soon. But it seemed a little unlikely.

“Why are you crying?” You ask instead. 

“I’m scared…” He says, placing his forehead against the nape of your neck, both arms locked over your stomach and tugging you close for comfort.

You tense at his warmth – never having been so close to him before. Swallowing thickly. “Scared of what?”

His breath shivers against your back where he has his head bowed as his fingers dig into your sides enough to make you release a tiny whimper. “Scared that I won’t be able to protect you.”

You shiver a bit now, scared to move. You’re voice weak. “Protect me from what?”

He lifts his head and places a kiss on your shoulder. Nuzzling against the grove of your neck. “You shouldn’t worry about it.” He dismisses, gently, in a whisper, in that lilt he so often uses with you as though he fears anything louder would rattle you. “It’s my burden.” 

He shifts and scoots himself perfectly behind you, holding you snugly in strong arms.

“Sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

[sugarbbgrl]

the one with a camera MDNI

warning(s): dubcon (?), spanking, voyeurism, pet names, praise, degradation, light choking, light hair pulling, dumbification and dacryfilia if you squint

john may not but that much older than the others is 141, but he’d never been as tech savvy. he could tell you day and night how to unload and take apart an m16, but as soon as you ask him to restart the wi-fi router, he’s at a complete loss.

he went to johnny for help, knowing his finest demolition expert might have a clue about installing security cameras. john had been worried about you when he’s away on missions, he couldn’t have his pretty girl unsafe any longer.

thankfully, johnny agreed so once they were finally able to have a short leave, he told john he’d help him.

“i really just don’t understand why we need these, john, i’ve been perfectly fine without them.” you commented, standing behind the two men screwing in one of the cameras.

“darling, would you just let your old man’s mind rest easy at night? i know you’re a capable woman, but there are others more capable of breaking and entering.” john turned to look at you with a soft expression, hoping you’d finally get the hint that he needs this.

you finally caved, allowing the two to continue their mission while you prepared dinner for you and your fiancé.

by the end of it, there had been quite a few cameras in and outside of the house. every corner secured, other than the bathroom per your request for some privacy.

days go by when you eventually come to relax under the watchful atmosphere, almost completely ignoring them. daily tasks get easier without you having to watch over your shoulder. you’re thankful for them, to be quite frank. knowing that you can blow a kiss or two at them while your wonderful fiancé watches.

the night before john was set to go back out into the field, things had gotten more than heated between the two of you. you’d decided to out in his favorite lingerie set for him: a sheer, light blue body suit with a pair of white thigh high stockings. price’s man spread widern and a smirk rested high in his cheeks when he set his sights on you.

“well aren’t up just dashing, my darling.” the older man pulled you in by your waist, kissing you perky nipples through the thin fabric, a whimper leaving your lips.

somehow you’d both had made it to your shared bedroom, long before ridden every piece of clothing that adorned ones both of your bodies, except for the stockings. john had you facing the end of the bed, ass up for him to pound into your tight, little cunt. he’d used his belt to tie your hands together behind your back and his hand was pressed into the back of your head, shoving your face in your messy sheets.

“breathtaking beauty,” john groaned his praises, his free hand bringing a harsh smack to your backside. you yelped at the sudden contact, tears pricking your eyes from complete pleasure. “i just can’t believe this, you, are all mine.”

you were at your limit, john having coaxed two other orgasms out of you while in the living room and now you’re about to reach your third and final. you were a mess of slobber, whimpers and moans. you couldn’t keep quite even if it were to save you life. john felt too good, his balls slapping against your swollen bud and his head toying with your sweet spot.

suddenly the hand that price had pushed your face into the bed, gripped your hair and lifted your head. john leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple before leaning into the shell of your ear. “why don’t you smile at the camera, pretty girl.”

unbeknownst to you, john had other plans for those cameras than just for security. of course, he wanted to make sure you were safe, but he also had his own devilish desires. after having them installed, he had given the code to each one of the members of tf141. he made sure to emphasize to tune into the show tonight.

you should be angry, you should be beating on his chest with a string of curses and further insults. but the thought of the others watching john make a sputtering mess of you had your core heating up even more, a fire ignited in the lowest part of your belly.

you look up to the camera at the corner of your room with half lidded eyes and gave a hazy smile, making sure to blow a kiss at it too. john’s low chuckle vibrated through his chest and into your back before he shoved your face back into the plush fabric of your sheets. he fucked you harder, deeper than he had in a long time, as if to put on a show for the boys.

he groaned, another hard smack to the fat of your ass. he reached around and wrapped a large hand around your throat, pulling you up once more and squeezing only a tad. “what a dirty girl, getting off on letting my mates watch you through their screens.”

the thought of them palming themself through their briefs had you pushing yourself over the edge, a shiver up your spine and an orgasm ripping through your body. a couple ‘ah’s’ flowed through your lips as john reach his end as well, spilling his seed deep into your womb.

“that’s my girl.” john huffed out, pressing a string of kisses to your spine. he pulled out of you and gave a small nod to the camera, signaling the end of your endeavors.

you could get used to this: walking around in little to nothing, teasing your fiancé and his men. purposefully setting yourself in clear view of the camera, letting them watch you touch yourself, maybe even moan their names if john would allow it (he most definitely would).

[eyelambspider]

𝟎𝟔. 𝐄𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 & 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

Day SIX of Kink/Creeptober!! Here is a list of my prompts & event terms!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : monster!könig x gn!reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Now that you're his (and aren't deterred by the tentacles hiding under his hood) König really doesn't want you to leave. At least, not without a little mark on your skin. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 600 ! 𝐚/𝐧 : this ones more softer but uh-König's needy so- yeah könig's got cuteness aggression towards you :) 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : established relationship, possessive/obsessive/jealousy themes, tentacles (smh), FLUFF, suggestive (like light smut?)/grinding

𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐒𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓. He didn't want you to go so soon.

"Liebling..." he hissed like a loving murmur, trying to convince you to stay with him. "Please?"

He didn't beg, not to a man with a gun pointed to his head, not for anything... except for you.

König was doing everything in his power to change your mind. The tall colonel had you propped on his lap, facing him. His strong arms barred around your waist, cradling the back of your head and trying to smother his face into your scent.

You squirmed a little. He could feel your hips shifting in a way that made him grin against your skin. Purring lovingly into the crook of your neck. The tentacles he once cursed poked out from the bottom of his sniper's veil, tentatively prodding your soft skin.

He adored your skin. The smell, the way it tasted so sweet.

"Please?" he repeated again, feeling a bit disheartened when you didn't answer him initially.

He was getting a bit pushy now. Squeezing your body tighter to his chest, loving the way you just squished against him. Tangling his rough hands into your hair.

You were so verdammt cute.

"König," you stared, the tone implying exactly what he worried.

You were going to leave.

A low growl ebbed from his throat. The tentacles writhing a bit angrily at the thought of letting you go for even a second right now... but he knew he had to.

"Verdammt, sag meinen Namen nicht so…" he whispered, snuggling into your collarbone maybe one last time. Second last time.

He just wanted a bit longer.

"I just... don't like that I can't go with you," he admitted through his teeth. He would be unable to protect you, and although you insist he doesn't need to...

He see's the way other men look at you.

The thought makes him pout again, unexpectedly grinding his hips flush again yours, bouncing you softly in his lap.

"I'm sorry," he grumbled hotly against the shell of your ear. The tentacles from his face slowly receded. From wrapping lovingly around your ear, to playing with the tips of your hair, and unlatching from your neck... to pulling away reluctantly.

König sat up with a sigh and peered down at you, still trying to convey how hard it was to physically let you go. Pouring the emotion into his eyes.

Then he saw it.

Those deep sapphire eyes of his flickering down from your face.

The last of his tendrils had tucked back under his sniper mask comfortably, but there, on the delicate flesh of your throat. One of the suction cups had left a little red mark, one that was quickly fading away.

Before you could shift off his lap, thinking you were finally free. König grabbed your hips with a small, suggestive purr in his voice "Maybe I should give you something before you leave, schatz."

Although his mischief had you... dubious, you sighed and let him pull you back with a soft smile. He was adorable.

König dipped his head back down towards the side of your neck, a tendril lifting the mask just above his mouth so that his lips could feel your skin.

He nearly groaned, feeling your pulse beneath his teeth. A smirk playing on his scarred lips as he imagined how pretty you would look with his little bite marks all over your skin.

It would leave no doubt in his mind then: He would let you leave only once you were covered in them. Enough for every other man to see that you were his.

König panted against you, kissing gingerly before he nipped the sensitive flesh harshly, leaving a pretty bruise under his tongue.

[sea-lanterns]

OUR BELOVED EMPRESS

synopsis: empress! AU with the liyue women as your courtesans.

featuring: ningguang, beidou, keqing, ganyu, yelan, shenhe

rating: 18+ n.s.f.w (men and minors dni)

warnings: switch! gn! afab reader, reader is referred to as pretty, beautiful, etc. polyamory, mentions of harem, reader is referred to as the "empress." arranged relationships, established relationships, finger.ing, scissoring, semi-public s.ex, fucking in an alleyway, biting, pining, cunnilingus, dirty talk, mastur.bation, not entirely proof read.

art credits: moonlight garden

NINGGUANG

Courtesan Ningguang! Who was the first courtesan presented to you by your father. A woman of high class and influence; the Tianquan of Liyue herself. It was a no-brainer that she would be the first potential candidate as your wife, as not only was she an influential figurehead, but she was someone who was intelligent and cunning. Two wonderful traits for a queen consort to have…

Courtesan Ningguang! Who arrives at your palace in the fanciest of attires. Golden nails brushing up against your hand before pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “It is an honor to be in your presence, my empress…” she whispers seductively, looking up at you with red ruby eyes. “…and an honor to be your first courtesan.” 

Courtesan Ningguang! Who serves as a reliable shoulder for you to lean on whenever your family is in peril. Assassinations, business problems, drama within the harem. Ningguang serves as the voice of reason and someone who can soothe the stress in your body. She may be a busy woman, but she always finds time to free you of your worries, ending the day with massages or gentle kisses to your temple that leave you feeling red.

Courtesan Ningguang! Who gets along with pretty much all the other courtesans except Courtesan Beidou. She had some beef with her prior to joining the imperial harem and sometimes gets annoyed whenever the pirate woman gets too rough with you. “Beidou, I think our empress would enjoy it if you didn’t throw her over your shoulder…” She rolls her eyes when she sees Beidou running out of the palace with you in her arms. Not liking how her beloved empress’ body was always manhandled by that giant brute.

Courtesan Ningguang! Who always snatches you away from the pirate whenever her back is turned. Wanting some alone time with you after having to share you with her the whole day. “Worry not my dear empress, I’ll treat you much softer than that barbarian of a woman…” She gently places you on the bed and smirks suggestively. “Let me massage that sore skin of yours…”

Courtesan Ningguang! Who enjoys taking her time in thoroughly massaging your body. Your shoulders, your back, your breasts… She loves how her dear, beloved empress writhes under her touch and moans into the pillows. “Does that feel good, my empress? Shall I go lower…?” Her silky hands trail down your stomach like a pathway, “I knew it, my beloved is all so sore…”

Courtesan Ningguang! Who has you arching your back off the bed while she thrusts her fingers into your cunt, sopping wet smacks echoing throughout the room as her palm slaps your clit over and over. “My beautiful empress…all wet and squirming for me…” her eyes glazed over with lust before pressing dark lipstick stains against your body, spanning from your neck to your thighs. “Squirming only for me…”

Courtesan Ningguang! Who has you wrapped up in her embrace while kissing your neck and cleaning the release off your thighs. She adores taking care of you after sex, and will often stay close to you to keep you grounded after your high. “Feeling better?” She’d murmur against your ear, pressing another small kiss to the shell, “Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll warm up a bath for us soon…”

Courtesan Ningguang! Who keeps you warm in the bath with her body, humming a small tune in the spacious tub while washing the sweat off your body. “My beloved empress, I promise to always take care of you…” she whispers, using a small washcloth to wipe off your temple lovingly. “That is my promise to you as your first courtesan…”

BEIDOU

Courtesan Beidou! Who offered to be your second courtesan after spotting your beauty wandering at the docks. What’s a pretty face like you doing around such dangerous and smelly terrain? Don’t worry though, Captain Beidou will keep you safe. Both on the docks and in your palace because now she intends on marrying you…

Courtesan Beidou! Who shows off her impeccable strength and muscle, impressing your father as you needed someone strong who could pass that on to your heirs. Beidou loves spoiling you with her strength, and you oftentimes find her lifting you into her arms to carry you from place to place. 

Courtesan Beidou! Who has some beef with your first courtesan: Ningguang. She doesn’t like how prissy and strict Ningguang can be, so she often sneaks you out whenever you’re spending time with her. Practically kidnapping you in your own home, as she throws you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and laughs while carrying you to her secret spot. “Don’t worry my empress, we won’t get caught. I’ll make sure of it…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who is the rebel of the imperial harem. She’s the one who sneaks you out the most and helps you do risqué things like sneaking out to see the Lantern Rite without guard supervision. “We don’t need those pesky guards, you have me…” she’d always say, pressing a kiss to your worried little brows. “I’ll keep you safe, my sweet empress…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who chuckles and covers your mouth as you both hide in the bushes of the royal gardens, making out under the moonlight in order to have a little midnight rendezvous with just the two of you. “Naughty little empress…” Beidou purrs, groaning in your ear as she sits you on her lap, “Playing hooky with the pirate, eh? Pretty thing like you was just craving for some fun…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who rubs her large, calloused hands over your folds and sinks two massive fingers inside. “Shhh…there are guards nearby…” she’d whisper into your ear, chuckling quietly at the way you rode her fingers so desperately behind the bushes. “Hah…such a desperate one…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who holds you close to her and smirks when she overhears guards trying to find their missing empress. The other courtesans worried sick for your whereabouts, when you were just sitting behind the bushes getting your brains fucked out by the second courtesan. Whimpering and shaking under the captain’s touch, as no one has ever treated you this roughly before…

Courtesan Beidou! Who chuckles as you climax all over her thighs, stroking a hand down your spine before kissing you tenderly. “You did so well, my empress…” she murmurs out huskily, making sure you are kept warm as she drapes her cape over your shoulders. “Rest now, you precious thing. Your captain’s got you from here…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who sneaks you back into your room with your nude body clinging onto hers. She makes sure her muscular body covers you entirely, as she tucks you into bed and pets your cheek endearingly. “Sleep now, my dearest ocean pearl, I will ensure everything is settled with the others.” And with a gentle kiss from the huge, burly pirate, she leaves to go settle your whereabouts with the other courtesans, making sure her dearest empress was safe and sound…

KEQING

Courtesan Keqing! Who was the third courtesan recommended to you by the first courtesan: Ningguang. She is a member of the Liyue Qixing and due to her high status as the Yuheng, it made her a very strong candidate for Queen consort and your potential wife.

Courtesan Keqing! Who is the most uptight out of all the courtesans in your harem. She’s the one who keeps you in line whenever you act up, and is the one who scolds you most of the time whenever you sneak out with the other courtesans. (Cough. Beidou and Yelan. Cough) She doesn’t mean to be so hard on you, but you are the empress of Liyue! You needed to be prim and proper! 

Courtesan Keqing! Who takes up the responsibility of helping you manage your extracurriculars. Whether it’s dance practice, embroidery or managing certain affairs, Keqing is always the one helping you and making sure you understand what to do. “Like this, my empress,” she says for the sixteenth time, cupping your waist as she guides you to the music of the zither. “Eyes on me, a royal must never look at their feet…”

Courtesan Keqing! Who is prickly on the outside but sweet on the inside whenever she’s alone with you. Keqing hates to admit it, but her empress is someone she cares very deeply about, and she wants to see you flourish into a beautiful and powerful leader for Liyue. “My empress, please, allow me…” she murmurs softly as she helps tie the sash to your robe. “Honestly, next time you should let me dress you in the mornings…”

Courtesan Keqing! Who can’t help but think dirty thoughts about her empress all day long in that little head of hers. Her mind runs vivid with wonders of your naked body and she can’t help but touch herself late into the night while thinking of you. “My empress…” Keqing moans out softly, fingers rubbing at her folds while she spreads herself out on her bed, masturbating to today’s image of you practicing calligraphy with her in your office. 

Courtesan Keqing! Who’s always been unable to hide her lust for you. The way your hands move so delicately over the paper, writing in quick, languid strokes that have her going crazy. “Ah…!” Keqing gasps as a deep, burning ache in her core begs to be satisfied. “Forgive me, my empress…” she mumbles to herself, heart racing like crazy as she realizes she’s touching herself to her beloved empress.

Courtesan Keqing! Who jumps when she sees you standing at the door, smiling softly at her lewd display. You wanted to help her? Touch her? Her empress!? Keqing blushes at the thought and tries not to get too excited. “O-Only if you insist, my empress…” she murmurs softly, feeling your body dip into the bed and roam your hands all over her. “Oh…”

Courtesan Keqing! Who’s not the same, strict person she is when she’s in bed with you. Her body reacts ever so sensitively to your touch, as she lets you explore her body quietly under the moonlight. “Hah…now don’t be a tease…” Keqing chuckles nervously, “You know I hate it when you test my patience.” 

Courtesan Keqing! Who is more than eager to help guide you on how to touch a woman. Her voice alike to that of her tutor persona, except this time she was teaching you how to fuck her. “Just like that, my empress…” she pants out breathlessly, shivering as you insert a finger into her folds, “You've always been such a quick learner…”

GANYU

Courtesan Ganyu! Who was the fourth courtesan recommended to you by both Ningguang and Keqing. The secretary of the Qixing and a half adepti that possessed impressive capabilities, she impressed your father as well as he knew that a Qilin would protect you and bring good fortune to the family. (And produce strong Qilin heirs…)

Courtesan Ganyu! Who is the gentlest and sweetest out of all your courtesans. She’s the one who tries to sneak into your bed in the middle of the night to snuggle with you, which often leads to you waking up to a sleepy Qilin woman resting on your chest. Sometimes you can catch her snoring in her sleep, but you don’t mind it because she’s just so damn cute…

Courtesan Ganyu! Who despite being so clingy, knows to maintain a certain degree of professionalism as she’s the one who takes care of the dreaded paperwork. As a secretary of the Qixing, she has her fair share of experience when it comes to tinier affairs, so she’ll always offer to help you, even when you insist you have it under control. “Please don’t overwork yourself, my dear. I’ll take care of it as soon as possible…”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who despite being so soft and gentle, has a strong, protective side whenever you are threatened. “Get behind me, my empress. I’ll take care of him!” She exclaims rather protectively, making sure you stay behind her while she charges a cryo arrow at the intruder. “Ah, he’s gone now, my dear. Are you okay? Were you frightened?”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who is the best at calming you down whenever you get into a dangerous situation. While the other courtesans are busy dealing with whoever threatened or harmed you, Ganyu is by your side and holding you tightly against her body. Soothing you with her touch as she makes sure her darling empress isn’t harmed in the slightest. “Do not fret, my love. Beidou, Yelan and Shenhe have gone after the assassin. They won’t threaten you again…” she presses a small kiss to your cheek and makes sure you’re calmed down before heading back into the safety of your room, holding your hand every step of the way. 

Courtesan Ganyu! Who sees you’re clearly frightened for your life and tries to calm you down by distracting you with intimate touches. Her fluffy blue hair tickles your skin as she cups your cheek to make you face her. “Why don’t we do something to distract ourselves,” she whispers shyly, a blush overcoming her features. “I'll help you forget all the anxiety you felt today…”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who is lying on her back with her cunt squished against yours. Gasping and moaning as you rut into her thighs and try to scissor your way to an orgasm. “Ah…mnngh…you’re doing so well, my empress…” Ganyu pants, her soft skin sending you into another plane of ecstasy. “So good…so good…keep moving— nngh…hah…~”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who wants only the best for her beloved empress so she pulls you down halfway to meet for a kiss. Hips melding together in sticky, wet squelches as she pants and lolls her tongue out into yours. “Is it good…? Do I feel good…?” She so desperately wants to please you, it makes your heart melt and you can’t help but groan. “I take that as a yes…hah…I love you, my empress…”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who lies beside you after cumming all over your thighs, pulling you close so she could lay by your side like the loyal courtesan she was. “I’m glad you felt good, my dear…” Ganyu whispers sweetly, before brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. “I will always keep you relaxed, that is my duty as your beloved courtesan…”

YELAN

Courtesan Yelan! Who becomes your fifth courtesan after saving you from a bunch of bounty hunters holding you hostage. After making sure you were safe and sound in her arms, she feels something stir within her chest when she gets a closer look at your face. To the public, your face was often hidden behind a thin, lacy veil in order to conceal your identity. However, as your veil is pulled back, Yelan now had a full view of the beautiful empress underneath. A sight that left her speechless and with a desire to become yours…

Courtesan Yelan! Who isn’t seen around the palace as often as the other girls due to her missions, but always makes sure to greet you in your room whenever she gets back. “Hey, darling. Missed me?” She’s perched lazily on your balcony with a Glaze Lily in her hand. “I got you a lil’ something on my mission. No need to thank me…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who, like Beidou, will often sneak you out into the city to experience things you’ve never felt before. She takes you around to see all that Liyue has to offer, and encourages you to try ordinary things that you may or may not have tried.  “Here, try this. It’s called a kebab.” Yelan chuckles as you look at her with confusion, wondering how on Teyvat you eat this without utensils. “Pfft, you just bite the food off the skewer, empress. Here, let me show you…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who enjoys showing you and teaching you the simpler things in life. You may be a sheltered empress, but Yelan can show you just how fun an ordinary life can be. “Who knew the empress could be so messy when they eat…” she chuckles as you struggle to eat the kebab stick off the skewer, wiping the sauce off your lips with a napkin. “You’re just so cute…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who takes you by the hand to pull you into a dark alleyway. She just saw a few guards patrolling the area and had to act fast, pushing you up against the wall and shielding you with your body. “Apologies for the tight space, my empress…” Yelan chuckles, cupping your cheek to look at her, “We just have to stay here a little while longer…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who sees her sweet little empress getting shy for being in such an intimate position. She can’t help but tease you more as she leans in closer to tilt your chin forward. “You know, since it’s so dark, no one will be able to see their beloved empress getting naughty with her courtesan…” she trails a hand down to your ass and cups it, giving it a teasing squeeze. “Some ordinary people fuck in alleyways when they have the chance. Would you like to try, my dear empress…?” 

Courtesan Yelan! Who has her empress pinned up against the wall with their robe pulled up and exposing their privates. Yelan kneeling down to your glistening hole and spreading it open with her thumbs. “Oh, how precious…” she purrs to herself, giving it a sensual lick. “It even puckers when I breathe…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who cannot believe she’s giving head to the empress in such a dirty and dimly lit alleyway. She had to admit, seeing her empress whimpering and begging for more in a place this low class was really turning her on. “Yeah? You like that…?” Yelan laughs into your cunt, pushing her nose deeper against your clit, “You like getting eaten out in a dirty alleyway? My, my…you surprise me everyday your majesty…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who is so proud of you when you climax all over her face and paint her tongue white with your cum. She wipes the residue off her face and stands up to kiss you, letting you taste what you accomplished in that dirty, dark alleyway with her. “You did so well, my dear…” Yelan whispers, quickly fastening your robes back on so the two of you could leave. “Come on, it’s about time we head back to the palace…”

SHENHE

Courtesan Shenhe! Who was the sixth courtesan presented to you by Cloud Retainer herself, an adepti that your father greatly respected and admired. Cloud Retainer promised your father that her disciple: Shenhe would bring great strength and protection to your family, as well as ward off any evil spirits that dare threaten your bloodline. Though heavily antisocial and a bit…intimidating to your father, he accepted her into the family and made her the sixth courtesan in your harem. 

Courtesan Shenhe! Who is very quiet and doesn’t interact much with anyone but you and her fellow courtesan: Ganyu. She’s quiet, awkward, and doesn’t know what to do, so she just follows you around like a curious little puppy and hopes for the best. While others may find this annoying, you yourself didn’t mind and allowed Shenhe to follow you around as she pleased. Acting like a bodyguard of sorts among your courtesans as she is the only one who is stuck by your side at all times.

Courtesan Shenhe! Who seems so dangerous and intimidating to others, yet soft and gentle around you. She loves how you cup her face and treat her so kindly, her heart thumping whenever her dearest empress kisses her, and palms getting sweaty because she just adores you so much. “…Is my face that fun to hold?” She asks when you do this for the umpteenth time. She doesn’t mind it, in fact she seems to enjoy it. “If that is what my empress likes to do, then so be it…” You are the only one in the world who could touch her like this…

Courtesan Shenhe! Who is like a tall guard dog whenever she accompanies you outside the palace. She stands protectively by your side, keeping watch of any activity or accidents that could harm her beloved empress. “…The road is slippery. Should I carry you? I don’t want you to fall.” Before you could even respond, she picks you up anyway, “…I’m carrying you.”

Courtesan Shenhe! Who is so strong and agile that she manages to take you across Liyue with just her arm strength alone. Taking you to a private spot in the mountains so the two of you could have a private picnic date together away from the other courtesans. “Is the ground soft enough for you, my empress?” Shenhe tilts her head and makes sure you’re seated on a comfortable patch of grass. If sitting on the ground isn’t to your liking, then perhaps it’d be best to sit on her lap instead. Which you do.

Courtesan Shenhe! Who quivers under your touch as you caress her face lovingly, her muscles easing under your hold as she allows herself to indulge with you for once. “Your majesty…” she can feel herself grow hot as you press a kiss to her temple, groans rumbling from her throat as she yearned for more. “I want…more.”

Courtesan Shenhe! Who can’t stop herself from pushing her beloved empress down to the ground, the red ropes trying to suppress her carnal desire for you as she kisses and bites your neck with want. “Ganyu taught me how to properly please you…” she mumbles against your skin, her hands moving down to unfasten your sash. “I will do my best. You can count on me, my empress.”

Courtesan Shenhe! Who uses the skills she learned from other courtesans to pleasure you as best as she could. Slender hands lifting your thighs up as she slots her cunt against yours rather harshly. “Mnngh…Courtesan Ganyu taught me that this was called scissoring…” While groaning out her words, Shenhe begins rutting her hips into yours to try and replicate what Ganyu described. “Is this right? It feels right…nngh…” She tries her best to hold in her moans but it just feels so good. Though her moves are sloppy and you barely feel any good rhythm, you could tell Shenhe was enjoying herself and that was all that mattered to you.

Courtesan Shenhe! Who tries her hardest to get you off  but it just isn’t enough. She’s not that experienced in pleasing a person compared to the other girls but that’s okay, you’ll teach her… “My empress…? What— oh!” Shenhe’s eyes widen as you gently flip her over, deciding she’s done enough to please you for one day. “…I see. You wish to teach me how to scissor properly? …Very well.”

[moeitsu]

The Dark Tide Siren!Arthur Morgan x Reader Modern AU Ch 6 - Caught Between Two Worlds Summary: Hosea gathers the team for a meeting to bring everyone up to speed on the facility’s newest resident. But when the discussion turns to Arthur’s behavior, all eyes land on you. How do you explain what you’ve seen—what you’ve felt—without revealing just how deeply involved you’ve become? wc: 8.4k tw: none! Swim Back! ↞ ﹏𓊝﹏ ↠ Sail Ahead!

AN: Get ready for some info dumping about Arthur's biology. Reader is about to discover that he's a whole lot more complicated than meets the eye...

tag list: @photo1030 @v3lv3tf0x @ireallyhonestlydontcare @shygamergirl01 @cloudywithachanceofcrisis @sevikaspuertoricanwife @abducted-cowz @bomdada

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I received the group text from Hosea this morning about an emergency team meeting before doors opened at 8 a.m., but still, my heart raced with worry. No matter how much I tried to prepare myself, the weight of it all just kept pressing in, suffocating. This is real. Soon, the entire facility would know about Arthur—his existence, his pain, his torment. They would want to study him, question him, prod at the mystery of what he was. He was an enigma even to the most renowned scientists, and now, he was no longer a secret.

And he would no longer be mine.

What the hell am I even thinking? Arthur isn’t some kind of pet. 

I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting at the thought. Arthur was never mine to begin with. He wasn’t something to be kept, to be held onto. He had spent his life running from chains, from being owned, from being a specimen in a tank just like this. And yet, despite all logic, despite every warning in my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us this morning.

His words echoed in my mind with every step I took down the long corridor toward the conference room.

The space is nice, bigger than what I had before.

He had said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. But beneath those words was an unspoken truth. It’s still a cage. No walls of glass, no simulated ocean could change that. He didn’t belong here. He should be out there, in the vast, endless blue, moving freely as the tide pulled and pushed him wherever he pleased. He should be collecting treasures and trinkets, hoarding them away in whatever place he called home.

He should be with his own people. If he even knew where to find them.

The way he looked at me—like my gift meant more to him than just a token of my apology, like it was something sacred—it made my chest ache with an emotion I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. I love it, he had said, and I’d never seen his eyes so bright, so full of gratitude and something else—something warm.

But it wasn’t just the shell.

I had a sinking feeling that the shell I gave him was the first and only gift he had ever received. Judging by his reaction, it wasn’t just a trinket to him. He didn’t look at me like I had handed him a scrap of debris washed ashore, something forgotten and discarded by the tide. No, he looked at me like I had just breathed life into his gills after he had spent a lifetime suffocating. Like I had given him something he didn’t know he was allowed to have. 

I was opening doors for him that will never close again. 

Those crystalline blue eyes—so filled with sorrow and pain—had glimmered, however briefly, with true happiness. Real, unfiltered joy. I just wanted to dive into the water, uncaring if I drowned, and wrap my arms around him. Hold him the way he had never been held before, with a tenderness that he had been denied for too long. To press my cheek to his and whisper the words I knew he had never heard but desperately needed. 

You’re safe. You’re free. You’re worthy of love.

But that wasn’t my job.

No, my job was to rescue, rehabilitate, and release. And Arthur was not mine to keep.

Not mine to love. 

The weight of that truth pressed heavy in my chest as I forced myself to swallow my nerves, inhaling deeply to steady the storm raging inside me. I could already hear the loud chatter echoing from beyond the glass door, the energy buzzing in the air like static before a storm. It was going to be one hell of a meeting. Not only were we about to confirm that, yes, magical sea creatures—ones that looked half-man, half-fish—actually existed, but more than that, we had one right here in our facility.

And that I had, more than once, drifted too close to him—touched him so intimately that even the tides would whisper of it.

Shaking the thoughts from my head—or at least trying to—I pushed open the door and slipped into the conference room, sliding into a seat beside John. 

“This is already shaping up to be a dumpster fire,” John muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You ready for it?”

I let out a slow sigh. “Do I have a choice? You’re the one who dragged me into this mess to begin with.”

John only grinned, shaking his head.

My heart was still hammering against my ribs, but I forced myself to sit tall, to appear unaffected. Normal. Like I hadn’t spent the last twenty-four hours tangled up in something far bigger than myself.

Like I hadn’t spent the night replaying every stolen touch, every lingering glance—fantasizing about his rugged face, the powerful lines of his body, and all the ways I could explore him further—Stop. 

I needed to stop. But the more I tried to push him from my mind, the deeper he sank into me, like saltwater soaking into my very bones.

At the front of the room, Charles and Lenny stood beside a double-sided whiteboard, stacks of textbooks and research papers scattered across the table. Lenny had a dry erase marker in his hand, a few more tucked into his breast pocket. He was speaking quietly to Charles, likely bracing himself for the moment he would drop the news of his findings on the rest of the team.

The room quieted as Hosea and Sadie made their way inside, the air shifting with an unspoken gravity. Sadie took a seat opposite me, offering a polite smile and a small tip of her hat. I returned the gesture with a nod and a quick wave, though the anticipation buzzing in the room made it hard to focus on pleasantries.

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into the fabric of my pants beneath the table. Here we go.

Hosea cleared his throat, resting his hands on the back of an empty chair as he looked around the room. His gaze was warm, familiar—like a father addressing his family.

“Mornin’, everyone. I hope you all got a strong cup of coffee in you because today’s gonna be a big one.” He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “I know I ask a lot from you, but that’s because I know what we’re capable of when we pull together as a team. If there’s anyone who can handle a crisis like this one, it’s the people in this room.”

Hosea straightened, his presence commanding yet reassuring as he met each of our gazes, his voice carrying a weight that settled deep in our chests. It wasn’t just a speech—it was a call to action.

“We’ve got ourselves a new resident. And he’s gonna need us—all of us.”

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

I had to hand it to Lenny—he gave it to us straight. No sugarcoating, no easing us into the reality of it. Hosea had just dropped the bombshell that our new resident wasn’t like anything we’d ever encountered before. Not just a rare specimen or an undocumented creature, but something entirely new, something that defied the limits of scientific research. There was no guidebook for this. No precedent. Just theories, speculation, and a desperate need to understand.

And that was where Lenny came in.

Charles’ bright young intern had spent the last day and a half buried in textbooks, research papers, mythology records—anything that could shed light on what we were dealing with. He had scoured articles, cross-referenced folklore with science, searching for even the smallest thread of truth woven through centuries of legend.

He pulled together everything he thought would be useful for us to know. But even after all his research, even after countless hours spent dissecting old stories and fragmented knowledge, there was still so much we didn’t know. Because this wasn’t just a new discovery. It was the unraveling of something ancient, something hidden beneath the waves for longer than humans had been searching.

One thing, however, was certain.

Our new resident was only half human. And while we had yet to understand the full extent of his biology, there was no denying the truth Lenny had uncovered. He was, without a doubt, part of a species long spoken of in myths and whispered about in sailor’s tales.

A siren, part of a clan of merfolk. 

To my surprise, I found myself completely enraptured by what Lenny had uncovered—every piece of information another thread weaving together the mystery of Arthur. It wasn’t just what Lenny had learned that held my attention, but how much of it I had already seen firsthand. Arthur’s ability to breathe both on land and in water, his dual hearts working in tandem to circulate blood through his gills and body, the mesmerizing bioluminescence that pulsed beneath his skin—things I had experienced up close but hadn’t fully understood.

Then Lenny mentioned something that made my breath hitch. The scale colors and patterns, he explained, weren't universal amongst all sirens. It was specific to certain demographics, a unique adaptation belonging only to particular species. That revelation sent my mind racing—where exactly did Arthur come from? What did that make him? How rare was he, even among his own kind?

And then came the detail that sent murmurs rippling through the room.

“From everything I’ve been able to piece together,” Lenny said, flipping through his notes, “it appears that sirens, at least most—are naturally intersex. Meaning they can reproduce in more than one way.”

Lenny turned the whiteboard around, revealing detailed diagrams and scattered notes. As the board came into view, my breath caught in my throat—this wasn’t just a casual briefing; this was an entire body of research, as if he’d been putting together a puzzle with pieces that shouldn’t fit, but somehow did.

I heard the sharp intake of breath from a few people, the hushed whispers as some struggled to process it. As if that, of all things, was the strangest part about him. I had to bite my tongue to keep from rolling my eyes. They were still trying to grasp the enormity of what was being thrown at them, still coming to terms with the fact that a living, breathing myth was swimming in our tank.

I, on the other hand, had already had the privilege of knowing him—of seeing the depth in those ocean-blue eyes, of hearing the warmth in his voice, of feeling the raw vulnerability he had only ever shown to me. Arthur was so much more than the sum of his strange and wondrous biology.

“Alright, let’s go over the basics,” Lenny began, his voice steady and matter-of-fact, the excitement still hanging in his words. “First, we’ve confirmed that Arthur’s anatomy fits the general description of sirens from several ancient texts and reports. We’ve got a few key details that we still don’t fully understand, but we’re working on it. As long as he’s willing to work with us.”

He pointed to the large diagram of a siren’s anatomy. There were labeled sections showing gills, heart chambers, and the unique structure of their reproductive organs. “As you can see here,” he said, “sirens generally have two penises—yes, two—and they can use them in different ways depending on the situation. One for reproduction, and one that’s used in mating displays, though it’s not entirely clear what triggers which.” He glanced up at the room, letting the words sink in before moving on.

This revelation earned a sarcastic remark from our diver, Sean—delivered with his usual smirk—only for him to be swiftly silenced by a sharp swat from his wife, Karen, our ever-graceful receptionist and greeter. With a pointed look that spoke volumes, she reminded him to keep his quips in check.

I could feel my pulse quicken as I processed the information, knowing this was only the beginning. It wasn’t until he pointed to a section labeled ‘Egg Carrying’ that I felt a chill run down my spine. 

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Lenny continued. “Sirens aren’t exactly mammals. They carry eggs internally, which is how they produce offspring. But given Arthur’s half-human biology, this part of his anatomy is still unconfirmed. We can’t say for sure if he has the ability to reproduce the same way. Though, judging by some traits in the more traditional sirens, it’s entirely possible.”

Lenny uncapped his marker and circled a spot near the siren diagram’s abdomen, where a uterus would typically be. “This is where the eggs are carried, and according to some texts, if they aren’t fertilized during the mating period, the body expels them.” He hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room before adding, “So, uh… basically, they have a menstrual cycle.” 

Holy shit. Maybe Arthur and I were more alike than I had ever realized.

The revelation hit me like a tidal wave, dragging me under as my thoughts spiraled. Arthur had told me about his son, but he had spared the details of how he came to be. I had assumed self-fertilization, a clinical, detached process—something he had endured without much choice. But now, hearing that sirens could carry eggs internally, my perception shifted.

Had his body gone through the slow, grueling process of carrying life? Or was it something entirely different, something beyond human comprehension? Did he suffer through the same hormonal shifts, the same aches and exhaustion? Did he experience cramps? Did he bleed? What do siren eggs even look like? Or siren babies? 

I was morbidly fascinated by all of it.

But the more I tried to piece it together, the deeper my sympathy for him grew. Reproduction, no matter the species, was taxing—sometimes dangerous, even fatal. And Arthur had done it alone. No support. No comfort. No one to share the weight of it. I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with something heavy and familiar.

What else had he endured in silence?

The more I learned, the more I was filled with unanswered questions and layers of suffering that were beyond my comprehension. My heart ached for Arthur, for the pain he had carried alone and the weight of everything he still bore.

“Now,” he said, tapping the board with a marker. “I want to talk about courtship before we get to the main event. This part is particularly fascinating.” He turned back to the diagram, showing what looked like faint patterns across the skin that followed the nervous system. “This bioluminescence plays a huge part in their mating rituals. It’s used to signal attraction and readiness, much like a bird flashing its feathers. And the patterns and brightness can change based on mood, emotions, or desire.”

I thought back to Arthur, the way his lights had flickered when he was near me, when I touched him, how they pulsed in time with his heartbeat. My breath caught in my throat. He hadn’t just been reacting to the environment—

He’d been reacting to me.

“Then there’s the purring,” Lenny added, tapping the board again on the chest region of his diagram. “Sirens, like most marine creatures, have a complex system of vocalizations, but purring in this context isn’t just a sign of contentment. It’s also an expression of affection, a way of signaling comfort and safety. It seems to be most common in pairs who are actively courting. The sound can be low, almost subsonic, and is used to build intimacy and trust.”

I thought back to the moments when Arthur’s purring reverberated in the water, the sensation so deep and primal it sent a shiver through me, like a current running beneath my skin. I could still feel it, the vibrating hum, echoing in my chest, stirring something inside me. 

Had I truly made him feel safe enough to express it? The thought warmed my heart. But then again, how much of it had been instinctual? Had I been too naïve to recognize the signs?

Gods, everything I had found so utterly fascinating, so enchanting about him, turned out to be a part of a mating ritual. My heart twisted as I realized how blind I had been. He’d told me—Arthur had literally told me—that he was struggling to control his lights, that it was mating season for him, that his body was flooding with hormones and urges he was trying so desperately to tame. 

I felt like an idiot. I should have put the pieces together sooner. Instead, I had been mesmerized by his allure, consumed by an attraction that now seemed to carry so much more weight than I had ever fully understood.

“Finally,” Lenny said, his voice softening, pulling me from my thoughts. “There’s the tradition of gift-giving.”

I felt a pair of eyes burning into me, and when I glanced around the room, I saw Charles standing by the door. He was leaning casually against the frame, as if he was still absorbed in Lenny’s lesson, but his eyes—those warm, steady eyes—were fixed directly on me. 

Heat crept up my neck and flooded my cheeks as I met his gaze, and I could feel the weight of everything unspoken between us. The things we hadn’t addressed, the unacknowledged tension. Charles had seen it all—he had witnessed the way Arthur’s lights had flickered with intensity when he was losing control in the exam room. And more than that, he had seen the way Arthur responded to me, to my touch. 

The connection that neither of us had been able to fully understand or express.

It felt like there was something unsaid hanging in the air, a heaviness that pressed down on my chest, suffocating in its silence. I didn’t know if he was concerned, or if it was something else—something neither of us wanted to confront. I couldn’t deny the pull I felt toward Arthur, nor the conflicting emotions that surged through me every time I thought of him. 

But having Charles watch me like this, with that knowing look in his eyes, made it feel like there was nowhere for me to hide this secret. 

And that scared me more than I cared to admit.

“In many of the texts, siren culture places a lot of emphasis on actions rather than words. Since most typically aren't capable of human speech. Giving an offering is their way of accepting courtship, of sharing mutual desire. Letting their partner know they wish to mate.” 

The abalone shell. 

I had found it yesterday at Clemens Cove with Charles, sharing the familiar rhythm of one of our walks along the beach. Grounding me in a moment of comfort amidst uncertainty. But when I picked it up, something in me shifted. It reminded me of Arthur. I wanted to give it to him as a peace offering, an apology for what had transpired between us. 

The words had slipped out before I even had time to question them.

Charles had been there when I found it, and when I told him my intention, his eyes never left mine. His silence spoke volumes, and I realized then that I had made things more complicated than I intended. Without another word, I knew I had dug myself into a deep grave—one that would be harder to climb out of than I ever imagined.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

The room erupted in a flood of chaos the moment Lenny opened the floor for questions.

“I mean, this is absolutely insane,” Mary-Beth breathed, practically vibrating in her seat. “But c’mon guys…a real siren, here? Like, in our facility? This is history in the making! We could be famous for this discovery! I can’t wait to see him in person, when do we get to meet him!?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tilly interjected, her expression thoughtful as she tapped her pen against her notebook. “I want to know more about his biology. How much of him is human, and how much is—well, not?” She scribbled something onto the page, “we don’t even know where he comes from. What he’s capable of.” 

Mary-Beth and Tilly were part of the same internship program as Lenny, fresh-faced college students eager to make their mark in the marine biology world. Their primary focus was in the nursery, caring for orphaned animals and tending to eggs that had been abandoned or rescued. While their work was vastly different from mine, their passion for marine life was undeniable. 

Mary-Beth, ever the optimist, had an almost childlike wonder for every creature she encountered—she fell in love with every baby animal that came through our doors and had a tendency to get attached to them before we could even determine if they’d stay.

Tilly, on the other hand, was more analytical, fascinated by behavioral psychology and genetics. While Mary-Beth was eager to meet Arthur, Tilly was more intrigued by what made him tick. I could already see the gears turning in her mind as she scraped her pen against her notebook, likely running through all the questions she wanted to ask, theories she wanted to test. If anyone in this facility was going to deep-dive into his instincts, it was her.

Across the table, Kieran shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh—hate to be the one to ask, but, is he…dangerous?” His voice was quieter than the rest, but the weight of the question settled over the group like a net. “I mean, I know we’re all excited, but the guy’s got sharp claws and even sharper teeth. And from what I’ve heard he’s big. Do we know exactly what we’re dealing with here?”

“Big’s an understatement,” Sean chimed in, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. “Lad’s probably built like a goddamn shipwreck with a grudge. No offense, but if he decides he don’t like us, we’re all just chum in the water.”

Kieran was the facility’s fisherman, a quiet and steady presence who kept our patients well-fed. Whether he was out on his boat catching fresh fish himself or working with local fisheries to secure a steady supply, he took pride in his work and ensured that every animal in our care had exactly what they needed to thrive. He wasn’t much of a talker, often preferring the solitude of the open water to the chatter of the breakroom, but when he did speak, it was always with careful consideration. 

His concern now was understandable—he had seen firsthand what some of our more predatory rescues were capable of, and Arthur was unlike anything we had ever encountered.

Sean, on the other hand, was Kieran’s polar opposite. As the facility’s diver, he spent most of his time underwater, handling cleanings, repairs, and the occasional rescue operation. He also had a flair for showmanship, leading live demonstrations where visitors could watch him feed the larger fish up close. While Kieran kept his worries close to his chest, Sean wasn’t afraid to voice his own—with a sharp tongue and a grin that often landed him in trouble. He had never met a situation he couldn’t joke his way out of, but there was an edge to his words now, an undercurrent of truth beneath the humor.

“Sean.” Karen shot her husband a pointed look, swatting his arm. “You’re not helping.”

He smirked but held up his hands in surrender. “I’m just sayin’! You all saw those diagrams—two hearts, sharp teeth, glowing like the bloody deep sea. Fascinatin’ sure, but let’s not pretend we aren’t one bad day away from a Discovery Channel special.”

Karen was essentially the glue that held this facility together. Officially, she was the receptionist and greeter, the first warm smile visitors saw when they walked through our doors. But in reality, she was so much more than that. She handled everything from scheduling meetings and coordinating tours to reaching out to local news outlets to spread the word about our latest rescues. She even ran the facility’s social media accounts, curating updates and behind-the-scenes glimpses that helped connect our work to the outside world.

She was a force to be reckoned with. With a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue, especially when it came to keeping Sean in line. While her husband had a tendency to run his mouth, Karen had mastered the art of keeping him just reined in enough to avoid disaster—most of the time. Even now, as Sean leaned back in his chair with a smirk, adding fuel to the fire of Kieran’s concerns, Karen was the one to keep things balanced.

Karen rolled her eyes before turning back to Lenny. “Okay, but seriously—what does he eat? Is Kieran gonna have to go out there and wrestle a shark for him or what?”

Kieran paled. “W-wait, what?”

The room roared with voices once again, each one trying to speak over the other. 

“Nobody’s going to be feeding him any sharks,” The room quieted as Charles' steady voice cut through the noise, silencing the lingering tension in the air. Kieran relaxed, exhaling slowly as the weight of his concerns seemed to lift. Charles gave a small nod, as if reassuring him and everyone else in the room.

“As for his behavior and temperament,” he continued, gaze sweeping over the group, “there’s still a lot we don’t know. He could be dangerous, but so far he’s given us no reason to believe he wants to cause any harm.”

There was a brief pause, and then Charles turned to face me, his eyes locking with mine. I blinked, a sudden wave of unease crashing over me.

“And as for the interaction we’ve been having with him,” he followed with my name, his voice now directed at me. “You seem to be the only one he trusts right now. How is he responding to you? Have you seen any signs of aggression that we need to be aware of?”

I froze. What the fuck, Charles?

The question hit me like a jolt of electricity, and for a split second, I was completely blindsided. I hadn’t prepared for this—not in the slightest. The thought of speaking to the entire team about my interactions with Arthur hadn’t even crossed my mind. They hadn’t told me I would be briefing everyone on the strange, quiet bond I was forming with him. 

Was he asking about his outburst from last night? How was I even supposed to answer this? What could I possibly say without overstepping, without sounding...too involved?

The room seemed to tilt just slightly as all eyes turned toward me. I could feel the weight of their stares like a physical force, pressing down on me, and my throat constricted, making it harder to breathe.

Was Charles expecting me to share everything? To expose every detail of what had happened between Arthur and me? Did he want me to explain how Arthur had only seemed to trust me, how he responded to my voice with such... desperate hope? How he allowed me to touch him without flinching, like my hands had some kind of soothing magic he hadn’t known before? The thought of explaining those moments—the raw, intimate pieces of his existence that I was now learning to navigate—made me freeze even further. 

I wasn't ready to voice all this out loud in front of everyone.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I fumbled for the right words, the right tone. I wanted to be honest, to tell them what I had seen—but how much should I reveal? How much was too much? I hadn’t fully processed how much Arthur’s behavior affected me, how much his actions had been stirring something deep inside my heart. It wasn’t just about him being a ‘new species’—it was about the trust he had shown me despite everything he’d been through.

Taking a steadying breath, I finally spoke, “Well for starters, his name is Arthur. And he is…unique. But from what I’ve seen, he’s not acting out of malice. He’s more… confused, conflicted—hurting.” I explained, finding my voice.  

“He’s very slow to trust. There have been moments when he’s unsure of himself, especially when he’s around others or feels vulnerable. But there’s been no violence. I think we just need to give him time to adjust. To get to know us.”

I swallowed hard, my words feeling like they came from somewhere deeper than I had expected. “Arthur’s not a threat—at least not in the way we’re worried about. But he’s struggling, he’s running from something I’m still only beginning to understand. And I think...I think he’s just looking for a place to belong. There is humanity in him, and despite his looks he is deeply gentle. But he’s smart too, he feels things like any person would.”

“He’s got a smart mouth, that’s for sure,” John quipped with a grin, his sarcastic remark helping to ease some of my nerves. It was a relief to know I wasn’t the only one starting to grow fond of Arthur, that I wasn’t alone in building trust and a sense of friendship with him.

“He’s been held in captivity for so long, and hurt by some really bad people.” I continued, my gaze shifting between Hosea and Sadie. “Arthur’s truly something magnificent, and I hope you all get a chance to bond with him. But right now, he needs us to pull it together to keep him safe.” 

I glanced around the room, meeting their gazes, trying to convey the sincerity of my words. There was a long silence before Charles nodded, his expression thoughtful but unreadable. He had a way of making you feel like you were being examined, dissected, even when he wasn’t saying anything at all.

“Thank you for that assessment,” he said finally, his voice softer. “We’ll take that into account moving forward. But keep us updated, alright? We can’t afford to overlook anything, not with all the unknowns.”

I nodded, grateful for his understanding, but still feeling the heavy responsibility weighing on me. I had to keep walking that fine line, between what was right for the team and what was right for Arthur—and for myself.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

After Lenny stumbled through his answers to the team’s questions, trying his best to keep up with their curiosity and concern, it became clear that the facility couldn’t stay in limbo forever. Visitors were scheduled to arrive, and life needed to continue—so, everyone else returned to their duties, getting back to the normal rhythm of their work. Except for us.

We had to be careful about what we shared. The details of Arthur’s healing ability were kept under wraps for now, and we omitted the specifics about the man and group of scientists who had exploited and tortured him. It was already a lot for the team to process, and we didn’t need to send them into a full-blown panic before we had a better grasp on everything ourselves.

Sadie paced the room, her boots echoing in the quiet as she mentally ran through the details she’d gathered. Every fact and piece of evidence was a thread she was pulling together to form a clearer picture. She wasn’t one to speak lightly when it came to her investigations, and she needed to be thorough. 

With a glance to the others—Hosea, John, Charles, and myself—she cleared her throat before continuing.

“I’ve dug into Dutch Van der Linde’s background. And let me tell you, he’s a slippery one. This man knows how to cover his tracks.” She paused for a beat, letting that sink in. “Most of what I’ve managed to dig up is several years old, but it paints a clear picture. Last we heard of him was out of a place called Blackwater. Authorities got a tip that he was running some kind of laboratory. A facility that used a lot of saltwater and electricity.”

Her gaze hardened, lips pressing into a tight line. “Now, you know as well as I do what that means when it comes to wildlife—hell, any kind of life. He was holding aquatic animals in conditions that were, to put it plainly, illegal. Overcrowded tanks, improper filtration, and not a single care about environmental regulations. One can only imagine how bad it got.”

I felt my stomach churn with nausea, the image of Arthur in those conditions was too much to bear.

Sadie went on, her voice sharp and focused. “Things went south in that lab. I can’t say for sure what exactly happened, but from what I’ve gathered, it was bad enough that people died. Authorities found broken glass, empty tanks, signs of a hasty cover-up. It looked like some kind of accident at first. But Dutch? He covered his tracks, moved his operation, and disappeared without a trace.” 

She gave us a hard look. “We don’t know where he’s gone since, but one thing’s for sure—he’s not someone who’s gonna stop just because we’re onto him now.”

The room hung in tense silence, the weight of Sadie’s words settling over us like a thick fog. She laid out the stark reality of our situation, outlining the two paths we were facing. One was the faint hope that Dutch might just disappear—forget about Arthur and move on to exploit another poor creature, leaving us to breathe easy. 

But the second option, the one that seemed far more likely given everything Arthur had shared about him, was more sinister. Dutch wouldn’t stop until he found Arthur, until he took back what he believed he had a right to possess.

“I’ve got my people keeping their eyes open,” Sadie continued, her tone steady, but her gaze never wavering from us. “But for now, you need to keep quiet about your new resident. Word travels fast, and the last thing we need is for this to reach the wrong ears.”

Hosea nodded, his face thoughtful. “Thank you for doing this, Sadie. We’re taking a great risk here, but it eases my mind to know you’re on our side.”

Sadie offered a polite smile, but before she could speak again, John abruptly stood up from his chair, his frustration boiling over. “So that’s it? We’re just supposed to sit here like sitting ducks, waiting for this psychopath to show up and demand his so-called pet back?” His voice was sharp.

Hosea, ever the calm mediator, began to speak, but John cut him off. His eyes flashed with a fire that came from more than just frustration—there was something raw and deeply personal in his voice. “I’m serious. What the hell do we do if this guy shows up at our doorstep? Are we supposed to just call PETA and have him tried for animal cruelty? Is Arthur supposed to testify in a court? Come on, what’s the plan here? Where exactly do we stand in this? I need to understand how your people will stop this from happening.”

His words echoed in the room, hitting each of us in a different way. For a moment, I felt the same heat in my chest, the urgency in John's voice igniting a similar fire in me. This wasn’t just about Arthur—his presence put everyone at risk. We were faced with a man who had no conscience, no moral compass, just an insatiable need to control and exploit.

I could see the tension in John’s stance, the way his hands gripped the back of his chair as if holding on to something solid. He wasn’t the type to back down, and I couldn’t help but admire his unwavering commitment to justice—even if it was the kind that burned with reckless abandon. I had no doubt that we would all fight, but the road ahead was far from clear.

Hosea sighed deeply, his voice steady but laced with the weight of everything he knew was at stake. “John’s right to be worried. We’re not equipped to handle this kind of threat. We don’t have the resources or manpower to go toe-to-toe with someone like Dutch. We’re a small facility, and this isn’t something any of us are used to. But we’ll figure it out. I’ll be damned if that poor boy has to suffer any longer” His gaze shifted to me, a silent understanding passing between us. 

We both understood how much was on the line.

Sadie nodded, her expression softening but never losing its edge of professionalism. “I get it, Hosea. Believe me, I do. But sometimes, the best we can do is wait and watch, be prepared for when he shows up. I’m putting feelers out there—keeping an eye on the local networks, my contacts in the field. But Dutch is a ghost. He’s good at disappearing when he wants to. We can’t go running around in circles panicking until we have something concrete.”

I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “So you’re saying we just… wait? And pray he doesn’t come after Arthur?” My voice cracked slightly, but I didn’t care. “What happens if he does show up? We can’t just give up and let Dutch take him.”

Sadie’s eyes softened with something akin to sympathy, but her face remained hard with resolve. “You’re not wrong.” She paused, glancing at the others in the room, her eyes lingering on me for a moment longer. “What I can promise you is this—if Dutch comes for Arthur, if he makes a move, I’ll be here. We’ll all be here. You won’t be facing this alone.”

Hosea placed a hand on the table, leaning into it slightly, his voice firm. “We can’t risk making any rash decisions. Arthur's safety is our priority, we’ll keep him under wraps for now, and gather more information. As much as I hate waiting, it’s what we have to do. For his well being—and for ours.”

I nodded slowly, absorbing their words. I understood what they were trying to say. They were trying to protect Arthur in the only way they knew how. But there was still that gnawing feeling in my gut, the fear that Dutch might already be closer than we realized.

"Alright," I said, standing up from my seat. "But when the time comes, we act. No hesitation. We make sure that when Dutch shows up, we’re ready for him." The words felt strange in my mouth, but they were the truth. 

“I made a promise to Arthur that he would never endure that kind of suffering again. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure that promise is kept.”

Sadie looked at me for a long moment before nodding, her expression tight with conviction "Undertsood."

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

As the last of the visitors trickled out and the automatic doors slid shut, a familiar exhaustion settled deep in my bones. But it wasn’t the same kind of exhaustion that had weighed me down in recent days. This was different—earned through hard work, the kind that came with purpose. A full day of routine tasks, keeping my hands busy, my mind occupied. And for what felt like the first time in days, my thoughts weren’t consumed by Arthur.

I moved through the motions—wiping down counters, locking up equipment, double-checking protocols—before making my way to the break room. My locker door creaked open, and as I grabbed my things, I fished my phone from my pocket. My fingers hovered over the screen for only a moment before I typed in one word.

Captain.

The familiar text thread popped to the top of my messages, and without hesitation, I typed:

Charles, we need to talk.

I hit send, pulling on my jacket and slinging my bag over my shoulder. I already knew where he was—likely in his office, finishing up for the night. So I waited, taking my time as I walked. My phone buzzed in my hand.

Meet in the tunnel? ~CS

A quiet sigh left my lips as I read the message. The tunnel. Of course.

Easily one of the most breathtaking parts of the facility, the tunnel was a curved, glass-walled corridor where guests could walk beneath the water. The sea life surrounded them on all sides, illuminated by the soft glow of artificial reef structures designed to mimic the ocean floor. Stingrays glided like silent phantoms through the currents, schools of fish shimmered in the dim light, and for a moment, stepping inside felt like being transported to another world.

See you there.

I tucked my phone away and started down the hall, feeling the weight of the conversation ahead settling on my shoulders.

Charles stood with an easy sort of stillness, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes trained on the glass where a pair of clownfish darted in and out of a pink anemone. The soft glow of the tunnel lights cast a faint shimmer against the water, reflecting off the corals in a wash of muted color. At the sound of my approaching footsteps, he turned slightly, his face lighting up with a small, familiar smile before his gaze flickered back to the fish.

“Did you know female clownfish leave the nest after they mate and lay their eggs? The male stays behind to guard them until they hatch,” he mused, his voice carrying the weight of thought rather than idle conversation. His eyes never left the tiny creatures, but I could tell his mind was somewhere else. Drifting beyond the glass, beyond the tunnel, caught in some invisible current of contemplation. “Sometimes I wonder what the advantage is in her leaving. Surely they’d be better off as a pair, keeping the young safe together.”

I stepped up beside him, folding my arms as I watched the fish weave through the anemone’s swaying tendrils, completely immune to its stinging nematocyst defenses.

“Well,” I started, mirroring his thoughtful tone, “maybe she just wasn’t ready for it. Eitherway, clownfish can change their sex. So—I guess if he really wanted to, he could become female and go find a new mate. Start over. Do things better than his traitorous ex-partner.”

A short chuckle left Charles’ lips, but there was something wry about it. “Until something bigger comes along and makes a meal out of them both.”

I smirked, though my chest felt heavy. “Ah, the circle of life. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The words hung between us, lighthearted in tone but laced with something heavier, unspoken. Beneath the easy rhythm of our banter, something churned beneath the surface. Something neither of us were quite ready to say out loud.

We stood there in silence, the glow of the water casting shifting patterns across the floor, before I finally gave in to the question that had been gnawing at me all day.

“Charles, why’d you throw me into the flames like that during the meeting?”

His brow furrowed, caught off guard. “I—what? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t be like that, you know what I’m talking about.” I sighed and dropped onto one of the viewing benches, rubbing my temples. “I already hate public speaking, and no one told me I’d have to stand up there and explain myself. I mean…I’ve hardly wrapped my head around this, Charles! I thought we were just there to go over the basics, get everyone up to speed on the whole… situation.” I waved a hand vaguely through the air, but we both knew exactly what I meant.

Charles hesitated for a fraction of a second, then shrugged. “You were there when he was found, you were there when I removed the harpoon tip. If anyone’s qualified to speak on this, it’s you.” He paused, then added, “Besides, you seem to be getting along pretty well with him.”

It wasn’t just a passing observation or a simple truth—I knew him better than that. He made a point to say it, not just to me, but to the entire team.

I let out a scoff, shaking my head. “So that’s why you called me out? Because I’ve been trying to be a friend to him?”

Charles turned to face me fully now, his expression unreadable but sharp with something I couldn’t quite place. “I wanted to remind you that it’s dangerous. We still have no idea what that thing’s capable of.”

A slow, seething heat crept up my neck. “Thing?”

His jaw tensed. “You know what I meant.”

“Do I?” My voice was quiet, but there was a bite to it. A challenge.

He didn’t back down. “He’s been here less than two days, and you look at him like—”

“Like he’s a damn person, Charles,” I cut him off, standing now, anger pushing me to my feet. “Not a thing, not a monster, not something dangerous. What’s dangerous is the people who captured him and tortured him for his entire life.” My breath was coming too fast, but I couldn’t stop. “Arthur has known nothing but pain and loneliness. If it’s against policy to make our patients feel safe, then call Hosea and tell him to fire me.”

Charles exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. But beneath it—beneath the argument, beneath the fear and the worry—I saw it.

He meant well. And that was the most infuriating part.

“You think I don’t understand that?” Charles shot back, his voice tight with restraint. “You think I don’t see what’s been done to him? What he’s been through?” He took a step closer, his tone lowering, but no less intense. “I do. And that’s exactly why I’m worried.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.

“You’re not just some observer in all of this—you’re in deep, deeper than you even realize,” Charles said, his voice heavy with something between frustration and concern. “I know your heart is in the right place, but damn it, you can’t act like you’re the only one who cares.” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as though struggling to rein in emotions he wasn’t ready to share. “I’m not telling you what to do, but I need you to see the bigger picture. I know you feel something for him, but this—this is far bigger than that.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but his words hung in the air, leaving me frozen. The weight of his tone cut deeper than I expected, and for the first time in a while, I wasn’t sure what to say. I had been so caught up in my own emotions, my own frustration, that I hadn’t stopped to see his.

“W-what feelings?” I stammered, feeling like I was losing ground. The way he looked at me—the understanding, the depth—made me feel exposed. Those brown eyes, usually warm, now felt like they were peeling back layers I didn’t want to confront.

Charles sighed, almost tenderly, as though he’d known this would be difficult. “You think I don’t know your heart? Know that look?” His voice softened as he said my name, but the words were weighted with something older, more painful. “I know you. And whether you like it or not, I care about you more than that damn fish. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

The sincerity in his voice hit me harder than I expected, the raw emotion underlying his words pulling at something inside me. His care, his concern—they were clear, and I could no longer pretend they didn’t matter.

Gathering his things, Charles turned to leave, his footsteps echoing faintly in the tunnel. "Just promise me you’ll be cautious about this. And if anything, anything happens that frightens you, you come to me about it first. Okay?" His words lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken.

I nodded without thinking, not sure if I meant it or if I was just too exhausted to argue anymore. As the door to the tunnel closed behind him, I leaned back on the bench, my eyes drifting to the vast tank before me. The room felt suddenly colder, emptier, and I let out a slow breath, closing my eyes. 

The weight of everything—Charles’ warnings, my own confusion, Arthur’s presence—settled on my shoulders.

When I opened my eyes again, the room had darkened, a large shadow casting itself across the walls like the slow approach of a storm. Lifting my head, my breath caught in my throat as I saw him—Arthur—watching me just beyond the glass. 

The world came to a standstill as I took in the sight of him, an otherworldly presence that seemed to dominate the space. He hovered there, still and silent, his powerful form fully illuminated by the dying light of the setting sun. 

Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe him. 

His body glistened in the dimming glow, long hair rippling ever so slightly with the water’s motion. The vibrant colors of his tail were like nothing I had ever seen before—rich blues and purples that shimmered against the darker water, pulsing with life that gave him the appearance of a phantom rising from the depths. 

Arthur was the water, and the water was him. Like he was born to be exactly this, fierce and indescribable. Gills and fins delicately waving with each movement of the current, floating upright. He spanned almost the entire length of the glass, and seeing him like this I realized just how small and insignificant I was in comparison. 

He is the ocean. 

The golden orange light from the sun filtered through the water, casting an ethereal glow that made his form appear almost heavenly, like something from a legend. The intricate patterns of his scales caught the light, transforming him into a figure of pure elegance and power. 

The glass between us felt like a thin barrier between two worlds. One human and one far beyond my understanding.

My heart raced as I sat there, rooted to the spot. His deep blue eyes, so full of life and yet so distant, never left mine. They spoke of something ancient, something vast, and in that moment, it was as if the entire world had narrowed down to just him and me. 

His pull, my need, and everything unknown between us—pressed down on me like the ocean itself.

AN: Big shoutout to @photo1030 for giving me some devious ideas about Charles and the reader having a romantic history. I knew I wanted him to play a bigger role in this, but now I’m fully invested in him having some conflicted feelings about Arthur and the reader. Let me know what you guys think!

Oh! Also, I hope the egg-menses/double-dick thing isn’t too weird for some folks. It’s typical in a monster romance to have odd genitalia and means of reproducing. In my humble opinion, it’s what makes it so intriguing to read (and write!) As a biologist, I relate to the reader a lot, I too am morbidly fasciated by the limits of science.

We’ll see our sweet fish boy again in the next chapter, got some really sweet/hot scenes cooking 😋

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dubcon, fingering ( r!receiving ), forced infidelity, noise control, hair pulling, dom!kafka, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day twenty [ kafka + noise control ]

“Kafka,” shivering when you feel her body press against your back, pinning you to the bed, you whisper in warning, “he’s right there.” a subtle nod to the sleeping man on the other side of the bed, and you hear Kafka scoff.

“What’s the matter?” she whispers back, against the shell of your ear, before nipping at your lobe. “Worried he’s gonna wake up and find us like this?” you nod. you can already feel one of her hands slipping up under your oversized tee to cup your sex through your panties. she palms at you until you’re stifling a mewl, back arching into her abdomen, and nudging against her hand. “You don’t seem like you’re all that scared. You’re practically soaking yourself at the idea of getting caught, aren’t you?”

Kafka’s fingers hook into your panties and pull them to one side, all the while her lips work on the sweetest sectors of your throat, kissing and suckling until you feel hot and weak and you’re whining quietly.

“Listen to that little whimper of yours,” she teases, slipping her forefinger inside to the knuckle. your walls welcome her digit with excited fluttering, but your legs attempting to snap shut and push her out, “that feels good, doesn’t it? You like it?” clamping your own hand over your mouth, your wide eyes flicker to your snoozing boyfriend. but you nod, nonetheless, feeling her slender finger joined by another.

“Of course you do.” planting her parted lips on your cheek, you can feel the drag of her teeth, and the flickering of her tongue as she mutters, her eyes also on the man beside you. “This warm, wet pussy of yours is clenching my fingers so hard, you’re wishing it was my strap, aren’t you? A nice, hard dicking from the only one that can do it right, that’s what you want. This poor bastard could never give that pussy what she wants, he doesn’t have the stamina, the strength. You need to be fucked, turned inside out, and he can’t do it. But you know I can. You know I can break you in all the right ways. Go ahead and watch him, baby,” thrusting her digits into you at a steady pace, she does so with enough force to send a violent ripple through the mattress. each pump fills you with the entire length of her fingers, and is punctuated by a meek and muffled squeal into your palm. your eyes water; you’d been staring at the sleeping man for too long, unblinking and wide eyed, nervous that the motion would wake him.

Kafka’s free hand skirts upwards and dives into your tendrils, snatching a handful hard at the roots and forcing your head back, “If you could only see the pleasure on your face, baby girl. You absolutely love this, don’t you? I’m finger fucking you while your oblivious boyfriend sleeps in the same bed, and you’re eating it up— moaning and whining into your own palm, getting off on it like a filthy slut.”

she only smiles, breathlessly, when she changes the angle of her assault, pushing deep to curl her fingers and hook your g-spot. damn her for knowing every inch of your body. you tense up, pushing your own hand into your mouth harder to muffle the involuntary cry, and your free hand clasps over the other. “There it is,” Kafka purrs, pulling on your hair to keep your head angled towards her, “there’s the good spot.” she sits back, pinning your quivering thighs to the bed, and like a bitch in heat leashed by her grip on your scalp, you follow her movements, releasing your own mouth and pushing your upper half off the bed with your palms until you’re in a position similar to the cobra. “You’re shaking so much already, gonna cum so soon?”

if you hadn’t locked your elbows, they’d be quivering just as intensely as your thighs, “Kaf— Kafka!” you hiss, frantic. your orgasm is approaching quick, “I can’t— be quiet, you know that!”

out of the corner of your watering eyes, you see her grinning like mad, before she pushes you forward again, shoving your face into your pillow only inches from your boyfriend’s head. her palm is flat against the back of your head to keep you firmly in place. “Well then, sounds like you better muffle yourself with your pillow, because I’m not stopping.”

[imsogonesposts]

Flowers and Seashells and Hearts

|| ao3 || Finnick masterlist || requests are open!! || an: happy valentines day!! ||

summary: Finnick plans a Valentine's surprise for you. (wc: 1171)

Finnick remembers being told about an old holiday called Valentine’s Day when he was 15 years old. He remembers Mags telling him of a holiday her parents used to celebrate before the Hunger Games were ever created. A holiday celebrated in February where couples celebrate their love for each other with chocolates, flowers, and various other gifts. At the time, Finnick had never imagined being able to celebrate such a holiday. There were more important things to worry about, more unfavorable things to worry about. But as February neared and Finnick found a heart-shaped shell- onethat reminded him of you- on one of his early morning swims, he couldn’t help but remember the story Mags had told him years ago. He’d like to celebrate Valentine’s Day with you, he thought. It sounded sweet, and you deserved a holiday where he could dote on you even more and celebrate his love for you and yours for his. 

“When in February is the earliest that you���re free?” He asked over dinner later that day. Finnick, for the life of him, couldn’t remember what day Mags had told him Valentine’s Day landed on, and unfortunately, she couldn’t remember either. She could hardly remember ever telling him the story in the first place. So, he decided he’d go with the first day both of you happened to be free in February. He wanted to celebrate with you as soon as possible. 

“Um, I think…” you pause, glancing at the calendar, hanging a few feet away from the dining table, “probably the 14th? Why?” 

He simply shakes his head with a smile. “No reason,” he replies, “just planing a date is all. Keep it free, I wanna do something with you that day.”

“What do you wanna do?” You ask with a smile as he shakes his head. 

“It’s a surprise, my love,” he replies as he continues eating his food. 

***

February 14th had rolled around much faster than Finnick had anticipated. It felt like he blinked, and suddenly it went from him asking when you were free, to it actually being that date. He felt a little bad that he hadn’t been home all day on your shared unofficial Valentine’s Day, but he had to make sure he got everything right for your date. He spent most of the day setting things up at the beach, because he wanted everything to be perfect, you deserved perfect after all. 

Meet me at our spot at the beach at 7 pm, he had written on a letter for you to later find so you would know where to find him. “Our spot” had of course referred to the spot Finnick and you had had so many pivotal points in your relationship occur. It’s where you both had your first date, your first kiss, where he asked you to officially be his girlfriend, where heproposed to you years later. It was the spot you were both always drawn to when you went to the beach together. A rocky area near the water, far enough away from the District 4 market and the boats in the water that were fishing, but close enough that you could still faintly hear the chatter of your lovely town. It was perfect. 

As the sun began to set, you made your way to the beach, where Finnick had asked you to meet him. You weren’t sure what Finnick could possibly have up his sleeve. He had been acting more excited than usual about this date. More secretive as well. The most information he’d disclosed was that it was at the beach and that you should wear something relatively nice. The two of you had already gotten married the year prior, so it definitely wasn’t a proposal. You raked and raked your brain, but nothing would come up. Your anniversary was in June, so it wasn’t that. You first got together in December, so it couldn’t be about that either. Maybe he was feeling extra sweet? That was never unusual for him. 

As you neared your shared spot on the beach, you had to stop in your tracks as you took in your surroundings. “Finnick, what is all this?” You asked with a wide smile, eyes glancing around the setup he had created. 

An array of flowers and seashells created a heart on the sandy floor, in the middle being a blanket where dinner and candles lay atop it. A bouquet of your favorite flowers and a small plushie of a fish lay on the side. You finally looked up at him to see him smiling wide at you. He looked handsome, he always did, but something about the way he was smiling at you made your heartbeat quicken the tiniest bit.

“You’re here!” He exclaimed, walking over to give you a quick kiss before guiding you to sit.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked with a laugh as he shrugged, still smiling. “Finnick what’s all this for?”

He began serving the both of you your dinner as he explained the story he remembered. “It’s called Valentine’s Day,” he starts as he explains how the holiday was filled with flowers, and love, and chocolate. He was so sweet, you could melt. 

“Oh, speaking of chocolate,” he said, pulling out a few chocolate bars that had lay underneath the fish stuffed animal.“Here you go, baby.” He said with a smile, sliding the chocolate to your side before handing you the fish and bouquet of flowers. 

“You did all this for me?” You asked, unable to hide your smile. 

“Of course I did,” he easily replied. “You deserve it, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” you quietly say, a small frown on your face. 

He moved both hands to cup your face, looking into your eyes. He hated seeing your frown, and he definitely didn’t want to see you frown on the day that was meant to celebrate your shared love. He just couldn’t have that. 

“Well,” he starts, “there’s still next year. And the year after that and the year after that. I know how you feel about me anyways,” he says, thumbs lightly rubbing circles on your cheeks as he gives you a small kiss. 

“So, this will be a yearly thing, then?” You ask as he nods yes. 

“If you want to, of course.”

“Of course I want to,” you reply with a laugh, moving to hug him. One he happily reciprocates. “Are we going to do February 14th every year or are we gonna change up the day?”

“I’m fine with the 14th,” he replies, hand rubbing up and down your back as he continues to hug you, "something about it feels right." 

“February 14th it is,” you reply, moving away from the hug just enough to kiss him again. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he says when the kiss finally breaks, eyes looking over your face with a smile as he takes in your features. “I love you.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” you reply with a smile. “I love you too.”