#well when I had a fish tank it was at least

[whumpisgoodwhumpislife]

The device

Masterlist

This chapter is why I started this series. It hasn't left my mind since I've read this by @sowhumpshaped ! This writer has a very unique style, I absolutely love it

CW : lab whump, living battery whumpee, nonsexual nudity, needles, kinda medical whump.

First, they removed the tubes and IVs from his body. They had drawn little crosses everywhere one was supposed to be, and his arms were littered in black ink. Erik would've protested, ask what it was for if he could, but the thick plastic mask was still snuggly fitted over and inside his mouth and nose.

When they started removing the heavy metal straps tethering him to the medical table, he hoped he could try to make a run for it, but as soon as he tried to stand, his knees buckled under him and he collapsed. Erik's breathing started accelerating as he tried to push himself up. His efforts were pathetic; it was as if his muscles had turned to jelly. He was exhausted.

Two orderlies grabbed him under his arms and started dragging him away. He tried to struggle, but his body barely twitched in their grasp.

Erik was led through another sterile, white corridor, escorted by several men in white coats, and a few in fluorescent orange vests.

"Extraction device" they said. It couldn't mean anything good for him. They had managed to find a way to leech his energy out of his body, and to use it for their own purpose. And that process was agonizing, leaving him barely able to move.

They entered another room, bigger, with a higher ceiling. It was filled with various equipment, reminiscent more of the interior of a spaceship than a laboratory. And in the center, there was a tall, transparent cylinder that spanned the entire height of the room. And it was empty.

Erik whimpered through his mask, immediately understanding what it was for.

The orderlies dropped him next to it and he squirmed, desperately trying to crawl away. But they held him still, as the researchers began to insert needles, IVs, tubes in the places marked by the little crosses. Two others were attached to his mask, and as he breathed in, the air tasted bitter, like chemicals.

He was still completely undressed, vulnerable, but it was the least of his worries right now. The people in flashy orange jackets were working around the electrical consoles, to which he was now connected by a variety of cables. One of the scientists nodded, and the orderlies hoisted Erik to his feet, dragging him inside the translucent cylinder. The wall spun around, and closed on him without leaving a trace, sealing him inside of the tank. He tried to bang against the wall, but whatever it was made of, it was resistant.

Erik grabbed one of the IVs on his left arm and tried to rip it away, but it just burned. It was as if the needle was fused inside his skin.

His hands shaking from the strain, still recovering from his previous ordeal, he tried every tube, every cable, but they all held fast. His mask as well.

He pressed his hands against the glass. He could see the scientists working outside of his cylinder, in a flurry of activities. Then, a loud thudding noise echoed in the cramped space, making him wince and cover his ears.

And the grid at his feet started sputtering a thick yellowish liquid. The level rose quickly, from his feet to his knees, to his hips, to his chest. Erik was hyperventilating in the mask, banging feebly against the walls as the chemical solution slowly lifted him. It was denser than water, and when it reached the top of the tank, it left Erik suspended in the middle of it, squirming as a cloud of bubbles escaped his mask at regular intervals.

Helpless, like a fish in a tank.

Taglist : @sausages-things @jumpywhumpywriter @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thataquaticwhumper @alyscat

@whatamidoingherehelpme @fleur-a-whump @ratsupremacy88

[baelavelaryon]

doing so much fish research that I'm going cross eyed

[erythristicbones]

..........pics to come later tonight probably, but i may have bought Breadstick a friend

[stevieschrodinger]

Part one

Steve’s alone with fish guy, and it’s the perfect time to make his second attempt. For the first time Steve figures the guy must finally be relaxing, if only a tiny bit. The frozen peas were a massive hit, and maybe that’s helping. Being hungry like that must be really shitty, especially if it’s for a long time, like Steve suspects from the look of fish guy.

Maybe fish guy is starting to realize that this isn’t the labs under Starcourt any more. That Steve and his friends aren’t here to hurt fish guy.

Steve flicks another pea off into the water as he drinks his coffee; fish guy retrieves it in a flash, his eel like black tail easy to spot in the water, quickly coming back for more.

The kids keep calling him a merman - but he doesn't look like any cartoon or kids picture Steve's ever seen. His tail is too flat, for one, definitely more like an eel, plus there's no fins that Steve can see.

Steve offers him a handful of peas, carefully cupping them until fish guy has his hands cupped underneath, ready for them to be tipped in. They don’t touch, and Steve vaguely wonders if the guy will feel cold from the water. The skin of his fingers isn’t pruned like a regular persons would be, which makes sense since he’s a fish guy. Maybe he’ll feel clammy, or rubbery. Or scaly. Steve van very vaguely remember petting a stingray in a low tank at the aquarium once, surrounded by other kids. Might have been a field trip or something, but he can remember how surprised he was by the feeling of the mottled brown skin. Super rough, like sandpaper. Fish guy doesn’t look like he’ll feel like that either, though.

Fish guy eats his handful of peas and then looks back to Steve expectantly; or at least, that’s what he’d call it on a human person. It must be the same sort of thing though, right? The top half, at least, is built the same, right?

Steve’s down to his last handful of frozen peas; he’s already called Robin, she’s going to pick up a bunch of groceries of the green variety on her way over after her shift later. Also a few other bits, like carrots and bell peppers, to see if fish guy will try them.

Steve holds up a single pea between his thumb and pointer finger. Fish guy’s eyes track it from where he floats, a foot away from the ledge. Steve taps his chest, “Steve,” and then he points to fish guy.

Like last night, he comes a little closer, lifting out of the waster a little and then, cautiously points at Steve, he makes a noise that...kind of...sounds like ‘Steve’. His voice is raspy, and the word is kind of mangled, more of a sad ‘Steee,’ but near enough. It looks like he’s really trying, brow furrowed with concentration.

It’s not what Steve wanted, but Steve gives him the pea.

It’s overcast today, same as yesterday, and the day before. Blowy and cold. Steve doesn’t want to stay out here much longer, so he dumps the remaining peas into the water and then gets up and heads inside to wait for Robin.

Steve’s nearly at the door when he hears a splash and then a mournful, “Steeeeeeeeee.” and immediately regrets all of his life choices.

He sighs, and goes back to the pool, “yeah?”

Fish guy tilts his head, frowning, and then lifts his had out of the water, pointer finger and thumb a smidge apart...just like he’s holding an imaginary pea.

Well. Communication is definitely something they will be able to work on then. But Steve flaps the bag, showing the picture of the peas on the front, and the face that it’s very clearly empty, “all gone. Finished,” Steve makes a cutting motion in the air with the side of his hand, to indicate they’re done.

“Inied,” the fish guy manages cautiously.

“Yeah, finished.”

The fish guy watches him for a second, and then dips back down under the water, off too huddle in the bottom corner of the pool.

Steve wonders vaguely if he’s still hungry, but hopefully it won’t be that much longer before Robin gets here.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who really, genuinely likes celery.”

“Me neither, it’s like peppery water.”

“With hair in.”

Fish guy though, very clearly, likes the celery. He didn’t quibble over the cucumber either, that disappeared very quickly. He was cautious about the carrots, but with a little encouragement, and a lot of sniffing, he ate the bottom half of one, not seeming to like it so much at the thicker end.

Steve hands him an entire bell pepper, watches as fish guy takes a bite. He seems to like it, but then pulls a face, scraping desperately at the seeds on his tongue and spitting the whole mess out into the water. Steve can’t help laughing. Fish guy looks affronted. The look of genuine distaste and irritation on his face is very human and also hilariously funny.

“Oh Steve, I think you offended him,” Steve wipes the tears away to see that Robin is right, and fish guy has gone to huddle in the far corner of the pool, only his eyes peeking out. That’s got to suck, having no where to go. No where to hide; no privacy at all.

“This has got to suck for him; he’s stuck in an empty box,” Steve tries to imagine living his entire existence in a completely empty room; he can’t, not really.

“Well what can we even do with him? He seems to be freshwater, so the oceans are out. Even if we let him go in a lake, we don’t know what he understands about people, if he got caught…” she trails off. Steve doesn’t need any help imagining what could happen.

“I don’t know but...we need a plan...and he needs something to do.”

“What like, enrichment for his enclosure?”

It’s the first sunny day for a while. Steve had been getting resentful about it but a bit of warm sunshine is starting to make up for it already.

Steve looks uncertainly down at the bucket of dollar store toys he’s paid for. Doesn’t matter that the kids picked them all out, apparently Steve is still the money in this operation.

Plus gas; they had to travel further since the mall is now a fenced off ruin.

All the kids are on their knees at one end of the pool; all of them holding something. There’s a slinky (he can play with it along the edge), a Rubik’s cube (water proof, and we might be able to figure out if he can see color), a bucket, a plastic dog bowl (it’ll float, you can fill it with peas), a rubber duck, and a ball.

Fish guy, on the other hand, had retreated to the furthest corner he could, curled up into a ball, and stayed there.

Steve’s starting to suspect that the noise of the kids constant chatter and bickering is actually a bit too much for fish guy to handle, from the way he either hides or watches them wearily from the other end of the pool. If they move, he moves.

“Maybe if we spread out, then one of use will be close enough because he won’t have anywhere to go-”

“Absolutely not,” Steve tells Dustin, “that’s cruel, if he’s hiding it’s for a reason. Just let the stuff be and he will deal with it when he’s ready.”

He gets a little bit of whining from them, mostly Will and Dustin, if he’s honest, all the other kids seem to be really understanding.

The ball and the bucket they let go to float around in the water, and the kids soon loose interest and head off to cause trouble elsewhere.

Steve desperately wants to dip his feet in the pool, same as he would on any other day, but since there’s someone living in it, it feels kind of rude. Like he’d be knowingly walking mud into someone's house, or something.

Steve kneels at the same end of the pool the kids were at, he doesn’t want to startle fish guy by appearing right above him. If he comes to Steve or not should be his choice, but Steve has two bunches of celery and a dog food bowl filled to the brim with frozen peas, so he thinks his chances are pretty good right now.

He’s right, fish guy does come over, but his whole face is scrunched up and he misses the celery on the first try; it takes Steve an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure it out, even with the guy eating with his eyes pretty much closed.

It’s the first fully sunny day they’ve had, and the guy had been in a shitty artificially lit lab, and before that, presumably the Upside Down for his whole life.

It’s fucking bright out here.

And even as he takes his sunglasses off, Steve has no idea how to communicate this with fish guy.

Steve has the bowl of peas for leverage, but still. He shows them to fish guy, who, squinting, does come closer. And then Steve hands over the glasses. Fish guy, face all scrunched up, tilts his head, looking at them.

Steve takes them back, put them on, takes the off, and offers them again. Ever so carefully and slowly, fish guy takes the glasses. Steve knows fish guy is at least kind of smart; he’s confident he will figure this out. He’s proved correct pretty fast when fish guy holds them up so he can blink up through the lenses.

And then he...very carefully, almost comically carefully, slides them on.

He grins up at Steve, and Steve floats the dog bowl in the water, giving it a nudge.

Fish guy looks delighted.

Part Three

[sabohime]

♡ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

multi x fem!reader

♡ . eek my first post!! some simple headcannons for you guys! enjoy :) nothing explicit (for now 😈) but! there are references to dicksucking!

♡ . includes: law, sabo, sanji

LAW

Law is constantly on edge. It hurts seeing your captain so stressed all the time.

So, being the dutiful crewmate you are, you decide to…provide him with a little ‘relaxant’. It’s not your fault he’ll have to work for it…

“Y/n-ya, what are you-“ “It’s hot, Captain!”

Law blushes at that. You can barely see it through the Tang’s dim lighting and his tanned skin, but from the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches, you can tell your plan is working.

Why is he harping about your wardrobe? Well, your typical Heart Pirates boiler suit had been traded in for a tight tank and skimpy shorts. How old were these? With the way your thighs were pinched by the elastic of your shorts, and the way your breasts practically fell out of your top, Law was certain you had dug deep in your closet to fish these clothes out.

“Y/n-ya. Seriously,” his tattooed hand rests on your shoulder now, dangerously close to the thin strap of your tank top. “We have uniforms for a reason.”

“Are you really gonna make me change, Captain?” you pout. You watch his brow furrow, and you know you’ve got him now.

“I think I’ll have fun ripping this off of you, Y/n-ya,” he grunts, hot breath now in your ear. His hands wander down to your shorts, palming your ass and taking notice of your lack of panties. “Even more dress code violations? I might just have to punish you tonight, Y/n-ya.”

You gulp. Law says Room and suddenly you’re in his bedroom.

“Regretting your decision, Y/n-ya?”

SABO

Once again, Dragon’s given him far too much paperwork.

As his secretary, it’s your job to provide him with some repose from his workload.

So…What better to let him take another load out on you? Maybe you should snag a pillow from your desk chair next time…

“Chief, I brought you the tea you asked for. A splash of milk and extra sugar,” you say, repeating his order sweetly and perfectly from years of practice. When you cross the threshold to his office, you find your chief of staff with his vest off, cravat undone and on the table, and his shirt partly unbuttoned.

The sight of his scarred, muscular chest makes you gulp. It’s okay Y/n, you can do this, you assure yourself.

“Thank you, Y/n-chan. You’re so kind, helping me out,” Sabo says, his cheeks rosy and smile innocent. You think him the perfect caricature of a schoolboy.

“It’s nothing, chief. I am your secretary after all. It’s my job,” you grin, placing the tea on his desk in front of him. You make sure to lean over and give him an eyeful of cleavage, just in case he might be interested.

“Is it your job to tease me as well?”

You freeze. You didn’t actually think he’d take the bait. Shit.

“Don’t be shy now, Y/n-chan. I’ve already gotten a nice view of your tits. And your skirt could be pulled down a tad, I suppose. You’re hardly professional these days,” you listen, face hot, sweat beginning to run down your back. At least he wasn’t scolding you— that was evident in the fact he said ‘tits’, and the generally teasing lilt in his usually silky smooth voice. It’s gotten deeper because he’s so tired, and it’s starting to make you clench your thighs.

“I-uh, I’m sorry, chief. I- I figured…” you scramble, trying to think of some excuse to remedy this situation. “I figured you might want a, uh, distraction. Right! A distraction from work!”

“Oh really?” the blond grins, pushing his chair away from his desk and moving his hands to unbutton his trousers. “Dragon-san has been giving me so much paperwork. It’s the least you could do, right Y/n-chan?”

You watch in awe as he takes himself out of his boxers.

“Now, Y/n-chan…How much of a distraction can you be?”

SANJI

Sanji gets hard just from smelling women’s perfume. So seducing him is easier than…really anything.

So, one night you can’t sleep. And the chef in the kitchen preparing recipes seems like a wonderful target for your affections.

“Sanji-kun, what’re you making?”

Sanji jumps from his place stirring on the counter, surprised at the sound of your beautiful voice.

“Oh my! Has an angel descended down on me to try my humble cooking?” the man swirls around you with hearts in his eyes, eventually bending down on one knee to kiss your knuckles. “It’s nothing special, my dear Y/n-swan. Simply practicing recipes for fruit tarts.”

You cup his cheek. A trickle of blood comes down his nose, but he pulls away from your touch to quickly wipe it away.

“Sounds yummy, Sanji. Could I try one?”

“Of course, mellorine!” Sanji keens. You smile at how cute he is. The blond grabs a fruit tart, which happens to be your favorite fruit, and brings it over to you.

He sits it on a plate in front of you, waiting like a lapdog as he anticipates praise for his cooking. However you don’t move to pick up the tart.

“Y/n…swan?”

“Feed it to me, Sanji-kun?” you say seductively, leaning over the kitchen island so your breasts pop over your crossed arms. Immediately Sanji is staring, but you don’t scold him this time. This was your goal.

“Of- of course, anything for my Y/n-swan,” Sanji stutters. He brings the small tart to your lips, and as you reach the last bite, you grab his wrist.

You decide to be extra bold, and lick a stripe up his finger. Your mouth detaches with a pop, and Sanji looks like he might pass out.

“That was good, Sanji-kun. Do you have any other special treats for me?”

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie Munson x Reader (hurt/no comfort)

Summary: While visiting your friend from college, you meet her neighbor across the hall and begin a fling with him. But how long can these good times last?

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), handjob, oral (m! receiving), unprotected p in v, hurt/no comfort, cheating, mention of weight shaming (not towards Reader)

A/N: y'all asked for it and I have delivered. Sorry, there won't be a part 2 fix-it because I like to put the "hurt" in "hurt/no comfort."

--

Hawkins, Indiana didn’t have too much to offer. It was a tiny blip on a map that you could drive through and barely notice if you weren’t paying close attention. 

It also happened to be the hometown of your best friend from college. You and Nancy became fast friends after you both got lost on your first day at Emerson. It turned out that you were going to the same class, and the room number had been a misprint that led to a nonexistent room. 

Now, fresh on the heels of graduation, Nancy had secured a full-time position at the Hawkins Post and just moved into her own apartment. It gave you the perfect excuse to spend a few days crashing at her place like you’d never left the dorms. 

At least, that had been the original plan, until Nancy got a call about a biohazard leak from Hawkins Lab that had begun infiltrating an area affectionately dubbed “Lovers Lake,” which could be her first big story if she played her cards right. Why a miniscule town had a whole lab, you had no idea. What you did know was that you would be spending most of your time here by yourself, rather than with Nancy. 

Long days alone left you bored, occasionally working on the draft of your novel. While Nancy took to the structure of journalism, you preferred creative writing. She was the logician to your dreamer. Sometimes you loved that about her; other times, her straightforward line of thinking was the bane of your existence. 

Words swam on the page as you scanned each line, adding details and crossing out any superfluous information that added nothing to the plot. You pinched the bridge of your nose and massaged it, hoping to settle your vision enough to keep editing. 

Knock knock knock. 

“Wheeler, you in there?”

A man’s voice drifted from the other side of the door. Nancy had briefly mentioned knowing some of her neighbors, but you had never actually met them. 

“Wheeler?”

You padded over to the door. When you peered through the peephole, you saw the fish-eye version of a man. You first noticed his frizzy curls escaping the rubberband attempting to hold back his hair—well, that and his biceps, fully on display in his black tank top. 

Opening the door, you willed yourself to keep your composure.  

His brown eyes widened and his full lips turned upwards into a small smile. “You’re not Wheeler.”

“What gave it away?”

The man leaned one muscular arm against the doorframe. He smelled of tobacco and cologne. “Cute and sarcastic. A winning combination.” His smirk nearly brought you to your knees. “I ran out of paper towels and figured Wheeler probably keeps ‘em stockpiled. She has that ‘doomsday prepper’ energy.”

You laughed, crossing your arms as you let your eyes meet his. How did Nancy live in the same building as this guy and not constantly jump his bones? “I think she’d prefer to call it ‘emergency preparedness.’”

“Tomato, to-mah-to.” His gaze flicked over to the roll of paper towels Nancy kept by the sink. “May I?”

Nodding, you stepped aside to let him in. “I’m Eddie, by the way,” he said over his shoulder.

You introduced yourself with as much confidence as you could muster. “I’m supposed to be visiting Nancy for the week, but she’s been at work twenty-four seven.” 

Eddie’s ears pricked at the information. “I live across the hall in 6B if you ever need anything. Snacks, music recommendations, someone to keep you entertained since Wheeler selfishly ditched you.” His eyes twinkled at the joke, but there was a mischievous air in his tone. An insinuation of the type of entertainment he might provide. 

It wasn’t until the next day that you took Eddie up on his offer, knocking on his door three times. Your heart pounded in your chest the moment you heard him slide the chain lock off of its track, its beating surely still audible even as he cracked open the metal door. 

“Well, look who it is.” An unlit cigarette dangled between his lips and he’d pulled his curls back into a bun at the nape of his neck. “How can I be of service, sweetheart?”

“I was hoping we could hang out?” You winced at the inflection that made your statement into a question. 

Eddie cocked his head in contemplation. “Yeah?” He chuckled and shoved the cigarette back into its pack. “All right. Let’s go to yours then.”

His fingers brushed against the small of your back as you led him to Nancy’s apartment. Your pulse thrummed in your ears. Were you really doing this? Were you really inviting a stranger over to hang out?

This was a bad idea. This was such a bad idea—

“Does Wheeler have a guest room? Or does she make you crash on the couch?”

Shaking off your nerves, you summoned a smile. “No guest room, unfortunately.”

“Such a shame.” Eddie clicked his tongue. “Was hoping for a little privacy.” Head tilted to the side, his gaze devoured you whole. 

“I mean…” You wracked your brain for a solution. “We could just talk. Get to know each other.”

He exhaled, his breath laced with frustration. “Sweetheart, we only have a week. Six days now, actually, and then you go back home. ‘S not a lot of time.”

With that, Eddie stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss on your neck, letting his lips linger for a moment as he whispered, “is this okay?”

“Mhm.” Your hands readily found his waist, fingertips digging into the skin as you pulled him in closer. Hardness pressed against the fly of his jeans, and you could feel it even through the thick fabric. 

“Gotta admit, sweetheart,” Eddie tugged your shirt up over your head and tossed it aside haphazardly. “I was thinking about you when you knocked. Was about to take matters into my own hands.” 

He grinned at the double entendre, one hand snaking to your back to unhook your bra. “Goddamn.” He positioned his lips around one nipple, then the other, sucking until they were pert and sensitive. 

Desire pooled between your thighs and a whimper escaped you, your breath hitching as you tried to regain some semblance of control. No one had ever made you feel so wanted, so needed, with only a few kisses. 

“‘S a pretty noise,” Eddie mumbled. He unbuttoned your jeans with the dexterity of a musician, and you wondered if he played any instruments. 

You didn’t know a lot about him: his job, his hobbies, his favorite color. There was no time to consider that now, not while he had sat himself on the sofa and was already unbuckling his own belt. 

Eddie pulled his pants and boxers just low enough to free his erection, the head of his cock already slick with pre-cum. He leaned his head back, his hand reaching out to yours. 

Naively, you threaded your fingers with his, like it was some intimate gesture. Embarrassment flooded your bloodstream when Eddie laughed under his breath and wrapped your hand around his length. 

“There ya go, sweetheart.” He inhaled sharply as you moved your hand up and down. 

You worked him, swiping your thumb over the tip and feeling him shudder at your touch. Each reaction grew your confidence until you were straddling him, the thin fabric of your panties serving as the only barrier between the two of you. 

Eddie’s palm pressed against the back of your head, a wordless plea for you to use your mouth. You obliged, pulling his pants down to his ankles and trying not to outwardly wince when your knees dug into the thin carpet.

You relished the sound of each moan that you drew from him, knowing that you were making him feel that way. Your lips wrapped around the head, tongue swirling around it to further heighten his sensitivity. One hand cupped his balls, carefully kneading them in the same rhythm that your mouth took with his shaft. 

As if on instinct, he pushed your head farther down his shaft. You weren’t expecting it, tears pricking at your eyes as you coughed around him. 

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie let go of you so you could readjust. You were all too grateful that he didn’t turn the moment into a chance to pity you, saving you from further humiliation. 

Wordlessly, you went back to sucking him off. His thighs trembled; for a moment, you expected to feel him spilling onto your tongue. But Eddie only pulled back, his finger wiping away the saliva that dribbled from the corner of your mouth. 

“Ride me.” He patted his lap, eyes shining as you obeyed without hesitation. “Fuck, wish you were gonna be around longer. I could get used to this.”

Eddie watched you as you sank down, taking him inch by glorious inch until you were full of him. Your own gaze stayed fixed on his lips, so plush and begging to be kissed. 

You let lust guide you. Despite an initial shock, Eddie parted your lips with his tongue until your shuddering breath mixed with his. Had no one ever kissed him with such passion? Had no one ever shown him how wanted he was? Is that why he had seemed so surprised when you displayed that kind of intimacy?

There was no time to further ponder these notions, not when he gripped your ass and bucked his hips upward. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was so good, it was too easy for all of your thoughts to only focus on him. The way his mouth tasted of tobacco, the way he held you like he couldn’t bear to let you go, the way each thrust filled you deliciously…

“You close?”

Were you? Not really; it had been just a few minutes, but you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Men got insecure if they finished before their partner, especially someone new. 

So you just nodded, your eyes locking onto him in hopes he’d believe the lie. Eddie didn’t meet your look; he leaned forward and dug his teeth into your shoulder as he came.

“Oh, God. Fucking Christ–holy shit.”

Giddiness and a twinge of pride fluttered within you, almost as good as an orgasm itself. Maybe you’d get yours next time.

As though reading your mind, Eddie tucked his forefinger under your chin and his thumb atop it. “We should do this again sometime.”

 And so you did. Every day that week while Nancy was at work, Eddie came over to her apartment. The couch became your sex spot, so much that you joked about Eddie’s ass leaving an imprint in the fabric. 

“Maybe we could go to your place?” You suggested on Thursday when Eddie practically mauled you the moment he stepped through the doorway.

He just shook his head. “Nah. I wouldn’t want you to see all of my shit, sweetheart.”

You didn’t even want to imagine the bachelor pad that you might find across the hall, empty pizza boxes cluttering the trash can, beer bottles strewn everywhere, ashtrays full of cigarette butts. 

You did find out a little more about Eddie: He worked nights at the plant, which was why he was home during the day. He played guitar and sang lead vocals in his band, Corroded Coffin. And once you moved his hand down to your clit, he could definitely make you come.

That Friday, before Eddie pulled out, he ran his thumb along your lower lip.

“Wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow morning,” he murmured. “If you were sticking around, I might have had to ask you on a date.”

It was almost enough. The thought of being a real couple, someday even making love instead of simply having sex, brought a smile to your face. Maybe you could make these visits to Nancy more often than you’d originally anticipated.

You decided it must be fate when rain poured down in sheets and lightning zigzagged across the sky, delaying your flight for twelve hours. The cab driver crawled at a snail’s pace as he drove you back to Nancy’s, and you kept reminding yourself that he was doing it for your safety. 

Eddie would be so excited to have another day with you. Another afternoon to spend together, to draw pleasure from one another…possibly even discuss the potential of a long-distance relationship.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

His name echoed with each step you took up the stairwell. You would just knock on his door, fling yourself into his arms, and–

“Hey, babe. Looks like you made it back just in time.”

Eddie. 

Your stomach was a leaden weight when you reached the sixth floor and saw Eddie taking a suitcase from a blonde woman and kissing her until her baby pink lipstick smudged on his mouth. And if that wasn’t enough, there was a thin gold band on his ring finger that hadn’t been there the whole week.

“I would’ve walked if it meant getting home,” the woman said softly. “My mom is still awful, by the way. She kept asking if I was pregnant because, and I quote, ‘you look like you’ve been gaining weight, Chrissy.’”

There was no hiding the smirk on Eddie’s face. “We could make it happen, if you want.”

Chrissy swatted at him and walked into the apartment, and then it was just you and Eddie.

“You’re married.”

You barely recognized your own voice, thick with tears that you were willing back until you were alone. 

Surprise flashed across his face for only a second before he composed himself. He looked right through you, mumbling sorry under his breath as he tugged his wife’s–his wife’s–luggage over the threshold and disappeared to be with her.

--

[alwaysshallow]

— gorgeous, part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You're a vet - and you wouldn't ever think that a big guy with a skull face, kitten on his hands, would be in your clinic. (2,1k)

AO3 version

A/N: I have no self-respect; Poland won in volleyball, SO. your insane man and vet lady is here <3

next part

The first time you see him? It is a wild one.

You didn't really know how to react when your assistant, Bernie, stormed into your office, telling you that some "big guy with a skull mask" had a kitten that needed an examination. I mean, you were a vet, of course, and you ran your clinic to the 11 P.M. sometimes, but... the skull mask part?

First, you thought she was joking or trying to prank you, like in the past, when she told you that a guy came here with a head of a fish tank came to your clinic. When you thought about this later, it was really dumb that you believed that, but the emotions were too high before; you almost slipped on the floor when you were storming out of your office, to see if:

a) he actually had a fish tank,

b) if he had some fish in it.

The skull mask wasn't a joke, though; Bernie also looked like she saw a ghost or something, and was basically hidden after your figure when you went to the corridor, where patients should wait until it's their turn. Usually there weren't many people, only emergency ones, which happened rarely enough. You usually closed after 7, but today you decided to say a bit... longer. 4 hours longer, but who count that, right? There was no one except indeed a big, huge guy in a skull mask and military uniform; at least you thought it looked like a military uniform, your friend's best friend, Johnny, had one like that. You probably wouldn't even speak to him if he hadn't had in his arms a cat that was meowing sadly, like something hurt him – or, her. You didn't know what it was yet. Guy was scary as hell, and if he wanted to, he probably would've knock you out in just one move, but you walked closer to him – what he was gonna do, hit you with his cat in his hands?

"What happened?" that's the first thing you asked, as you approached the man; and for the first time, your gazes crossed.

His, unreadable, brown, piercing even. You couldn't even get a single thought from them, like it was behind some kind of shield, and it confused you, but interested you in the same time enough to know that this interaction will be seated in your mind for some time right now.

You always liked the mysteries, and he seemed like one.

"I don't know." he simply said, standing; and you could see how much bigger he was; not only in height, but in body, muscles. It was like a doll standing to a WWE fighter, as you watched those silly shows after your work at night. "Found that kitten near a dumpster. Seems like it's hurting, so..." he shrugged.

"Aren't you a talker" you murmured, your head up high, to look at him. "Come on in."

He said nothing; simply followed you, with that kitty on his big hands.

You didn't know his name even, and you were more than willing to help him, or more – to help this cat live without any pain because your heart was aching how pained and scared it was.

As well as your assistant, if you were talking about "being scared" part; she kept glancing at that big man, who put the animal on the special table (as you asked him to). It probably would be you in the past, the scared and with some kind of reserve but now, you were more than amazed with his gentleness to care about things like skull mask or the fact that he would crush you with his finger.

Trying to be as gentle as possible, you started examination; it was a certain routine if it was about strays, and this particular one seemed to be abandoned not so long ago.

Probably nothing was breaking your heart more than this; throwing animals to street instead of trying to get them a new home. You saw too much.

"I'll have to fill a report for animal shelter" you started after a few minutes, as you were trying to localize the cause of pain; it was probably a broken bone, but cat was pretty beaten up too. "And I have to know where it was exactly, if you know the streets around here. Maybe there's more kittens like this."

"Animal shelter?" he asked, and you could just feel how his brown eyes are piercing through your green scrubs.

Intimidating, to say the least, because in addition with his low, gravelly voice, it was something alluring, like you couldn't be indifferent about it. Hell, you didn't even knew the guy, he could be potential axe murderer that stopped in your clinic because he was sad about the cat.

"Yes, I can't take him. Someone has to." you explained.

"Who said I won't?"

As you raised your eyebrow, you looked back at him, in a little shock – positive one, though. Most of the people that were bringing strays weren't eager about giving them home, for multiple reasons, and you didn't judge. It was a good thing that they were bringing them here, but this man...

"So, you will?"

"Mhm."

You smiled under your nose, stroking the little kitten, as you waited for her to calm down, before taking her to an x-ray. Her new owner wasn't really talkative, but the most important thing was that he cared enough to not only bring her here, but to take her home.

It was easy to gain your trust, considering that the skull mask that he had right now wasn't so scary anymore.

"I'm gonna take her to an x-ray. Wait up here, okay?"

Again, no response, just a simple nod.

Was it thing about you two being strangers? He could act reversed only because of this, or he was maybe tired and didn't wanted to talk. Yet, you rolled your eyes to yourself while you were taking an x-ray in a special room.

Weird. Weird, because as the bubbly and talkative person you were here, always talking with owners of animals that were coming to you (or in some cases you were out in a farm or something), you couldn't do that here. I mean, right, he answered your questions, but it was... automatic.

Not leaving a small pole to discussion, and it was irritating at some point, because you wanted to tell him at least half of stories about strays and how it was heartbreaking to find them a proper, loving home. And how you were actually curious if he liked animals before, if he had any.

And yet you were, not able to talk to him in any way that would untie his tongue. If you weren't such a curious woman, you wouldn't give a single fuck, and you would only do your job, but... now, you were more than eager to have a proper conversation with that man.

At least a few words more.

"She broke her leg." you explained after an x-ray, to show him under the special light what were you talking about, when the results came in.

Usually, it wasn't so quick, but it was an emergency.

"It's not as bad as it seems to be, your cat will need a splint and a bandage."

He didn't say anything; just nodded, fucking again, still staring at orange cat that was lying on the table, with your assistant cooing to the animal.

You expected some questions, though. Anything. "Questions?" "Not really" he said, glancing at you.

"It will take a while. You can sit if you want" you pointed at the chair in the corner. "I can stand."

So if he wanted to stand, he will stand, end of story for you – so, naturally, you just started to do your job with the kitty. It was a stray, obviously, so it wasn't an easy job with her writhing under your hands, but you managed, somehow.

"Do you want to register me as her vet?" you looked at him again.

Maybe it could finally be a proper subject of your conversation – not many people thought about that when they were taking under their wings a stray, so you had to offer. Especially when that kitty was just too cute not to ask.

"Will it be different than visiting you from time to time?" he asked, his arms crossing on his chest.

"I mean, yeah. I'm under the phone, basically 24/7, if you have questions, you call me. Vaccines, medicines, everything is under your hand. And since the little one knows me..." you trailed off, focusing more on that construction you worked on.

It seemed almost done.

"Right, we can do that, then" he muttered, coming a little closer to the table, to look at his cat. "I assume you need something? Contacts, I mean."

You chuckled, amused. "Yeah, pretty much. Your phone number, your name, adress."

He frowned at that last mention and sighed, glancing over you again, like he was judging something before he actually will answer you.

Hell, what was that in him?

"Is adress necessary?"

"Not really, no."

You both went silent after this; as you finished, you sat to your computer to add another patient to your folder, where you kept everything in check. Meanwhile, Bernie was still occupied with the cat that was too sleepy to even respond, but the meds were kicking in, so it wasn't a surprise.

Rather, it was good. She needed some kind of rest.

"Name?" you looked at him.

"Simon Harris."

It felt like a lie, what he was telling you – especially his last name, but you didn't say anything about it.

"You have an idea for your cat's name? Or not yet?" you smiled softly.

"Not yet, no. And as for phone number..." he started searching for his phone in his cargo pants.

Took him a while, to go through the pockets, but when he finally managed to give it to you, you could finally save everything – the cat's name was just missing, but he needed to think about it.

You could think of multiple stories of people that came back to your clinic or called you to change the name in your documents, because they wanted something different. Mostly it was because the previous one wasn't a "good fit", but some were... funny ones, or weird enough that you didn't even bother to ask why.

Sometimes your curiosity got the best of you, especially when you asked why does he want his cat to be named "Pussy"; you regretted asking almost immediately, when he sat in the chair right in front of you. He talked for almost twenty minutes of his girlfriend and how he wanted to "give" her the cat with a name like that because it was funny enough.

And because of other things that you'd like to forget.

"Addison Frost. I run this clinic" you said, when he was saving your number in his phone. You could swear that he rolled his eyes, but it wasn't so clear as he wore that damn mask. What it was for anyway?

You wanted to see his face, badly.

"That much I figured" he muttered, his phone going to pocket of his cargo pants right now; he looked back at his cat, and at you again. "Can I buy something for her here? Or... I should go to the store?"

Hell, it was his probably longest sentence to you that day; and that made you smile a bit, when you reached out to the place you kept starter kits for kittens that needed to be taken care of more than the regular ones; you made a couple of them, and that was one of the last ones.

"No need to pay me for this" you said quickly, as he reached for his wallet. "It's... something that I give, just that" you muttered. "You can borrow that transporter too, until you won't buy your own. She needs to rest for the most of the time, and as she's a stray, she'll probably want to wander around your place."

He nodded, deep in thought, as you helped him with putting his cat into this; he was ready to leave, but before that, he dropped 90$ at your desk, leaving without any further explanation. "Hey! That's way too much, I can't take something like that" you left after him, approaching him as he was already putting the transporter into his Jeep. "It's just a simple help, not an operation, or..."

"You helped her" he cut you off, looking straight into your eyes "and that's enough. If that's too much, don't charge me for another visit or so. I won't take it back." he said, getting into his car; still looking at you, he nodded slightly. "Thank you. And, goodnight."

And with that, Simon Harris left you with many thoughts about that evening.

[the-original-skipps]

|| Relationship Headcanons #2 || Poly!Sakura x Reader x Poly!Suo || Wind Breaker ||

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

PLAY!

due to popular demand folks we are back again for part 2 I can literally go on and on about them HELP

PART 1

: fluff. polyamorous relationship. established relationship

❥ Let’s start this off with how they all got together in the first place. I reckon it’s something like where you and Suo were already together. Ever since Sakura joined the group he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You’re so kind and beautiful. Just brushing past you has his heart racing. However, when he found out you were with Suo he was definitely down in the dumps but that didn’t stop him from continuing to like you-no matter how much he tries to snuff it out.

❥ Suo from the first moment could tell that Sakura likes you. It’s natural, how could anyone not like someone like you? He didn’t say anything about it wanting to observe how it’ll turn out. Until he notices your eyes now linger a little longer on Sakura. He understands your feelings because he feels it too. So Suo decides to pull all three of you for a discussion, long story short you’re all happily together now.

❥ Since you’re all together, you all call each other by your first names. Sakura had a difficult time as he already has a hard time just calling you and Suo by your last names. Suo likes to tease as Sakura gets beet red trying to say your first name. Sakura is really not used to anyone calling him by his first name so every time you and Suo say his name, he freezes in shock.

❥ Sakura is inexperienced in a lot of things it’s up to you and Suo to show him the wonders of the world. Dates happen quite often, bringing Sakura to places he’s never been to before such as the aquarium or the amusement park.

❥ It’s so adorable how Sakura’s eyes light up as he sees all the fishes, you can’t help but coo at him. Pulling him along to look at the different tanks, all the meanwhile Sakura is flushed red. Suo trails behind you both with a gentle smile on his face, secretly snapping pictures of you two. Who knows maybe he’ll capture an ugly picture of Sakura to use as blackmail.

Suo: Oh look, Haruka-kun! That penguin looks like you!

Sakura: YOU WANNA TAKE THIS OUTSIDー!

❥ Speaking of amusement park dates, Sakura feels his soul his leaving his body every time he rides another scary looking attraction. He swears he’s fine but you and Suo both know otherwise. Suo on the other hand, is as cool as a cucumber with a smile on his face as you and Sakura grip onto him screaming your lungs out.

❥ You begged Sakura and Suo to wear the ear head bands with you. Sakura put up quite the struggle saying it looks lame but eventually your puppy dog eyes won him over. Of course you all have matching ears-Suo happily paid for them because he’s a rich boy like that who likes to spoil. The picture you all took in front of the castle is your phone’s wallpaper.

❥ Suo likes to invite both you and Sakura over for lunch or dinner. Suo is alone most of the time so it’s nice to have some company over at his house. His cooking is magnificent, he has you and Sakura asking for seconds. The hard part is forcing him to eat as well. You were almost begging on your knees for Suo to take at least one bite.

❥ Another hobby you all like to do together is play video games. A fight almost broke out because of how many times Suo beat Sakura at a game. Suo swears he’s going easy on Sakura which pisses him off a lot more. Despite the many times he loses he always asks for a rematch. You have to hold Sakura down before he tackles Suo.

❥ You always like to give these boys hello and goodbye hugs despite seeing each other almost everyday. Suo gladly accepts your hugs, hugging you back-burying his face in your hair. While Sakura malfunctions like a robot whenever you wrap your arms around him-then again just the slightest touch from you has him sweating.

❥ You once tried not giving them goodbye hugs and it did not go well. Suo was immediately sulking, complaining how you don’t love him anymore he’s just wants to tease you. Sakura will give you the silent treatment, because he’s too embarrassed to voice out his thoughts. He really likes your hugs no matter how much he complains about it. Please give these poor boys  their huggy wuggies. 

lemme know if part 3 is needed hehe

[gilverrwrites]

The Best You Ever Had

Jason Todd/Reader, 1.7K

A/N: Welp, as promised here’s that self-serving, mildly fucked up Jason Todd/Reader scenario I mentioned earlier. I’m working on I don’t fall, I fly chapter two I swear, but I had to get this unhinged Jason idea out of my head if I’m gonna concentrate. I don’t remember the exact details of the plotline I’m branching off of here 100% so if it’s inaccurate sue me. Warnings: Darker portrayal of Jason. Unhealthy relationship to slightly less unhealthy relationship, non-graphic mentions of death, grief, dub-con, manipulation, abuse of authority kinda, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, swearing, size difference, hair pulling.

Right so, remember when Jason went balls to the wall on absoloutely fucking ruining Penguins’ life after finding out he was responsible for the death of his birth father?

Okay, now imagine you’re working at The Iceberg at the time, as a waitress, a card dealer, dancer, whatever you fancy, it’s mainly just a cover for the fact that you’re actually Ozwald’s sugar baby.

You’re practically attached to his hip. Sure, he can be a bit much at times, a bit mean, but he’s real sweet on you. There isn’t a thing in this world he wouldn’t do for you, no clothes or gadgets too expensive, no jewels too well-guarded, 'cause you’re his favourite gal. At least you were until you watched Red Hood shoot him in the head on live TV.

Ozzie had paid your rent, your bills, everything, he’d showered you with gifts, but he’d never dealt you actual cash. Without his bank account to fund your checks, you have nothing, not unless you sell off your material possessions. So, not only are you grieving, but you’re forced to pick up as many extra shifts as you can in order to afford to keep up your lifestyle.

Being at The Lounge only reminds you of him, which makes your sorrows worse. You were never bad at the cover job, in fact, it’s how you got your foot in the door. But your emotions are affecting your performance, and when your new boss, Jason Todd, calls you into his office for a performance review, you’re pretty much resigned to the fact that you’re about to be fired.

However, Mr Todd is surprisingly chill. Understanding even. He doesn’t grill you; he just points out that your performance as of late does not match up with Cobblepots files and asks why? What can we do to fix it?

You feel comfortable explaining that you and his predecessor were close, and so his sudden death has hit you hard. You need time to mourn but can’t afford the time off.

When a tear rolls down your cheek you start to feel self conscious until he rounds the desk, crouching in front of you and presenting you with a tissue. He offers you the weekend off, paid, and promises to look into amending the shoddy bereavement policy Oz had enforced. But for now, commiserating may help, and he’s happy to listen, to be a shoulder to cry on.

So, you take the tissue, dabbing up all the tears that fall as you tell him about your arrangement. How Oz had done so much for you, got you out of a pit, how no matter what your friends and family thought, Ozzie really did have your best interests at heart, you swear. Mr Todd nods along, offering a polite laugh when you tell him a funny story, or pulling faces when you recall some of Oz’s less-than-savoury moments. His disapproval makes you feel validated in your distaste for some of the seedier things you’d let Oz get away with because he loved you.

After a while, you move from the desk to the conversation pit which sits beside a floor to ceiling fish tank. You can’t help commending him for keeping on top of looking after the fish and their habitat, it’s a lot of work. He tells you it’s one of his favourite things in the whole building and you agree, recalling how you used to spend hours watching the fish go about their existence when Ozzie would call for you only to spend the evening ignoring you whilst he dealt with 'business'. Jason says that you’re more than welcome to come see the fishes any time you like.

He's so much kinder than you’d expected. Which is why you don’t move when you feel his hand on your back, drawing you closer with strong arms until the warmth of his breath brushes your neck. It’s been weeks since you’d gotten this close with anyone. You hadn’t realised how much you’d craved the intimacy until it was handed to you.

And shit, he smells good too. Looking into his undeniably handsome face you’re struck with guilt for having enjoyed the company, the touch of another man and can’t help the second? third? who knows, wave of tears.

The tissue he’s given you is too sodden to do anything, so he reaches up with his long, surprisingly coarse fingers to wipe up your tears, and you let him.

Your weeping soon starts to ebb after that, but the few droplets that fall regardless are dried by his lips as he boldly presses kisses to your cheeks, and again, you let him.

“You shouldn’t waste your tears on that asshole.” The way he stares into your eyes as he speaks, it almost feels like he’s daring you to challenge him. “You’ll be better off without him.”

Out of respect for Oz, or maybe to defend yourself you bite back at him. “He’s not- he wasn’t an asshole! Not to me.” But you both know it’s a lie.

Before either of you say something you’ll regret, you decide to do something you’ll regret instead. In sync, you both crash your lips together, and Jason all but forces you onto your back with his body weight, his tongue pushing between your lips as his hands work at your uniform.

He’s nothing like Oz. His hands are strong and deft, free of perspiration as they pop your buttons with precision and knead at your newly exposed skin. His mouth, while steeped with a hint of beer, tastes clean. He looks at you with a reverence you’d never experienced before as he draws back to look you in the eye.

“Let me treat you the way you deserve, the way a real man should.” He begs, and when you nod, he practically starts tearing at his clothes. You work on his belt while he pulls his shirt and waistcoat over his head, too impatient to bother with his own buttons.

Your eyes bulge, heart plummeting to your stomach when he pulls down his boxers, exposing a dauntingly large erection.

“Bet you’ve not seen something this big in a long time.” He suggests with a smirk.

“No, I’ve never seen anything that big.” You offer, shuddering when he teases the tips between your slit, grazing your clit. “I don’t think I can take something like that.”

“You will.” His confidence goes straight to your already hungry centre. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it easy on you.”

You gasp when you feel friction at your entrance, and Jason chuckles into the crook of your neck, gently fussing in your ear as he slips a single finger inside you. True to his word, Jason makes the whole thing (mostly) painless and effortless, working his fingers into you one at a time, scissoring his digits and massaging your sensitive clit until you're stretched out and cumming all over his palm, staining the sofa beneath you. Purring to you all the while about how tight and plush your pussy is, how fucking good his cock is gonna make you feel, how he can’t wait to make you forget all about Cobblepot by making you gush all over his dick again and again.

When you’re partly lucid again, coming down from your first orgasm Jason lifts you with ease. He sits back against the couch, settling between your legs so that you’re straddling him. Guiding you onto his cock, thrusting from below, drawing a sinful cry from you as he fills you in one quick movement. It wasn’t unbearable, in fact, you’re a little flustered by the ease with which your pussy sucked him up, but your walls still throb from the final stretch of him buried in the depth at which his impossibly long fingers hadn’t been able to reach.   

His hands grip and caress and pinch every part of you, soaking in every inch as you ride him out, grinding your hips against his, using his body to chase your second release. His lips latch along your torso, sucking and biting his mark into your skin. This time, once you've successfully fucked yourself to climax on his dick, he doesn’t wait for you to come back down. Flipping you over and pushing you forward, he puts you on your hands and knees, presented for him on the coffee table so he can pound into you from behind.

Once he’s coaxed another orgasm out of you there, he carries you to his desk. He fucks you over and over. Revelling in every heated orgasm he rips from you, eating up your sob. He takes you on every surface. The floor, the walls, the window. He even presses you face first against the fishtank, making you watch your reflection in its mirrored back, and you are a pornographic sight to behold; lips dark and swollen from his kisses, hair tangled in his fist, tits pressed against the glass as he pistons in and out of your twitchingly overstimulated, cunt. Every thrust is slick, punctuated by the wet slap of your hips coming together. By this point, Jason’s unending strength is the only thing keeping you upright.

“That bird creep ever fuck you this good, baby?” He grunts into your ear, dark eyes glaring at you through the glass. From this angle you can see how his body practically engulfs yours; the reflection showcasing how his massive palms seem herculean when pinning you. All night he’d been throwing you around, bending and posing you to his will like a doll in his sturdy arms. Something Oz could never do.  

“No, god no Jason!” You whine. Drool spills from your lips as you try to speak. It catches on the glass, smearing back on your face but you’re too utterly fucked, too cock drunk to be embarrassed. “Nobody… never been… fucked like…”

When you don’t finish your sentence Jason laughs, it almost sounds cruel and sends a shockwave to the clit you long thought had been abused to numbness. “Am I the best fuck you ever had?”

“Yes! Yesyesyesyes.” You chant. Completely oblivious to the fact that your sugar daddy, Oswald Cobblepot is not dead. He’s very much alive, and very much not well as he watches Jason Todd fuck the brains out of his best gal from his prison on the other side of the one-way mirror. 

[byfulcrums]

Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man

Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him

Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other

Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened

The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them

The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao

Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates

They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly

Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else

When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much

(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)

Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest” it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are

We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all

Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other

The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)

Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before

And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else

[dangermousie]

Because I've seen so many people comment to the effect of "how come if he loves her, he never bothered to learn sign language?" etc and I want to talk about it.

But since it involves the novel, it's behind read more as spoilery.

So yeah, in the novel he does not know sign language. (Who knows if they keep that in the drama.)

But the thing is - I think a lot of wtf reaction from people is because they operate from "but how would he not bother if he wants to woo her/be with her/or just even take care of her well" standpoint.

But that's the thing. The situation is not "he loves her and wants to have a true marriage with her, he just does not know how to woo her or is worried she will only go along because of her mom" or even "he would love to be nicer but he has to be mean/standoffish etc for her protection or to take care of her."

Sae Eon is FUCKED UP. Like FUCKED UP FUCKED UP. He's not really a person, but a whole bunch of traumas in a fancy suit. There is a reason that at the end of the novel he asks her to give him a name because he's literally never had one, or when he tells her that the real him is someone who's always hated all of humanity. The very end is his diffusing a hostage situation on the way to their wedding and he saves a little kid not because he's innately nice but because he knows she'd like it. It's very much a "she's got a leash on a nuclear bomb in human shape" set up in the novel. He will never innately care for other people but she does so he just mirrors that because he cares for her.

So he didn't learn sign language because he had no intention of ever having a relationship with her of any kind - not a marriage, not a friendship, not even any meaningful interaction. Marrying her to save her from that dude (and if I remember correctly in the novel there wasn't even a bad dude for her to be married to) and then putting her in his house to occasionally look at and not touch, like a fancy art piece (or as he put it, a fish tank) to calm all the devils in his head was literally the most interaction he could manage.

In a lot of ways, his situation is vvvv similar to that of LJK in Flower of Evil - down to fake parents with an OG serial killer son who he knows would murder him for a corn chip and having to live with a fake identity in a monster lair - but instead of choosing to become the bestest husband ever to compensate, he just withdrew. It's made clear the moment he was old enough and had enough power, he fled all the way to the other side of the world as a war correspondent into some fictional hellhole of a country because that felt better to him than home. He and HJ were never friends even as kids because he had no bandwidth for that at all - she was his little bit of piece in childhood but even with that he couldn't really have proper human interactions with her (the thing with him giving her a plate in the drama is a drama thing; significantly in the novel, she is the one who gives him her food because she notices his eating issues and feels bad and coaxes him to eat. This is not a kid who has any mental or emotional room to spare for anyone else.)

So basically tl;dr - he didn't learn because he is operating at about 0.2% of normal emotional capacity and ability to interact. He's a bastard and a cold jerk and it's not an act to save her or because he's just awkward. It's because he's very very very very damaged.

Now, a novel is a novel and a drama is a drama so who knows how much of it will be kept. They already softened him up from the novel as is. But at least in the novel, it totally made sense...

[slytherinshua]

MRS. SCROOGE VS KIM DONGHYUN

genre. comfort. warnings. implied that reader has depression and depressive thoughts throughout the fic. reader uses humour to make their depression seem lighthearted. not proofread. pairing. leehan x reader. wc. 762. request. requested by anon for #39: "don't listen to the voices in your head, listen to mine." a/n. i love leehan :( the way hes the best in bonedo at emotions and like the therapist ugh i love him so much!!! also this was very inspired by personal experience. net. @onedoornet

Donghyun knew something was up with you when he found you sitting in front of the fish tank instead of in your room. As the co-parent of the fishies, of course it was normal for you to check up on them. But zoning out in front of them? That was a Donghyun thing.

“What’s up?” He asked, pulling up a chair beside you, mirroring the position you were sitting in with your arms wrapped around your knees.

“The sky.” You mumbled, giving your boyfriend a mere glance before your gaze moved back to the shrimp at the bottom of the tank.

Donghyun sighed, “I know you’ve been stressed out lately. I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it.” He told you, also looking at the tank, knowing eye contact might have the opposite effect of the one he wanted.

You huffed, “The voices, Donghyun.”

Donghyun raised an eyebrow, “The voices?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and turned to him, “The ones that tell me I’m useless and that nobody cares about me. You know the ones— annoying little devils, but they’re so convincing.” 

Donghyun hummed in understanding, a sad smile on his face. He adored you and the way you described things, even the little depression dementors that tormented you. You were so full of life despite how much you suffered. From the moment he first saw you until now, you amazed Kim Donghyun.

“Don’t listen to that voice inside your head, listen to mine.” He said, reaching for your hand. You met his eyes skeptically, not sure what your boyfriend had up his sleeve. But you were sure it was something. If there was one thing you were sure of, it was that Donghyun never failed to surprise you. He was always unexpected.

“I love you. I think you’re amazing, you know? No matter what, I’m always going to be here for you. Even when you don’t think you deserve it or when you wish you could just disappear. Trust me, if I wanted to leave— if I didn’t actually love you— I would’ve been long gone by now.” He told you, his voice confident, reassuring, loving.

And you wanted to believe him. You wanted to cling onto every word that left his mouth and believe them like they were gospel. You wanted to kiss him senseless and forget about the rotten world you were blessed enough to meet him in. But that voice inside your head said otherwise, fighting off the words your boyfriend told you, labelling them as lies, as promises that he would break just like everyone had before. You weren’t worth it. You weren’t worth anyone’s care or love. There was no way Donghyun actually—

“Y/n. What did I say? Don’t listen to the voice. What’s his name anyway?”

“Her name, actually. Mrs. Scrooge. She’s Scrooge’s grumpier wife. She’s insufferable.” You said, a little smile playing on your lips.

“Mrs. Scrooge? Must be tiring having to host that old lady in your pretty head.” Donghyun smiled, a mix of amusement and sadness in his voice. You just nodded, finally cracking a proper smile. “Well, tell Mrs. Scrooge that she’s not invited to this discussion.” Donghyun added, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Alright. I think she’ll go to bed for the night if I ask her.” You mumbled, staring back at the corydoras swimming around without a thought in the tank. They didn’t know how awful the world was— they only knew Donghyun and his perfectly caring nature. You wished you were a fish. But that would be impossible. At least you had Donghyun regardless.

“I love you. Thanks for getting her to go to sleep. She’s a real headache.” You mumbled, starting to stand up. Donghyun followed your movements, walking behind you to the kitchen.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked gently.

You hummed, “A lot better. Thank you.” 

Donghyun smiled, heart now at ease. He opened his arms for you and you fell into them, letting Donghyun bury his nose in your hair, pressing occasional kisses to the top of your head. 

The world was rarely kind to you, and some days it felt as if you were beaten so low to the ground that giving up and collapsing completely would be the better choice. But, no matter what, Donghyun always found you and offered you his hand, helping you up again with a reassuring smile and a promise to always be by your side.

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[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Nine

Eddie let Steve dry his hair after the shower. He knew Eddie understood the concept of the hair dryer, he’d felt it before and understood what it did. He’d watched Steve dry Eddie’s book after all, but practice and theory, apparently, can be very different.

Actually having the warm air pointed at Eddie’s head was not the same, and Eddie had, initially, behaved like a startled cat. It hadn’t helped that Steve had laughed so much he’d had to turn it off again and simply stand and wait for the laughter to pass.

He thought he had his shit back together but, no, one look at Eddie’s affronted face and he was gone again, actually crying tears of laughter. Eddie was much braver the second time, so they got there in the end.

They brush their teeth together, elbow to, well, more shoulder than elbow, in the mirror.

Eddie apparently has decided to just skip some steps tonight, and he has no compunction about getting straight into Steve’s bed.

Steve honestly doesn’t mind. He has genuinely slept better the last two night’s he’s spent with Eddie, and, well, he must just like the company.

There’s no breakfast this morning; Eddie is still sleeping. He’s pretty silent when he sleeps, no snoring or breathing sounds really, but Steve can feel that Eddie’s breathing just fine, considering Steve’s woken up spooning him, Eddie’s tail threaded back through Steve’s legs.

Steve has a face full of Eddie’s hair; the shampoo and conditioner routine are definitely making an improvement; Steve wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s soft, but it’s way better than the wiry mess it had been.

Steve rubs idle circles with his hand on Eddie’s tummy, and he can easily tell where the skin changes from...well, kind of human, to...kind of fish. It’s a little tougher, a little firmer.

Steve brings his hand up over what would be Eddie’s hip and back down; he thinks vaguely that he probably wouldn’t be touching like this if Eddie was equipped like a human.

Well, at least not without taking Eddie to dinner first.

Eddie shifts under Steve’s hand; waking up probably, so Steve withdraws. Except he can’t; Eddie gets Steve firmly by the wrist and puts his hand back, the message clear. When Steve doesn’t immediately move, Eddie moves Steve’s hand for him, tracing the same loop, “good, good,” Eddie tells him, “called?”

“Touch,” Steve says quietly to the back of Eddie’s head, “it’s called touch. I’m touching you.”

“Touch many many many good.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “that many goods is...perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Good good good. Many many good. The most good. All the good. Perfect.”

Eddie makes an assessing noise, thinking, “Stee perfect.”

Steve snorts a laugh, but can also feel himself blushing with it, and hides his face against Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie melts into the touch. Which, it makes sense really, doesn’t it? By the sound of it, Eddie was alone in the upside down, pretty much always fighting for his next meal, and then in that tank under Starcourt…Eddie’s probably never known a nice touch...well, ever. It makes sense he’d like it now.

Steve thinks Eddie may have actually fallen asleep again, his body is so lax and still, Steve himself snoozing a little, soothed by the hypnotic movements of his own hand, but then the phone rings and they both startle.

For a split second, Steve considers ignoring it, but he knows he can’t. Not with everything that’s happened; it could be important.

Steve sighs, sitting on the couch next to Eddie, trying to figure out what the fuck they’re going to do.

“Out?” Eddie asks again, pointing down the hall, “Eddidie not safe?”

“No, I know buddy, but you won’t be safe here either.” And fuck the pool should be drained for the winter by now, he’s going to have to do that too, before his parents get back tomorrow.

“Not safe Hawkins Indiana?” Eddie queries.

“It’s just for a few days, hopefully. I just need to figure out what to do, just let me think.”

Eddie sits quietly, plucking at the ruined bottom edge of his sweater.

Steve growls with frustration, “parents.”

“Parents?”

“Yeah buddy...uhm,” Steve gets a photo off the mantelpiece and brings it back, “this is my mum and dad.”

“Mum dad,” Eddie points, just like when he learned the kids names, “friends?”

“No. No not friends,” Eddie frowns tilting his head, “not safe?”

“Not safe for Eddie,” Steve confirms, “I’m going to have to call Hopper.”

“Grass Hopper?” Eddie immediately perks up. He’d followed one across the lawn when the weather was still warmer, and the memory has obviously stuck.

“No, different Hopper,” but Steve can’t help but smile.

Eddie perks up when the doorbell rings, “Hopper? Kids? Birdidie?”

“It’s Hopper, Buddy.”

Steve goes and gets the door, only when he opens it, he's greeted by Joyce and Hopper, “Oh. Hi, Joyce, I wasn’t, uhm, expecting you.”

“You have a mermaid from The Upside Down living in your pool and you think my boys didn’t tell me? After everything?”

“Right,” Steve says, backing up to let them both in, “so you knew too?”

“She rang me when Jon and Will confessed.”

“Right, no wonder you didn’t sound surprised.”

“Oh no,” Hopper takes off his coat, “I already knew, El told me the night Starcourt burned down.”

“Right,” Steve sighs, “of course.”

Hopper helps himself to a beer, eyeing the picture on the fridge, “Eddie drew it,” Steve tells him.

“Huh.”

Eddie sits patiently on the couch. Hopper eyes him like he might sprout tentacles any second, but Joyce says, “Hi Eddie, how are you?” In her kindest most motherly voice, and Steve knows he’s already won Joyce over without even doing anything.

“Hi. Good,” Eddie replies, and watching Eddie engage in conversation with a total stranger, even if it is only a few words, fills him with pride.

“Eddie, this is Joyce, and Hopper.”

“Joyce. Hopper.” He slurs a little over Joyce, but it’s more than recognizable.

“Joyce is Will and Jon’s mom. Hopper is El’s dad.”

Eddie frowns, and Steve recognizes Eddie’s processing face immediately, Eddie shakes his head, pointing at the mantle, “mom, dad.”

“Yeah, they’re my,” Steve taps his own chest, “mom and dad. Hopper is Els dad. Joyce is Wills mom.”

Steve almost sees the light bulb moment, when it clicks for Eddie what Steve means, “book,” Eddie leans over, retrieving his now really rather worn encyclopedia from amongst his stack of work books on the coffee table.

Hopper’s watching him like he might suddenly become a bomb that needs diffusing, but Joyce is learning forward in her chair, eyes kind and focused, hands clasped, clearly enamored of Eddie and what he’s doing.

“Stee?”

“Yeah Buddy?”

Eddie has the book open, and Steve leans over to look. It’s a page about frogs. The picture shows artfully drawn frogspawn, then tadpoles, then something Steve is just now learning is called a ‘froglet’, which is just basically a tiny frog with a tadpole tail, and then the final arrow points to a fully fledged frog.

Eddie points to the tadpoles, “El, Will, Stee,” and then he points to the big frog, “Hopper. Joyce. Mom. Dad.”

“Yeah Buddy, that’s right! You got it,” Eddie grins big and proud, finally figuring it out.

“Oh wow, he’s so clever, could he talk at all, when he first got here?”

“No. He didn’t understand anything, really.”

“Steve that’s so impressive, for him to come this far in, well, weeks, really, is amazing.”

And it has been pushing a couple of months, really, but yeah, Steve gets what Joyce means.

Eddie eyes Hopper and his drink, “Stee. Not later.”

It takes Steve a second, but he gets there, “no, but we could have later now.”

Eddie nods, so Steve goes and gets a beer. Both Hopper’s eyebrows are in his hairline, “you let him drink beer?”

“We only share one,” Steve says, a little defensively.

Eddie grasped the idea of going somewhere in the car really fast. That part was easy. Explaining that the tent needed to come down? Not so much.

Joyce and Hopper have gone again, Hopper with the promise of rearranging the cabin a little with El, and then getting Eddie appropriate groceries. Hopefully it’s only for a couple of days, but Steve has no idea with his parents.

He didn’t want to just send Eddie off with a stranger, even if it is Hopper, so he agreed to bring Eddie over this evening, after he set the pool draining and removed all traces of Eddie from the house.

He wanted to just put Eddie’s things in the bottom of his closet, show Eddie that he wasn’t getting rid of anything. That it would all be there for him when he gets back. Even the tent can be folded and squirreled away in the garage; even if Steve is already dreading putting the thing back up again.

Eddie had packed a bag with no problem, and then watched out of the window as Steve had put it in the car. There wasn’t much he wanted; his book and a coloring book, his walkie (with fresh batteries), some notebooks, his four jerseys and some pencils. His toothbrush.

Steve felt a little bad that Eddie hadn’t somehow accumulated more stuff, but Eddie didn’t seem fussed about it.

He seems fussed about this though, where he’s planted himself squarely in the mouth of the tent and just...won’t move.

He has his hands on what must be a vague approximation of where his hips would be, and Steve figures he’s done that to himself; there’s only one person Eddie could have picked that up from, and it’s him.

“Buddy,” Steve sighs, “we have to go to Hopper’s, okay? So I will put the tent back as soon as I can.”

“No.”

Steve gets up, goes and gets a box from the garage and brings it back. Eddie has stuck his head out to watch Steve, but otherwise hasn’t moved, “look, you can pack it yourself, okay? It’ll be safe, I promise. But we have to do this. No tent. Tent bad for Steve.”

“Why?”

Steve closes his eyes for a second, he really, truly, hates the ‘why?’

“Because...my dad he...he won’t like it. And it’ll be...bad.”

Steve doesn’t know how to explain that the house has to be exactly as they left it, even though the only come back for four weeks a year, if that.

“Bad?”

Steve nods, “dad might...be angry,” Eddie’s frown deepens, “he might...tell Steve bad.”

Eddie frowns, wrestling with the concept, “tell ow?”

“Yeah. Yeah probably,” Steve admits, even though he really doesn’t want to.

Eddie relents, backing up into the tent. He looks unhappy though, as he starts handing Steve things. Two folded towels; Steve replaces these periodically when Eddie brings him damp ones and asks for fresh ones. The slinky. The rubber duck. The Rubik's cube.

Eddie’s bucket, filled with short bits of twig, pine cones and tufts of dried grass, things that may have been flowers at some point.

An antler. Which Steve just, honestly, stares at for a minute, “where did you find this Buddy?”

Eddie points, “tree.”

“Right,” and Steve’s left wondering just how far Eddie goes when Steve’s not here. A delicate, perfectly clean, bird skull follows immediately after, and Steve decides to not even ask. He nestles it carefully in the bucket.

The ground mats follow, and then Steve watches as Eddie reaches up. He frees something from the middle pole, the one that runs across the top of the tent. A necklace, shining silver. Four rings follow, still tangled with the long stems of dried grass Eddie had used to fix them up there. Steve recognizes it all immediately; Eddie’s been in his parents room.

More specifically, his mothers jewellery box. Eddie looks so dejected, so guilty, “buddy, it’s okay, but I have to put these back. You know that, right?”

“In?” Eddie asks, pointing to the house.

“Yeah buddy but...you can have them back, after, okay?” Steve carefully slips Eddie’s treasure into his pocket.

Part Eleven

[auspicioustidings]

Mermen au with mer TF141 and researcher reader trying to learn about their. . .biology :Dd Or them trying to bring progressively bigger fish trying to woo and then Ghost ends up bringing you a fucking orca or some shit,

...I had to look up the reproductive cycle of several marine animals for this I hope you are happy.

Deductive Reasoning

Words: 1.3k

CW: ...light fish porn (?)

It was just fascinating. It would have been dreadfully difficult to not talk about this every chance you got and thus break your NDA if not for the fact that you never left this secure little island base. You were permitted to, but why would you want to? You were speaking with living, breathing mermen almost everyday.

4 of them, although they had alluded to their being more out there. These 4 were a... well that was the question wasn't it? Only one shark did not make a shiver, only one seal did not make a herd, only one walrus did not make a rookery and only one mandarinfish did not make a shoal. Was there a collective term for mermen? You were told you were now the leading researcher in the world for this new species, so perhaps that meant you got to decide.

Or maybe you'd just ask. They spoke to you sometimes, or at least made noises. They seemed to understand each other at least which was intriguing on its own.

It had been Soap you had met first. You had been basically abducted and hurried to this island facility where they had captured a real life merman. You were enamoured immediately by the furious thing in the tank. Half seal, harbour seal you thought. Top half looked all but human (skin must be different to allow for underwater living and ah, yes, you could see gills), hair in a mohawk (which suggested someone had cut it to look like that, who? Was it a ritual? Did they have community? Was it an emulation of human culture? Perhaps some mating strategy?), eyes somewhere between human and seal (his physicality was a similar story, he was built strong and thick, a healthy layer of fat over hard muscle).

You perhaps felt a little bashful looking back. You had been so wildly excited, asking a thousand questions and going into chaotic science mode that it took you a whole 16 hours of straight observations and notes to realise there was a creature of higher intelligence being held captive in a tank. You did, of course, apologise profusely. He clearly did not understand what you were saying, but the emotion was human enough. Bemusement.

Soap had come about because he was slippery. Well, actually he wasn't, but the story was that he was slippery. Because if the military knew you had actually been helping him escape you were probably going to get disappeared. It was lucky the facility at that time wasn't as high security, you had gotten away with it.

You had met Gaz right there on the coast when Soap went slicing through the water. You thought looking back that Price and Ghost had probably been there, just out of sight. They had come for him. Gaz was a magnificent thing. His tail was the same pattern as a madarinfish, bright orange with gorgeous blue markings. You had shown him a tin of irn-bru once with a grin and learned then that Soap could laugh. He had come right up to you and after some form of exchange with Soap had been playful, showing off his tail and holding his hand out to you. You had been existing on caffeine and noodles so hardly your fault you took it, getting dragged into the water.

Oh how thrilling an education you received in the courting practices of Dragonets! He had made quite a show of displaying his fins, including a gorgeous dorsal fin on his human looking spine. You knew you simply must see them again if only to study why Gaz's eyes were more human while Soap's leant towards seal like. He was certainly the most expressive of them. His name had only come about because you had tried every other one and he made his disdain for them very clear. By the time the merman had been rubbing what you would call his ventral fins against you, Soap had grabbed you and soundly deposited you back on shore. Just in time too for the soldiers to find you because the doctor later told you that you were in the early stages of hypothermia. Totally worth it actually.

You talked the powers that be into allowing your pet projects to free roam, after all they kept coming back to see you. Over the course of a year the facility was upgraded and a channel added from the sea to an indoor pool that would allow for better study. Soap and Gaz didn't run on a schedule exactly, but they seemed content to swim in every so often and let you poke and prod. Fascinating that they should both be half human but their other half was so entirely different. Soap was half mammal, retractable penis something he was very proud to show off anytime he was in the observation pool. Gaz was half dragonet, and while you tried to put a clutch of eggs in the pool to see if he could fertilise them he had only raised an eyebrow at you and tried once again to pull you in. Tough luck, you had learned your lesson about going into the water with them when you had met Ghost.

It had been the middle of the night when he swam into the pool. Silent, you hadn't heard him (that's where that name had come from in the end). So unsuspecting were you that you were too near the edge and his hand had snaked around your ankle, one sharp pull dragging you in after you fell to the ground (hardly avoiding a broken nose). It wasn't only his tail that was shark, he had a sharp set of teeth that he sank into the meat of your shoulder without much ceremony. His claspers had been strong as hell holding you there, the only thing likely saving you his frustration at your clothes. He must not have understood the concept very well because he released you and dove, pawing at your trousers to try and figure them out. It was an endless source of fascination for him anytime he visited after. He would lean his arms on the pool edge and just stare at your legs, tracing the outline of your body with his sharp eyes. It only seemed fair to let him look since you spent an inordinate amount of time staring at him. He was sleek and muscular, every inch an apex predator in his prime.

It was a contrast to who you would say was the leader of their group. The merman who had saved you from Ghost that first time you met him, who had ripped him away from you when his teeth had sunk into the meat of your thigh through your trousers. Price had hauled you out of the water with ease. He was part Walrus, huge and soft with a layer of blubber similar to Soap's that hid considerable strength. Of all of them his animal half was most pronounced, his canines elongated into tusks and his hair thick and whisker-like around them.

As a scientist you could not possibly play favourites. Price was absolutely your favourite. He would be still and patient with you when you were working with him. He would gently run his fingers over whatever parts of you were in reach. When you babbled excitedly he seemed to listen as best he could.

If you had taken more than a moment to really look into it, you might have realised you were not the only creature conducting research. If you had used some deductive reasoning, you probably could have anticipated that fateful day you were dragged into the sea, never to be seen by the human military again.

[adore-laur]

Hey! Saw your post abt asking for more dadrry and I love sending these to you so here goes: Harry’s been noticing that his wife is a bit down lately. It’s not because of anything in particular she still loves all of them but she’s just a bit bored at home with him back at work after a short parental leave to take care of the baby and their oldest daughter at school now. So one day he concocts a plan with their oldest kid and takes her with him to the pet store to pick up something to keep his wife company

——

It was Harry's last day of parental leave, and he noticed you were apprehensive about it. He had been at home for twelve weeks, savoring time with his three girls. Now, he was leaving the little bubble of bliss and heading back to work.

He empathized with you, knowing the daily parenting routine would weigh heavily on your shoulders. A part of him didn't want to leave you. It wasn't that he didn't trust you—he simply dreaded missing milestones, cuddles, and the mere pleasure of watching you as a mother.

Harry was out and about running errands with his eldest daughter to enjoy some quality time together before tomorrow arrived. He stocked up on groceries so you wouldn't have to worry about it for a while. He had also already decided to freeze several home-cooked meals to make it easier on you, as well as occasionally bring dinner home from work if he had the opportunity. Next on the list was buying more diapers and baby powder.

You had told him the days would be long and boring without him home as the main entertainer for the girls. Last night, before he had fallen asleep, he brainstormed ways that you could pass the time while he was working. You obviously had the kids to take care of, but there would be moments, like during nap time, when you'd be sitting in the house with nothing to do.

It was easier with the first kid since all you did was nurse and soothe cries. Now, you needed a distraction for both the kids and you.

"Daddy, can we go see the animals?"

Harry was buckling his daughter in her car seat when she asked the question. Her little finger pointed next to the grocery store they were just at, where a pet store resided. He'd never ventured in there before simply because he had to reason to. Now, he had a daughter who loved every animal that roamed the earth and held a curiosity toward any signs of them.

He sighed and unbuckled her. There was no chance he'd have said no, even if he did want to soak up family time in the comfort of his home. But his baby girl got what she wanted, at least when it was a reasonable request.

Steady rainfall dotted his clothes and frizzed his hair as he speed-walked toward the automatic doors with his daughter on his hip. It was Sunday, so there was a slow stream of people driving around and walking past the line of stores and boutiques.

Inside the pet store, an unknown smell greeted him, as well as two green parakeets perched in a large, luxurious birdcage. His daughter gasped with a wondrous smile, listening to them chatter and squawk noisily. Further past the several species of birds placed near the storefront window were glass terrariums with bearded dragons, nonvenomous snakes, and slider turtles. They all moved leisurely and held zero interest in visitors.

In the back, a dark section dimly lit by blue aquarium lights showcased rows upon rows of glass tanks filled with freshwater fish galore. Some of Harry's cherished childhood memories involved lingering near the fish section at pet stores, feeling like he was in a secret underwater world that no human could enter.

"All right, lovebug," Harry said. "I have a question. Should we get Mommy a fish to take care of?"

"Yes!"

"Let's pick one out. I'll even let you get one if you want."

"Really?"

He jostled her playfully. "Of course. We'll put it in your room and help you feed it."

She rested her head on his shoulder and softly said, "Thank you."

His heart melted a little bit as he kissed her temple and set her down. "Anything for my sweet girl."

They walked hand in hand past the tanks and admired the different species of fish floating in the water—goldfish, cichlids, tetras, and ones he couldn't name.

"I want one of those." She pointed to some nearby shelves, where there were little glass containers with betta fish swimming around in them. Many were vividly multicolored. It seemed like a perfect distraction for your mind. Nothing too high-maintenance or in need of too much attention.

"Yeah?" He stalked over to the shelf. "Which one?"

"Purple," she said decisively.

"And which one for Mama?" he asked.

"You pick."

Harry browsed the options. They were all magnificent to look at, but one in particular grabbed his attention. On the bottom shelf, there was a pearl-white betta fish that looked like a wispy angel. Harry crouched and closely inspected the harmless creature. It was beautiful, with an appearance of quiet elegance. Just like you.

"Definitely this one," he said, picturing it in a bigger tank with aquarium pebbles and plants and maybe a rock cave to sleep in.

Harry waved over a store associate and got the checkout process started. Within ten minutes, he was carefully carrying two glass containers with the new pets and pushing a shopping cart with two separate two-gallon tanks, pellets, and a couple of cheap aquarium decorations.

When they arrived home, Harry walked through the front door and saw you sleeping on the couch. The baby must have been napping as well, which was really the only time you or he could catch up on sleep. He smiled to himself, a lovely ache pulsing in his heart. If it was possible, he'd stay home with you forever and have "parent" be his singular job title. Alas, he was a needed man outside the home. 

His daughter skipped toward you, clearly excited to reveal the surprise. Harry slowly walked over with the fish and crouched next to your sleeping form. Quietly beautiful. 

"Sweetheart," he whispered, softly stroking your cheek with his knuckles. 

You sleepily opened your eyes, squinted at his face, and then hummed happily. "You're home." The way you said it sounded relieved, which made him not want to be released from his sabbatical. If only he could work from home. 

"We got you something," he said, turning to his daughter so she could do the honors. She took the container with the white betta fish and held it out like it was a sacred gift meant to be handled with the utmost care and respect.

"What is... oh my, what is this?" you asked, your expression morphing into amazement. "Where did you get this?"

"We went to the pet store, and Daddy said that me and you could get pet fish."

You quickly noticed the other betta fish that Harry was holding, and your eyebrows drew together. "What's the special occasion?"

Harry tucked the blanket further up your body and said, "Tomorrow is going to be rough, so I thought you could use a distraction when the days are long without me here."

Your jaw dropped a little as you took the container and closely watched the wispy specimen swim in circles. "That's so thoughtful, Harry."

"Thank your daughter," he replied, kissing your head as he stood up. "She convinced me. Thankfully, she picked an easy animal to take care of." He couldn't imagine if he came home with a slithery snake or an obnoxious bird. This was a peaceful pet that didn't really do much of anything. Something you could simply admire and keep satisfied through simple measures.

He never thought getting you a fish would be a part of his lifelong repayment for two precious children, but it was the most spontaneous moments that mattered most.

——

[l4ndonorizz]

aquarium date gone wrong / oscar piastri x reader

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

song: troye sivan - wild

summary: what was supposed to be a fun and relaxing date at the aquarium with osc takes a hilarious turn when he accidentally slips into the touch pool. between laughter, playful teasing, and the sparks that have been building between you, the night turns into something far more memorable than either of you could have expected—ending with a kiss that makes the unexpected mishap worth it.

wc: 1k

The aquarium was quieter than usual, the soft blue glow of the tanks casting a serene, almost magical atmosphere over the hallways. You and Oscar strolled side by side, your fingers brushing against each other every now and then, sending a little jolt through your body every time. You hadn’t yet worked up the courage to hold his hand, but it felt like only a matter of time before one of you made the first move.

“This place is amazing,” Oscar said, his voice full of awe as he gazed into the huge tank filled with colorful fish, sharks, and stingrays gliding effortlessly through the water. “I’ve never been to an aquarium like this before.”

You smiled, enjoying how fascinated he seemed. “I figured you’d like it. Plus, it’s more fun than the typical dinner date.”

Oscar chuckled, his gaze still glued to the fish as they swam gracefully through the water. “Definitely. Plus, it’s hard to beat walking around with you.”

You felt warmth creep up your neck at his comment, your heart doing a little flip. Oscar had always had this effortless way of making you feel special, and tonight, under the soft lighting of the aquarium, it felt like something more was beginning to bloom between you.

The two of you continued walking through the various exhibits, chatting easily and stopping to admire the different sea creatures. It wasn’t until you reached the touch pool area—a large, shallow exhibit where people could gently interact with certain sea life—that things took an unexpected turn.

Oscar, ever curious, leaned over the side of the pool to get a closer look at the stingrays gliding beneath the surface. “You think they’d let me take one of these for a ride?” he joked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think you’ve had enough fast things for one lifetime.”

But before you could say anything else, Oscar took a step back—and straight into the “Caution: Wet Floor” sign placed a few feet behind him. His feet slipped on the slick surface, arms flailing wildly as he tried to steady himself, but it was no use. In one swift, clumsy motion, he lost his footing entirely and toppled backward—right into the touch pool with a loud splash.

Water sprayed everywhere, and for a moment, everything was silent as you stared at him in shock, trying to process what had just happened. Oscar blinked up at you from the shallow water, his hair soaked and his shirt clinging to his chest. His stunned expression was almost too much to handle.

“Well... I guess they do let you swim with the fish,” he muttered, half-laughing, half-embarrassed.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet hall. “Oh my God, Oscar! Are you okay?”

He sat up, water dripping from his clothes and hair, giving you a sheepish grin. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just... wet. Very wet.”

You reached for his hand, pulling him out of the pool while still giggling. “You’re never going to live this down, you know.”

Oscar took the towel offered by a nearby staff member, shaking his head as he wiped his face. “Yeah, I figured as much,” he said, wrapping the towel around his shoulders. He looked at you, his smile growing as he caught your eye. “But at least I made the date memorable, right?”

You smiled back, your heart fluttering at the way his eyes lingered on yours. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

The two of you walked towards the exit of the aquarium, Oscar still dripping a little, but his mood light and playful despite the mishap. The cool night air hit your skin as you stepped outside, the rain from earlier leaving the streets glistening under the streetlights. You glanced at him, noticing how the dampness had made his curls even messier, how his wet shirt clung to his muscles in a way that made your stomach flip.

“I don’t know how you managed to make even falling into a pool look cute,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder as you walked side by side.

Oscar laughed, running a hand through his wet hair. “Yeah, well, I aim to impress.”

“You’re definitely succeeding,” you said, your voice softening as you glanced up at him, feeling the weight of your words hanging between you.

Oscar’s playful smile faded into something more serious, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, the world around you seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you standing there, inches apart. His hand brushed against yours, and this time, neither of you pulled away.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” Oscar murmured, his voice low, almost nervous, as he leaned in closer.

You could feel your heart racing as his fingers intertwined with yours, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. “Do what?”

Without answering, Oscar gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. The tension between you grew, thick and electric, until finally, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly grew more intense.

Your hands slid up to his shoulders, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss, the world around you fading into the background. There was nothing else—just you and Oscar, the warmth of his lips, the steady beat of his heart under your hands.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, Oscar rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. “I guess that’s one way to end a date.”

You laughed softly, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “Definitely better than watching you fall into a pool.”

Oscar grinned, his eyes sparkling as he pulled you in for another quick kiss, this one filled with more confidence, more promise. “Next time, I’ll try to stay on dry land.”

“Next time?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Already planning the next one?”

He shrugged, his grin widening. “If you’re up for it.”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him once more. “I’m definitely up for it.”