#need them to be happy for my own sanity

[lenny-zesty]

nuzi is so nice because it fits whatever mood you want. you want fluff? boom. robots being sappy. you want angst? oh look they’re doomed and they KNOW they’re doomed

[alittlefrenchtree]

<pictured: the exact moment i fell in love with Alex + the exact moment I fell in love with Henry>

[chleem]

Mistletoe

One shot: bf drew starkey x gf yn

Summary: In which your secret relationship with drew gets exposed due to a quick kiss beneath the mistletoe.

Genre: fluff (making out wdrew)

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ happy xmas! | halloween | mr & mrs starkey

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You thought no one would say yes to a Home Alone marathon, but here you were—with seven friends huddled on your couch the week before Christmas.

You were prepared for rejection from them; watching the entire trilogy alone - well, not alone. With Drew, of course. 

Your boyfriend, of three months. Secret boyfriend. 

No one knew about you and Drew. And you both planned to keep it that way. The moment anyone found out, the teasing would be relentless. The questions would come. And honestly? You weren’t ready for that invasion of privacy.

It was easier this way. Just the two of you. Even if Drew was laughing along with everyone else, sitting across the room, his gaze on you would linger longer in a way only the two of you understood. 

What did Taylor Swift once say? Romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours. 

Maybe, the best thing she’s ever written. 

You stand up from your seat, carrying your empty cup. You needed a refill of hot chocolate, the only thing (other than Drew) that’s keeping your sanity alive in this cold weather. 

When you walk past where Drew’s sitting, the heavy weight of his stares makes your heartbeat uncontrollably speed up. 

Entering your kitchen, you immediately reheat the milk using the coffee machine, then pouring a bag of the instant chocolate powder into your cup. 

It feels like hours has passed waiting for the coffee machine to stop. 

Luckily, you weren’t alone while waiting. 

Before you can even react, arms snake around your waist, caging you between his body and the kitchen counter. His chest presses lightly against your back, and the warmth of his body sends a shiver down your spine.

Your heart already knows who it is: Drew. 

“Hey you,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing. 

He kisses your temple, and you sneak a look past his shoulder. The kitchen had a wall separating itself from the living room; but you could never be sure. 

“No one saw me,” he says, reading your thoughts. You look into his mischievous blue eyes with your skeptical ones, trying to suppress your smile. 

“Well, you can’t just sneak up on me like that,” you say, leaning into his touch. Without thinking, you let your nose drift near his neck; because why not? 

And as expected, he smells nice. 

“Mhm,” he’s never going to stop sneaking up on you. Drew’s eyes avert themselves down to your lips, before licking his own. “When are they going to leave?” 

“You know what a movie marathon means, right?”

Your words causes Drew to frustratedly groan, and throw his head back dramatically. You laugh at his reaction, finding it cute. “And we’re only on the second one…” 

“Patience, baby, okay?” You coo at him, a smile appearing on your face. 

You reach for the hot milk, pouring it carefully into your cup. As you finish, Drew’s hand moves up, effortlessly reaching the cupboard above you. Without a word, he pulls down the jar of marshmallows and hands it to you, his fingers brushing against yours. 

“We should just send them all home,” he whispers in your ear, seductively and annoyingly so, knowing that no one’s in here but the both of you. 

You send him a glare, shaking your head at him. “You mean I should send them all home. No.” 

You try to step away, cup of hot chocolate in hand, but before you can make it to the door, Drew pulls you back toward him again. His grip tightens around your waist, his hands feeling like they've found a permanent spot there.

You stumble slightly, not expecting the sudden pull, and end up having your chest tightly pressed against his. The heat from the mug in your hands is nothing compared to the warmth radiating from him.

One hand goes and takes the hot drink away from you, putting it back on the counter. “C’mon, I’m not done with you yet,” he smirks, undeniably teasing you. 

“Seriously?” you mutter, eyes narrowing at him, but the way your lips twitch betrays you. You like how he impatient he is; how he acts as if he can’t spend seconds away from you. 

You watch as Drew straightens up, his eyes gleaming with excitement, hand still firmly around your waist. The other slips into his pocket, and you raise an eyebrow, already bracing yourself for whatever this latest move will be.

“What now—” you start to ask, but your words die in your throat as Drew pulls something small out of his pocket.

The smallest sprig of mistletoe possible.

Your breath catches as you look up at him, eyes wide in disbelief. You expected anything but that.

He holds the mistletoe above the both of you, now expecting you to kiss him.

Then…“With you~ shawty with you,” the familiar tone of Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe leaves Drew’s mouth, but completely out of tune. 

You snort, unable to hold it in, the goofy sound escaping your mouth before you can even stop it. Romantic moment? No, maybe the complete opposite. 

Drew’s grin widens, and before you can even get a word out, he continues to sing the last chorus of the song. 

Your soft giggles encourages him to sing even more dramatically, adding in ad-libs. And when the song comes to an end, he attempts a high-note on the last lines, “kiss me underneath the mistletoe.” 

“You dork,” laughing, you hit his shoulder lightly in attempt to push him away.

“C’mon, kiss me,” he leans down closer to you, “especially after that performance.” 

You look up at him, eyes still gleaming with laughter, but something shifts. The playfulness in his gaze deepens, the smile slipping into something a little softer, a little more serious. He’s still holding the mistletoe above your heads, but it no longer feels like a joke.

And because it was such a good performance, you wrap your arms around his neck, pull him even closer, and kiss him. 

You pour your emotions into it; kissing him soft and slow. Drew immediately melts into it, kissing you back with the same tenderness. 

He drops his hands to wrap around your body, the rough leaves of the mistletoe tickling the skin your top doesn’t cover. You giggle into the kiss, leaving the invitation for Drew to thrust his tongue deeper into you. 

His hand slips lower and cups your ass, giving it a tight squeeze. 

Moaning into his mouth, you know this kiss is escalating. Escalating, rather fast. 

The pulse that speeds up in your lower stomach can support your thoughts. 

You pull away from him, breathless and slightly starstruck. 

Drew is definitely starstruck, lips plumped, cheeks red, and his blue eyes no longer able to hold a single thought behind them. 

He leans down to continue, and when you pull away, a pout is evident on his lips. 

“Earth to Joseph,” you giggle breathlessly, cupping his face. 

He smiles at the mention of his full name, lazy look in his eyes. “They didn’t notice I was gone,” he murmurs, his voice laced with desperation to kiss you again. 

“They will soon,” you gently tell him, before planting a quick kiss to his lips again. 

“Fuck,” he groans, biting down on his lower lip. His gaze drops down between the both of you, and you follow his trail of line. 

Sure enough, the crotch area of his jeans is slowly emerging, a line evident.

“Forgot how easily aroused you are,” you tease, patting his shoulder as you walk past him.

Your gaze flickers to the doorway, and when your mind confirms it, you freeze.

“Shit.”

Your eyes lock with Madelyn’s. She’s standing there, mouth opened in a gasp, eyes wide with shock. She doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she’s caught you in the act. 

Her eyes flicker between you and Drew, who immediately turns his back to face her (obvious reasons why). Her opened mouth turns into a full-wide grin, before raising a finger to point between you and Drew. “Oh! Oh-“

Madelyn’s loud remarks echoes through your apartment, making herself heard to the rest of the group in the living room. You embarrassingly bury your face into your hands, hearing the footsteps of your friend group entering your kitchen. 

Great. So much for keeping this relationship a secret. 

“What happened?” You hear JD ask, worry in his tone. 

“They were making out! And- and Drew’s hard right now!” She practically yells it, leading to a chorus of gasps and laughs. You’re pretty sure Rudy laughs the hardest, his laugh full of amusement and disbelief. 

You groan in embarrassment, your face burning as you sink to the floor, hands instinctively covering your face like a shield. "Fuck," you mutter under your breath.

“You owe me fifty bucks!” You hear Chase happily chirp to someone. 

Everyone takes advantage of you and Drew’s discomfort, just like how you expected them to do once they found out.  

You then feel hands cupping your face, forcing you to look up. 

You meet the familiar blue, Drew now kneeling beside you with an embarrassed smile that matches yours. He rests his forehead against yours, his chest vibrating with laughter, “guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

You giggle at his capability to joke along, hitting his shoulder lightly. “You’re so annoying.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Drew says, brushing off your comment with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable. With a quick move, you grab the collar of his sweater, pulling him close. You tilt your head just enough to meet his lips in a kiss.

It’s soft. Brief. Sweet. Just enough to drown out the noise, to remind you of the quiet between you two amidst the madness.

When you finally pull away, your breath mingling, you murmur softly, “Merry Christmas,” your voice a gentle whisper that only he can hear.

Drew’s eyes soften as he looks down at you, his smile warm and genuine. “Merry Christmas,” he repeats, as if this moment—this simple kiss—is exactly what he needed too.

-------------------------------

word count: 1.6k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: merry christmas!! hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! i love writing these little holiday specials, bc it gives me the opportunity to write something fun & weird! last one i wrote was hallow's eve, and i just wanna say thxs for liking it. that is, im currently writing another christmas oneshot, so look forward to it!

other | mr & mrs starkey | hallow's eve

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire���is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

[xinganhao]

confession is not flashy 🩺 chan x reader.

or: you and dr. lee chan are basically just idiots in love. inspired by hospital playlist; title is from the song of the same name. happy chan day!

Attending Physician: Dr. Xu Minghao Patients: Dr. Lee Chan & You Observations:

Symptoms of mutual but unspoken affection persist.

Prolonged eye contact during case discussions, lasting an unnecessary yet telling 3-5 seconds.

Dr. Lee instinctively prepares coffee for you without being asked, despite denying any special treatment.

Notable verbal deflection whenever questioned about their relationship.

Displays of concern disguised as professional courtesy (e.g., Dr. Lee personally ensuring you eat, rest, and do not collapse mid-rounds).

Recommended course of action: One of them should just confess already, for the sake of department-wide sanity.

Resident Physician: Dr. Wen Junhui Patients: Dr. Lee Chan & You Observations:

Case of Chronic Emotional Avoidance detected.

You express concern for Dr. Lee’s well-being through passive-aggressive texts about eating habits.

Dr. Lee responds with deadpan humor, but follows every "I'm fine" with immediate compliance to your requests.

They speak in a shorthand no one else understands. Attempted to decipher once— resulted in a headache.

Dr. Lee shows clear signs of prioritizing your needs over his own, despite claiming you are “just a colleague” (False. You are the colleague).

Prognosis: Terminal pining. Unlikely to resolve without external intervention.

Chief Resident: Dr. Kwon Soonyoung Patients: Dr. Lee Chan & You Observations:

Patient zero (Dr. Lee) exhibits severe Protective Instincts toward you. Symptoms include unsolicited coffee deliveries, offering rides home, and giving up his only break to check on your patients.

You pretend not to notice, but also texts him first for help, second opinions, and snacks.

High likelihood of unconscious hand brushes.

Their "professional discussions" sound suspiciously like flirting in medical terminology.

Peer review suggests that every attending and resident has already placed bets on how long this will last.

Urgent recommendation: Immediate intervention required before the entire hospital loses its patience.

Final Diagnosis: Two highly competent doctors suffering from acute emotional repression, ongoing for years. Treatment options include forced confrontation or accidental confession under duress (i.e., a high-stakes surgery, excessive caffeine consumption, or a department-wide drinking session where Dr. Lee Chan can finally admit he has loved you from the moment he met you).

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[grimeshound]

UNDER YOUR SPELL.

masterlist.

word count: 4,329 (someone got a little carried away...)

pairing: in-ho x you.

summary: you haunt in-ho’s every thought, an obsession he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries—you have no idea the hold you have on him. when you get drunk for the first time, in-ho seizes the opportunity to show you just how deeply you’ve affected him.

cw: 18+, age-gap, dubcon (forced intoxication), mirror sex, first time, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, semi-public sex, dirty talk, corruption, manipulation

a/n: i’ve had this plot simmering in my head over the past few days ever since i wrote my in-ho hcs and it was practically begging to be written … manipulative in-ho my beloved

title from ‘under your spell’ by snow strippers, everytime I see an edit to him with this song it always eats so hard

---

Ever since he first laid eyes on you, In-ho thought you were the prettiest little angel to ever step foot in this hellhole.

You were nothing like the others. Kind, wide doe eyes, sweet smile that radiated innocence. He wondered how a pretty thing like you had ended up in a place like this. In-ho always did pride himself in his appreciation for the arts, all things with beauty. The moment he took notice of you, it didn’t take long for him to wonder what it would take to make you his.

You had joined a small group, after having met a kind man named Jung-bae who graciously let you in. Everyone shared their names, and that’s when you learned his. Oh Young-il. Except, of course, that wasn’t his real name. Just a guise, a character to play during the time he spent amongst the players. That didn’t matter, though, since you rarely used his name. 

“Sir,” you’d say. The times you did call his name, it’d be “Mister Young-il.”

The first time you spoke to him, you were nervous. It was hard not to be, something about his piercing gaze had a hold on you. Yet, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way you looked up at him, your voice so soft and deferential, made his pulse quicken. He’d do anything to protect you, and he did. Each time the games forced you apart, you’d come running to him the moment you returned to the main hall, your face lighting up with relief.

“I’m so happy you’re okay, sir.” You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, gentle and reassuring.

You hadn’t realized it, but your attachment to him was carefully orchestrated, a product of all the high-risk situations In-ho would engineer to put you through. He’d swoop in at the perfect moment to save you, it made you trust him, made you depend on him more than anyone else. It also nurtured the little crush you were already dewasveloping, and he noticed. You couldn’t help it. He  kind to you, protective, and so devastatingly handsome.

Behind the scenes, he dug through your file. Orphaned from a young age, too naive to understand the world’s cruelties. Trusting the wrong people, you had fallen into debt, landing here. The more he learned, the more he was convinced—You needed someone to take care of you. Someone like him.

One night, In-ho just couldn’t take it anymore. After hours of keeping up his cold, calculated facade, he found himself teetering on the edge of his own sanity. The stress of orchestrating the games was always a burden he bore in silence. But lately? It wasn’t just the carnage and strategy that weighed on his mind. On top of all that, now there was you. Every stolen glance, every soft word you uttered, every moment in your presence had burrowed under his skin. You consumed him, invading every thought until there was no room for anything else.

He knew he was losing control.

When the last murmurs of conversation faded throughout the main hall and the players around him drifted into an uneasy sleep, he finally gave in to his impulses. He had a guard sneak him a bottle of soju, not caring how inappropriate or risky the request was. Rank had its privileges, and he wasn’t above abusing them.

Even in the dim light he spotted you, laid in your bed not too far from his own. All curled up and completely unaware of the monster disguised as your guardian angel watching over you. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. 

He listened to the sound of your breathing as a guide, the quiet rhythm of inhale and exhale filling his ears before finally pulling the bottle from its hiding place beneath his pillow. With a sharp twist, he uncapped it, the faint scent of alcohol wafting into the air around him. Sitting up in his bunk, he took a long, deliberate swig. The burn of the soju as it slid down his throat was a welcome distraction, albeit temporary. He exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair.  

The alcohol dulled the edges of his stress but sharpened something far more dangerous, far sicker. Desire. Thoughts of you came to surface before he could resist, vivid and unrelenting. He thought of your wide, trusting eyes looking up at him, the way your voice wavered when you spoke his name. He didn’t stop his thoughts when they turned more and more depraved. Your quiet utters of his name turning into obscene moans, innocent brushes of skin escalating into him fucking you like a madman into the crummy bed he sat beneath. The way you clung to him, so innocent, so naive, so completely unaware of just how sick his thoughts would turn because of you. 

He took another long swig, his grip tightening around the bottle as his frustration intensified. How could you do this to him without even realizing? Without even trying? It was maddening, the hold you had over him. And now, with the liquor loosening his usually taut held control, he found himself wondering how much longer he could resist. How much longer he could keep his hands to himself.

And then, as if summoned by his desires, your voice broke the silence.

“Sir?”

He turned to see you turned towards him, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. He softened instantly, smiling lazily as he called your name. “You’re awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You climbed up to his bed without hesitation, settling beside him. “What about you?” 

“Me neither,” he murmured. He thanked whatever god there was that you couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t take a peek into the sick fantasies that had clouded up his thoughts just moments ago. Even now, when sat face to face with you, they played in the background— like a channel he couldn’t turn off no matter how hard he’d press the remote. Only, he didn’t make much effort in stopping them. If anything, the fantasies only shot up with you now in front of him. 

Your attention was soon drawn to the green bottle in his hand. “Is that… soju?”

He chuckled at your amazement. “It is.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “I’ve never had any before.”

His heart skipped. You really were too good to be true, weren’t you? He feigned surprise. “Never?”

You shook your head. “No. But..” You hesitated for a bit. “I’d like to try, if that’s okay.”

How polite. How trusting. He handed the bottle to you, hiding his smirk beneath a kind, patient smile. “Of course. Go ahead.”

You took it with both hands, your fingers brushing his briefly. There was a moment of hesitation, a fleeting glance at him as though you were silently asking for reassurance. He gave you a small nod, his expression warm and encouraging. Uttey deceptive. The thought of getting you completely wasted, rendering you impossibly dumber and even more impressionable than you already are rang like music to his ears. You tilted your head back as you gulped down more than he expected. He didn’t stop you, though. Simply watching with quiet satisfaction as you drained a sizable amount.

The first sip had your nose scrunching up, the bitter taste of the alcohol overhwleming you. Instead of backing out, you pressed on, curiosity and his approving gaze egging you on. With each gulp, you felt your body tense slightly at the unaccustomed burn that slid down your throat.

In-ho watched you intently, his dark eyes locked on you as the bottle tipped higher and higher. You were drinking far more than he expected, but he made no effort to stop you. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his lips quirking into a faint smile. Quiet satisfaction flickered in his eyes as he watched your determination to please him override your inexperience.

When you finally lowered the bottle, your lips were shiny from the liquid, your cheeks already beginning to flush, something In-ho was quick to take notice of. Whether it be your inexperience, the quickness of which you downed the Soju or the fact that you haven’t really drank or ate much prior. The alcohol had hit you harder than you anticipated, working its way through your system with worrying speed. Your head tilted back slightly as you tried to regain focus, blinking up at him with worried, glassy eyes. 

“Sir,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I feel…so funny.”

He stepped closer, his hand moving to steady you by your waist when your knees buckled slightly. “Funny how, sweetheart?” he humored you, the concern in his tone carefully crafted.

“Dizzy,” You clung to him instinctively, your hands gripping his arm like a lifeline as you specified. “I feel lightheaded, mister Young-il. M’scared.”

“Shh,” he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. His hand slid to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he held you steady. “It’s okay. You’re just not used to it, s’all.”

Your forehead rested against his chest, your breath uneven as you tried to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with something twisted in his gaze, though his voice remained tender and reassuring. “Poor baby,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand stroked your hair, the sound of his words soothing you. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

You were too drunk to notice the dark glint in his eyes or the way his smile lingered just a little too long. Too naive to realize how tightly his grip held you, as though he’d never let go.

Young-il led you to the bathroom, steadying you with a firm grip as you clung to him for balance. Every touch, every reassuring glance he gave you was planned down to the last detail, feeding into the web he’d been weaving since the moment he first laid eyes on you. You were his perfect little pawn, and now, more than ever, he could see his plan falling into place. 

When he knocked on the bathroom door, you were already bracing yourself for the usual bargaining and desperate pleading that so often accompanied requests to use the facilities. But to your surprise, the guards let you both pass without hesitation, a testament to the sway your knight in shining armor seemed to hold.

He guided you inside, shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. Leading you to the sink, he turned on the faucet, letting the cool water rush out. “Here,” he said softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s wash your face. It’ll help.”

You nodded, leaning over the sink and splashing the water onto your flushed cheeks. The cold sting sent a brief jolt through you, though it did little to clear the fog in your mind. When you blinked your eyes open and straightened, you nearly jumped at the sight of him standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a weight against your back.

Your wide-eyed gaze flicked up to the mirror. He stood there, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the intensity in his eyes made your stomach twist. Despite yourself, you wiped your face with your sleeve and offered him a sheepish smile.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, stepping closer. His hand brushed your damp hair back from your face, the gesture tender in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Good,” you mumbled, though the truth was far from it. The alcohol swirled in your system, leaving you dizzier than before. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, it sent a warmth through your chest that was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his tone low and velvety, each syllable wrapping around you like a shackle. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten until now, his chest pressing lightly against your back.

Your breath hitched as something firm brushed against you from behind, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper. “Sir Young-il…?”

“In-ho,” he rasped, cutting you off. “My real name, it’s In-ho.” His voice had dropped even lower, and there was something raw and possessive in the way he said it. You blinked, confused, his real name rolling off your tongue before you could even think twice to question him.

“In-ho,” you repeated softly, as if testing the weight of it. “What’s going on?”

His lips curved into a faint smile, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. “I’ll take good care of you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded too quickly, too eagerly, the alcohol and your long-brewing crush on him clouding your better judgment. “I trust you,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly as he trailed his fingers along your waist, his touch deliberate and possessive.

He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you two as his lips found yours in a kiss—the first one you’d ever shared. Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined it to unfold. You pictured your first kiss with a high school crush, maybe some boy your age who’d take you out on an innocent date. But all those dreams faded the moment you met In-ho, and now, all dreams you had were consumed by him.

You pressed against him, letting him take control as his kiss deepened, hungry and intense, like a man starved for more. You followed his lead instinctively, trusting him—because you always knew, deep down, he knew what was best. So when he raised his fingers to your lips, you hesitated for only a moment before parting them, allowing him to slip two fingers inside. His dark eyes gleamed as you sucked obediently, your cheeks flushing deeper under his watchful gaze. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and his breathing grew heavier.

Pulling his fingers away, he wasted no time in hooking them into the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down in one hasty motion. His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear as his right hand skimmed the sensitive skin of your neck.

You grabbed his wrist suddenly, your touch light and hesitant. “Wait, In-ho—” you murmured, your voice trembling with embarrassment. His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I… I’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He wasn’t surprised; he had suspected as much. But hearing it from you, seeing the vulnerability in your gaze—only stoked the fire burning within him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice deceptively gentle, though there was an unmistakable tension in his tone.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. “I trust you. Just… be gentle. Please.” 

He smiled at that, a flicker of something darker hidden beneath the curve of his lips. “Of course,” he murmured, his hands resuming their slow exploration. But in his mind, he knew the truth: restraint was never his strong suit. Especially when it came to you. 

And with you—so soft, so eager, so completely his, he doubted he could hold himself back for long.

His fingers, still slick with your saliva, trailed down to your entrance, brushing over it with deliberate precision. The touch made you jolt, a shiver running up your spine as you gasped. In-ho groaned low in his throat, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “Fucking dripping,” he mused, his voice a sinful rasp. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, the intrusion making your thighs instinctively part.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he pressed deeper, his touch firm but unhurried. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt something like this, but the last time had been your own doing—fumbling, desperate, and entirely unremarkable. That had been just days ago, tucked away in one of these very bathroom stalls, shamefully thinking of him. Now, with his hands where yours had been, the stark difference had you feeling light-headed. 

His fingers were thicker, rougher, impossibly skilled. The sensation left you trembling, your legs threatening to give out as he worked you open. His other arm snaked around your upper chest, holding you close, his grip firm yet possessive. The position bordered on a chokehold, but instead of fear, it only sent another wave of heat coursing through you.

Your breath hitched as a soft, broken “Ohmygod,” fell from your lips. He didn’t pause, didn’t falter. His finger curled just right, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your hands gripped on In-ho’s forearm, knuckles white as you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying and failing to stifle your moans.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet, roughened by desire. He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. His other hand released its hold on your chest as it moved lower, settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you.

You nodded weakly, barely able to form words. “Uh-huh… feels so good, sir,”

That made him chuckle, a deep, dark sound that reverberated through your body. The honorific sent a thrill down his spine, his cock straining against the confines of his sweatpants.

“You’re ready,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he pulled back just enough to tug his waistband down. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide as you took him in, the sight was intimidating, your head reeling. 

"In-ho, I–I don’t think I can take that." Your voice faltered, a hint of shame creeping into your words. He laughed, a sound so familiar it sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of hearty laugh you'd grown so used to hearing from him. But now, there was something different—something darker layered beneath it, like a cruel mockery. "Course you can, angel," he said, his tone smooth but laced with an unsettling edge. "I know you can. Let me take care of you."

“H-Here? Like this?” you asked, your voice small and unsure, referring to the state he had you in—bent over the sink and in front of the mirror. utterly at his mercy.

He leaned in, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your gaze back at your reflection. “Right here,” he confirmed, his voice a low growl. Want you to watch yourself while I’m fucking you open.”

The vulgarity of his words sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching for him. You nodded, too dazed and drunk to do anything else, and he didn’t waste another second.

He slid inside slowly, the stretch making you cry out and grip the sink tighter. The initial sting was sharp, but it quickly gave way to something deeper, something so intense it left you gasping. Your legs wobbled beneath you, and you leaned harder against the sink for support.

“In-ho… In-ho,” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a chant. “Sir… I— I feel you in my stomach.”

The confession had him groaning, a sound so guttural it made your knees weak. “Yeah? Fuck, baby.” He babbled as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours as his hand trailed down with deliberate slowness. When his palm flattened against your stomach, his fingers brushing over the faint outline of him inside you, your breath hitched. 

“Feel that?” he murmured, his composure slipping as he began to move. His hips snapped against yours, each thrust deliberate and punishing. You nodded frantically, a whimper escaping as he pressed down, sending a shockwave through your body. “In-ho, nngh!—“ 

You were completely out of it, your thoughts a tangled haze, your body slack and pliant in his hands. The alcohol coursing through your veins had stripped away every layer of hesitation, leaving you wide open to his manipulations. And In-ho, oh, he reveled in it. The way your voice slurred when you called his name, the way your movements were unsteady, dependent on him for every step and touch—it all fueled his sick delight. You were better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

As he pulled you closer, pressing into you from behind, your gaze flicked to the bathroom door, a flicker of worry breaking through your drunken stupor. “In-ho…” you mewled, voice soft as you felt your body jerk with each rough thrust he made.. “What if–ah!—someone walks in?”

He paused, his hands resting possessively on your hips, a smile ghosting across his lips. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, his voice low and soothing, though there was an unmistakable edge of amusement in his tone. “The guards won’t come.” His confidence sent a shiver through you, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “But… but what if another player—”

“No one’s going to interrupt us,” he said firmly, his dark eyes boring into yours before you could finish your sentence. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. “You’re with me. They wouldn’t dare.”

Something about the absolute certainty, the power in his voice—had your anxiety ebbing away, replaced by a strange sense of safety. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch, your inhibitions melting once again under his spell.

“You trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Mmhm,” You squeaked out through laboured breaths. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you back against him. He watched your reflection as his fingers dug into your soft flesh, relishing the way you gasped and arched into his touch.

Your head lolled slightly, your body swaying under his hold. “Mmmh…I feel so dizzy,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho chuckled darkly, his hands moving to steady you. “That’s just the soju, sweetheart,” he said, though he didn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

He loved seeing you like this. Drunk, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. Every soft whimper, every stumble, every little movement that showed how completely you relied on him only fueled his desire. You were his, whether you realized it or not.

As his fingers grazed your skin, he couldn’t resist pushing you further, testing your reactions as he pushed your buttons. “You know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the curve of your neck, “Y’look so pretty like this. All fucked out and needy. Just for me.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, pressed against him. “Y-you think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, his voice a velvety purr. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. “Just look at yourself, baby. See how perfect you are for me?”

Your hazy eyes flicked to the mirror, taking in the sight of the two of you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, his expression raw and predatory. The way he looked at you—it was almost too much. Your cheeks burned, and you averted your eyes, biting your lip.

He wasn’t having that. His hand left your waist, fingers gently gripping your chin and turning your face back toward the mirror. “No,” he said firmly. “I want you to watch. Watch yourself while I take care of you.”

The authority in his voice sent a thrill through you, your body trembling as you nodded weakly. “O-okay—ah, fuck!”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

As his hands roamed lower, teasing and exploring, you couldn’t help the soft, breathless moans that spilled from your lips. Every touch, every word, every look from him pulled you deeper into the fog of your drunken desire, leaving you utterly helpless in his grasp.

And In-ho? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin, your muffled cries, and his filthy murmurs. “Thaat’s it, there’s my pretty girl.” His hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fucking take it. Just like that.”

Every thrust sent you higher, the alcohol in your system amplifying every sensation, every nerve alight with pleasure. Your mind was fogged, the world around you turning into nothing but a senseless blur. And yet, you felt every little sensation In-ho fed you, each rough snap of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt your climax building, overwhelming and unstoppable. Your eyes fluttered shut, ready to let go—but his hand suddenly cupped your cheek, a sharp slap bringing you back.

“I told you,” he growled, his voice authoritative. “None of that. You keep your eyes on me when I fill you up. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, gasping as you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze once again through the mirror—the sight was enough to send you over the edge. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you cried out his name.

The sight of you coming undone beneath him was his undoing. With a few more erratic thrusts, he followed, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. A deep groan tore from his chest, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he rode out his high.

The room fell into silence, save for the sound of your labored breathing. In-ho steadied you, his hands gentle now as he helped you stand. He brushed your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“If we get out of here alive…” A sheepish smile spread across your face, “Let’s drink again sometime?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “When we get out,” he corrected, his tone laced with quiet determination. He kissed you once more, sealing the promise. And he meant it. If it meant keeping you by his side, he’d kill every last player in the game with his bare hands.

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake’s Farewell: The Day Gotham Let Him Go

They searched for him for months.

When Tim Drake disappeared, the entire Batfamily unraveled. One day he was there, saving Gotham alongside them. The next? Gone. No explanation. No note. Just silence. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian—they all assumed the worst. Kidnapping, foul play, an elaborate plot. Because Tim Drake doesn’t just leave.

But he did.

Months later, they found him. Not in a dark corner of Gotham. Not held captive by some villain. No, they found him in a small, quiet town in Europe. A place with cobblestone streets and flower boxes in every window. Tim was there, in a cozy house with a garden out back. And he wasn’t alone. He had a child—a bright-eyed little one with dark hair and a curious smile. The moment they saw the kid, they knew.

Kon.

The clone Tim made, after all those failed attempts to bring Kon-El back. Tim had finally succeeded. And he was raising this child alone, quietly, away from the chaos of Gotham.

The confrontation wasn’t what they expected. Bruce tried to argue, voice low and rough, that Tim was too young for this. “You’re barely out of your own childhood,” he said, the words falling flat even as he spoke them. He knew the truth: Tim had never really been a child.

Tim’s response? Calm. Firm.

“I raised you out of your grief. I was Robin because Gotham needed me to be. Because you needed me to be. But this isn’t what I wanted for my life. I’m choosing my happiness, Bruce.”

They didn’t know how to respond to that. Because Tim was right. He’d given everything—his childhood, his innocence, his sanity—for a city that never gave back.

Now, he had a family. A child who wasn’t burdened with masks and capes. And a life. A real life. One where he spent afternoons in the garden, mornings at the café down the street. Where he wasn’t “Red Robin” or “Tim Drake.” He was just… Tim.

There were signs of something else, too. Little things. An extra coffee mug in the kitchen. Another pair of shoes by the door. A faint, easy smile when he glanced across the street, as if sharing an inside joke with someone they couldn’t see. They didn’t press. But there was a quiet presence in Tim’s life, woven into the edges of this new chapter. Someone who helped build this safe haven, this peace.

And Tim had no plans of returning to Gotham.

“I’m not Red Robin anymore. And I never will be again.”

They didn’t understand at first. Not fully. How could he walk away? How could he choose this life, this quiet happiness, over the mission? Over them?

But deep down, they knew. They’d always known Tim’s heart wasn’t in it the way theirs was. He wasn’t like Bruce, who could never let go. Or Jason, who burned with restless fury. Or Dick, who carried hope like a torch. Tim had been the glue holding them together, but it had come at a cost. And now he was finally healing.

“I’ll still be family,” Tim promised. “I’ll visit. Holidays, special occasions. But this? This is my life now. You can’t take me away from my happiness because you need me to stay. That’s not fair.”

They wanted to argue. But what could they say? Tim had always been the rational one. The one who saw the bigger picture. And he was right.

Bruce’s voice softened. “You’re happy.”

Tim nodded. “I am.”

And in the end, that was all that mattered.

The Batfamily returned to Gotham, a little quieter, a little heavier. They’d lost Red Robin. But they hadn’t lost Tim. And as much as it hurt, they knew he’d finally found the peace they could never give him.

Some heroes leave the fight not because they’ve lost hope, but because they’ve found something worth living for.

Tim Drake had given Gotham everything. Now, it was time for Gotham to let him go.

[feral-ballad]

“My name is Nour Saqer, for the name remains when all is lost. I turned 22 years old last November. Yes. My youthful time was wasted on horrible days. Yes. Those days still continue.

My name is Nour Saqer. And I am 22 years old. I am a fifth-year dental student at Al-Azhar University of Gaza. I am an aspiring student. I am eager and passionate about my studies. Until the last minute, I was allowed to stay at my house on Oct. 7th. 2023 I was still working on a scientific research proposal that was supposed to be published by me and my teammates of young researchers late in November, that year.

This picture of me was taken late 2022 during an international dental conference held in campus.

During my college years alone. Me and my family have had to forcefully evacuate, and run out of our house four times. In 2019, 2021, 2022, and finally in 2023. Each time was in fear of the same threat; meeting our deaths under rubble. My name is Nour Saqer. And I have always been a Gazan. Each of those past times. If we were fortunate enough, we would discover that our home was in repairable damage. There would be a roof over our heads still. We were still fortunate. We still had luck.

But ever since October 7th. I haven't returned home. We were among the first families to evacuate Al-Rimal neighborhood from the very first day of this genocide, we had to turn our backs to it and expect no return. Two floors of my family house, along with my father's store, and only source of income, have been severely destructed due to neighboring missiles. And my university buildings were heavily exploded. All forms of life have been reaped from my city. My hometown.

This is what's left of our campus. I was supposed to have my graduation ceremony here.

My name is Nour Saqer. And I had an enthusiastic heart. And an energetic body. I played sports and walked down every street until I couldn't. I loved my family and friends dearly. I wrote poems about them. I spent time loving them and cherishing their presence. I loved life with all its little things. With all its unattainable things. I loved the grass and the tall buildings. And I loved all people. I loved my people. All their faces. All their talents. All their hidden lives. All we shared. Until we didn't. Everything I have ever loved I lost.

This picture of me was taken during a happy moment on the roof of our house.

This is all that is left of that picture now.

I am currently sheltered in Rafah with my family of 7. Sharing a place with 30 other homeless people. By the end of Ramadan, me and my family would have to evacuate and seek shelter for yet the 8th time due to housing problems. I am so tired of not having any sense of stability. Nothing to guarantee. Nothing to call my own. Every passing minute the situation in Rafah gets worse. Every passing minute I am losing loved ones and relatives. Every passing minute costs me my sanity. Costs me health. Costs me my basic rights to simply live.

I have nothing left to lose or pay the price with except for my life.

I don’t know how to retell my life story in limited words, how to make the most ordinary moments sound precious. How do I equate my value to someone deserving a life of safety? How do I shape myself as someone worth saving?

I have been interviewing myself for days. All my stories are choking me. All my grief is piling up and muting me. I keep trying to find a way to present the best of myself. To make myself someone you'd want to look at. Listen to. And even more,

Help.

I am finally placing both hope and faith in your helpful hands. I am asking you. Please put an end to this continuing tragedy. And help me get to safety. Before it's too late.

It should be in your knowledge that:

It costs $5,000 per person to get out of Rafah through the Boarder Crossing to Egypt. The rest of the donations will be to secure my tution money for the fifth and final year of dental school.

Thank you.”

[cirqosmos]

broken lipstick. yjw

2024 | 16+ | ONESHOT 1.8K. | G-yandere; W-obsession, possessive, unhinged jungwon lol, forced kissing with lipstick yes.

DIRECTOR's CUT, found an old note of ideas in my phone from 2022 about jungwon × lipsticks, and thought that it would be a pity to not write about it so here it is. this is kind of like an experimental storytelling, just finding my way with the rhythm and pacing of the words, sentences, and grammar. so if it kinda sounds weird, apologies in advance lol !

finding yourself trapped in this world he created for you drives you terribly insane.

down, and down you go.

every words he spills—he claims that he had spent hours and days of effort for this room, curating it just how you would like it; makeup palettes and brushes, lipsticks, magazines, jewelries, pretty and dainty sundresses, coquettish bows and laces perfectly matching your taste.

everything single thing before you—was all you've ever dreamt for, wished for, manifested for. bare skin planted firmly on this king-sized bed you've listed as one of your life wishes, wrists and necks adorned with saccharine gemstones—ones you've often seen on magazines.

every single damn thing was here.

he claims that he did it because he wishes nothing but to see the finest shade of happiness be illustrated on your visage; for bliss and satisfaction weaved under the strings of fairy tales, you shall wish nothing more but to remain abode.

yes, it is an exact replica of your dream room yet a lot more bigger, lavish, but certainly not home. a doll house would be a much better, fitting term. or perhaps, a prison—masquerade as the definition of your perfect little utopia.

his eyebrows knitted at the way you worded it, saying that such comparison is absurd, and certainly is not the truth. for all that was before you, is all yours to take—and so is he.

all yours to take, he says.

but if it was yours, then why can't you wear all it outside? has he ever thought that all these things is fucking useless if you can't even bring it with you out of this sickening room? what's all these even for, you asks. he replies with that same sickening smile, "why, silly, of course it's for you."

you repeated it with spite, "no, this is not for me. you're doing this for you."

"if you say so," he brought his finger against your cheek, stroking it ever so sickeningly, causing you to lean away. "you're my priority here, your wants and needs are at the best interest of my heart. nothing more, nothing less."

it didn't miss your eyes how his composed visage falters ever so slightly, so subtle—it almost slips away from your fingers but you saw it and you didn't care.

his soul, you despises—every word etched of his existence, you loathed. death shall greet him, and you'd never spare a glance.

why would you? when just a month ago, a world filled with the brightest prospects was all waiting for you, but his grim arrival dims every glowing lantern ahead of your path, ultimately sealing the door to your future tight and begone.

akin to a rat in a trap under a cat's claws; your sanity wilting with each passing day. how many days or months has it been? you lose track of time. where is your phone, even? oh why, he asks? books and magazines was what you'd prefer over some petty little devices, so why would you need them now?

rage, despair, helplessness; you released all these pent-up frustration with each object you slammed against the floor, scattered about in a hazard mess. broken, shattered in pieces like you do. he should see it, feel it, of how his own hard work are gone into the drain, like what he had put you into.

footsteps approaching from the distance.

the door flew open, just like how he often appears, ruining every single opportunity you had back then. he appears too composed, inexplicably unfazed at the ravage scene before his eyes. his own efforts obliterated into nothing, every single thing he spent time on perfecting was wasted, in downright shambles.

you drop on your knees, suppressing your sobs as he approaches with small steps.

it was all too silent, with only your shaky gasps blending with the solemn air. with your head down, eyes locked against the wooden floor, and on your clenched fists shaking with grueling anticipation, you glance nervously at how he stands so still—staring down at you like you were an object.

you wish he just would kill you right now.

in your peripherals, however, you caught the sight of his fingers grabbing the tossed lipstick, now broken in half—it's smoothened tip now uneven. you waited for him to say something, perhaps throw profanities at you for ruining this dollhouse he had spent hours and days at.

grow mad at me, hate me, and then throw me away. in your head, you chanted these words—prayers it ultimately morphs into.

however a gasp spills out of your lips, your breath caught at the back of your throat upon seeing him applying the lipstick on his lips, still and all—while humming a melodic tune as he does so.

"is this how you do it?"

you didn't answer, only imbued with aghast at the deep shade of crimson hugging his lips. as peculiar as it may seem, you can't deny that this visage of his perfectly adorns it.

he steps closer, alarming you—manifesting straight to your eyes widening in sheer panic.

with strong arms, jungwon catches your legs before you could push him away, pulling you closer where he forces you to face him, gripping your jaw so tight and suffocatingly so into his well of eyes; with it's depths you could never fathom till your last breath.

yet he begs you to drown in them, to answer all the questions written all over within—what's so fucking wrong to just stay obedient, and be his oh so sweet darling? why can't you see his love and dedication for you? of how he's ready to give up everything for you?

maybe a slap to your pretty face would tighten the screw in your head a little, or perhaps a yell pulled out from his throat would do the trick, but oh darling—profanities don't suit you, nor does it do you justice to be treated so harshly.

fragile you are, and such a fragile one should be nested, sheltered away from this merciless world. you do not need to lift a finger, or tire your pretty little head over useless things but..

but why is it that you refuse to understand him?

evident it was, through the way you dug your nails on his hands, imbuing your ever growing hatred to him. not a single word spoken, nor spitting at each other but through your eyes—your rampant wishes of spitting him death grows enormous.

die, die, just die.

you held your breath, as a stroke of his finger on your temple—slides down your cheek. a grimace takes form on your feature as he leans in, propelling your body to fight harder against his—though, he remains stronger and faster—pouncing on you like a prey, diving in with his venom-laced fangs into your lips, forcefully so.

his carnal desires takes form across your visage; smudged, blotted, and smeared. a shade so intensified through his vows to make you understand his perception of love.

they say that love is patient, love is kind, love is forgiving.

no, that's bullshit. it's fucking slippery, a mess, metallic taste leaking out from your lip—spilling into his tongue, only for him to hum in frenzied delight. a taste so sweet, so divine, like caramel melting in his cavern.

tilting his head sideways—his tongue went further into yours, twisting and knotting like wet fabric—pooling an amalgamation of saliva, blood, and lipstick down the corner of your mouth. sticky palms on the back of your neck, spiralling you down and down into these candied greed.

heat, searing, throbbing immensely—this pain, do you understand it now? that's how his heart mourns towards your ungratefeful, petty actions. have you perhaps realise it? maybe not yet, as you still had this little fight in you, a funny sight to behold.

your head spins, flashing in mismatched colors, jaw throbbing by his gracious mouth of flames—infiltrating every corner.

soaking everything in you with his relentless rhythm—a pace you could never match as it accelerates beyond what you can take with each second. his lips, like a paint brush—and you, like a paper being crumpled into every way possible. moulding your speech into incoherent sentences, strings of pathetic cries for help drowned out into the void, your prayers to god himself had been engulfed by a devil's kiss.

what's a god, even? they say humans are made in the image of god, but he dare say that not even god are comparable to you, nor those who reign above the heavens—angels, sirens, succubus or whatever the hell are there—your feet they shall kiss.

a canvas you are—pure, and untainted. a masterpiece in the making, not even the greatest artist known to mankind could do justice to your beauty.

you're his haven, his abode. yet also a temptation, a sin, his inferno. every edge of your portrait tweaked perfectly into his own ideals and fantasies, yet also a curse, the poisonous bane of his life, so toxic—it contaminates his soul.

decaying, decomposing—perhaps he was the serpent, and you're the tenant of the garden. insatiable, the apple of eden couldn't be as mouthwatering as your visage.

so why, can't you understand his love?

if you couldn't see it before, then he'll make sure you'll see it now.

dragging you across the floor, jungwon forces you to meet your reflection in the shattered mirror. on your knees, you met this drowned out visage of yours, all visible for you to observe; disheveled hair, your cheeks bathed in intense shades of red, all the same to your neck and shoulders, lips swollen with a visible cut, drenched in all his unspoken words. a mess, you are.

his pretty little mess.

yet what a masterpiece you are, still. he coos with lips pursing up in a sweetened grin, as if he had sucked out all remaining little bits inside your little jar of hope. do you see it now? how every part of you belongs to him, all for his lips to take and taste.

"you look even prettier, all broken like this." jungwon isn't very much different, but while you look like a corpse bludgeoned into mayhem. the image he bears was of a bloodthirsty demon, an animalistic abstraction.

through the mirror, you could see him shuffling around—looking for something amongst the mess, only for the same lipstick he used as an instrument for this macabre play—returning to his palms.

with him back to your side, he delivered a stroke down your hair, tucking your locks behind your ear. a chin he places on your shoulder, one hand under your tummy and the other looped around your shoulder to reach for your lips.

the same broken lipstick, made its way on your lower lip. a shade so deep, so heavy, amplified by his twisted affection. all dolled up for only his eyes to see. your luscious hair—inviting him closer and closer, savoring the way it hugs his fingers. too delicate, the broken mirror could only shy away from you.

"mirror, mirror on the wall," the lipstick tossed on the floor, replaced by his thumb lapping your lip. "who's the fairest of them all?"

© 2022-2024, pieroulette on [tumblr].

[etfrin]

The Reward — Coriolanus Snow ♡

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | pinv sex, mirror sex-ish if you squint, dub con if you squint, overstimulation if you squint, face riding, creampie, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), snow is his own warming, dom sub undertones, reader has ear piercings, degradation, hints of a toxic relationship, impact play (spanks your ass a few times), dumbfication if you squint, low-key soft! Snow in the beginning | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow! x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Coriolanus Snow gives you a reward by being gentle af and then by being a mean animal (kinda) dnsjsk🤭

⇢☾A/N: it's 3:00 am and i need to sleep, i thought about Snow taking off my heels after a gala and this was born <3

< arranged marriage m.list > < tag list > < masterlist >

Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman but he wasn't gentle. Perhaps this was an alternative universe, a fever dream but you couldn't believe what was happening right now in front of your eyes. Your pupils were in shock, your palms were sweating as you continued to take in the sight.

The sight of Snow being on his knees as he unclasps the belts of your uncomfortable heels. You swallow, “Coryo, you don't have to” but his head tilts up and his eyes are still his. Blue, cold, empty, and never ending like the ocean. A calmness washed over you, the look in his eyes proof enough that this was one of his many tricks to keep you satisfied and happy and you have to indulge him in it.

So you let him gently take off your shoes and set them aside. You await his further actions and let out a soft, small moan as his lips pressed to one of your knees. His mouth keeps pressing wet kisses up to your upper thigh, leaving behind a trail of his saliva on your skin.

This was a reward. Coriolanus was so proud of his pretty and smart wife today. You behaved accordingly in the gala tonight, letting him take the credit for your ideas. You understood your duties and that's why this is one of the few times Coryo will ever kneel for or be this gentle. It's a thank you he can't voice so he does it by his actions.

His lips find themselves kissing inside your inner thigh now, gently nipping the skin as you let out needy mewls. He could see the wet spot forming in your panties and felt the usual pride in his mind bloom. Only he could have you wet so easily and damn, if that didn't skyrocket his ego.

He kissed the wet spot, the juices now glistening onto his pink lips and he pulled back. You whimper as he does, and he wants to coo at you and tease you for being a greedy pet. But he doesn't, it's a reward after all.

He stood up and pressed a kiss to your forehead before his hand grabbed the box of make-up wipes. You still hadn't said a word, letting him do his thing. He gently wiped the makeup off your face, clearing you of the chemicals he hated but you had to apply them to stay in fashion.

His fingers then gently take off the earrings you had worn, and then one by one all the rings you had except the wedding ring of course. His touch had lingered during all of those actions, making your body heat up and your panties soaked. Soft sighs escape you as he continues to adore you in such a gentle manner. As if you're made of the most precious diamond but easily breakable without care.

That's what he might have thought of you. So damn important to his sanity but any action of yours can damn him to hell. A risk, a liability to everything he has. But in his mind, you're worth it all and he has done every single scenario where things can go wrong, so many sleepless nights dedicated to these thoughts.

Snow lands on top.

Nothing you can do can mess him up, nothing. He makes sure of it with his every living breath. It's the reason he can spoil you like this, be a deserving man to his wife otherwise Coriolanus Snow is a monster (and you know that and accept him anyway).

He unzips your dress, his lips now pressing a heated kiss to your nape as his fingertips trace your bare skin. His touch was cold as ice, the heat of your body cooling down to his touch. It gave you relief momentarily but it was clear that you wanted more. The whimper that left your mind as he unclasped your bra was enough proof of that.

With your breasts set free from their confines, Corio’s hands begin to knead your soft tits. His eyes look into the mirror as he watches himself message your soft breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples making the sensitive pebbles hard. He rolls the buds, playing with them until you moan, your body flushing with lust in your veins. You begin to rub your thighs, getting desperate for any sort of friction but you force yourself to stop as he tsks near your ear.

“Don't, doll,” he whispered as one of his hands began the journey of going down on your body, the heat of his palm onto your tummy and then so close to your clothed pussy. “Spread,” he commands and you follow without embarrassment or hesitation.

Your soaked panties come into your view through the mirror and you want to look away from the shyness you still had but didn't. Instead, a whine escapes your lips that makes Coriolanus chuckle. “Such a needy pet. I will take care of you, darling. No need to worry.”

You moan as he refers to you as darling for the first time. Your cunt clenching desperately around nothing as your mind gets dizzy. There was something about how he had said it. Soft and warm, his voice dipping a bit lower as he pronounced the letters and it was tinged with a feeling he wouldn't associate himself with.

Love.

You whimper, “Please” and he hushes you as his fingers snap the band of your panties before he dips a single finger onto your wet folds. He smirks, his face looking into the mirror to gaze into your glazed eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered and you didn't bother to take offense, his words turning you on as much as his finger circling on your clit was.

A broken moan escapes as his fingers decide to pinch the sensitive nub, and he coats his fingers with your juices. A string of sticky white cream on his digits as he takes his hand out of your panties and places his covered fingers inside the wet carven of his mouth. He expertly sucks clean of his fingers, popping them out of his mouth with an obscene sound.

He smirks to himself as he relishes the taste of you. His. Just his you were. He leaves you there, alone on the chair as he walks to the bed. He wasn't wearing anything except for his pants. His suit and shirt were taken off earlier.

You waited for his further command as he got himself comfortable on the bed. “Come here,” he said and you listen. You take off your wet panties and let them stay ruined on the floor as you practically crawl to Coryo. You straddle him and wait some more.

He doesn't say anything, his face blank but his sky-blue eyes heated. His hands were on your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there, making sure to grip you tight enough to mark you.

His tongue comes out to wet his rather dried lips. Your breath hitches as you see it and the sight of you being so affected by such a simple action made him feel like a. . . Lord.

He doesn't say anything, but did he need to? You knew him all too well, so you don't question yourself as you begin to move. The new position had you gripping the headboard while his hands shamelessly groped your ass, even occasionally giving small sharp slaps onto the flesh, making it red. It was simply another way of marking you.

Meanwhile, your eyes were closed, your mind forgetting about the existence of reality as his hot breath hit your glistening folds and made you quiver. “Go ahead,” he permits you.

Not even a second later, you begin to ride his face. He groans as his lips meet with your cunt. His tongue begins with broad, messy strokes of your pussy, gathering as much as your juices possible. All the while your eyes roll back and you moan. A sharp slap on the flesh of your ass has you grinding yourself onto his face. His nose nudged your sensitive, swollen clit perfectly as his tongue continued to swirl and flick around your cunt with calculated broad strokes that made you whine his name.

Soon his mouth finds your clit and begins to relentlessly suck your bundle of nerves. You cry out, pleading that this is too much and you can't- can't take it! But your begging was unheard and your pleas turned into louder moans, whimpers for pleas, and more. His sucking gets harsher and the overstimulation makes your mind reel. The warmth that was gathering in your lower body begins to spread all over, turning your bones to jelly and your mind to nothing as you cum onto his face. The rolls of your hips slowly as he continues to lap at all the cream released and your pussy keeps on spasming.

Your mind wanted more so you decided to take more. You had understood this was a reward for being good. So you can be a bit bad for now. So despite his grunt of displeasure as you get off his face, you quickly find yourself getting rid of his remaining clothes.

His cock was hard, the red tip angry and gleaming with pre-cum that coated most of his length. The sight had you salivating. Coryo knew you were nothing more than a cockdrunk slut and he called you that, you feel yourself glow from his words, not finding the word even a little bit degrading.

“I love you,” you mumbled as you lowered yourself onto his cock with a wanton moan echoing through the room. He groans, “Fuck yourself good, pet. You're in charge of your pleasure tonight. Go ahead, dove.”

“Yes, Coryo,” you whine as you feel yourself full of his cock. You felt yourself squeezing his thick length, a gasp escaping you as you tried to get used to his cock without being prepped. A groan could be heard as he felt his dick getting squeezed by your wet, tight cunt.

He wants to fuck into you and he almost does. But Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman and a gentleman kept his word. Especially when he can see his wife looking so fucking pretty being fucked out from his cock merely twitching inside her walls.

“Begin,” he demands, his voice haughty and filled with lust but you weren't ready. However, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You begin to rock your hips, slowly at first, you let yourself savor the action of his cock grinding against every hidden pleasure spot inside of your cunt. You moan as your pussy takes his cock deeper until his tip is pressed right against your g-spot making you see stars. You begin to grind back and forth so he keeps hitting that spot, you begin to sweat, your thighs clenching, and you couldn't keep focus as pleasure feels your every vein and his cock making you dumb. Simple actions seemed impossible to you and you wanted to beg him to take over, to make you cum again and again until you were broken.

He was unaware of your turmoil, his eyes onto the sight where his cock meets with your cunt, the combined fluid of his pre-cum and your slick dripping down onto his skin. The sight was filthy and he loved it. He clenched his jaw, trying so hard to be a patient gentleman to his wife.

He treated this like a test against himself because he knew what you did to his self-control. You aren't going to win this, he's not going to let go. He will not fuck into you like an animal, he refused to.

But was it losing when you were out of it like this? As if you were truly nothing but a dumb slut who just needs to cum. He decided that this wasn't a loss, but a win. He was doing you a favor when his hips began to snap upwards, his cock thrusting inside of you faster than the pace you had set. It was a pity that he felt so that's why he went back to his words. He was in control of your pleasure and he always will be. Self-control had nothing to do with it, he told himself.

You scream out in pleasure as several spanks are delivered onto your ass, turning the flesh red. It was clear that you liked the sting because of how tightly your pussy suffocated his dick after each slap. ‘Fucking whore of a wife’, he thought. He doesn't voice his thoughts but merely grins at the sight of tears filling your eyes. His dick twitched, an indication of being close.

However, he had to make you cum on his cock first. His hips begin to rut in faster into you, his hands holding you down as he thrusts in faster and harder. His dick kissing all of your hidden spots you didn't even know existed, his cock was perfect.

All you could do was take and take the reward he was giving you. Tears of satisfaction fell down your cheeks and it nourished his pride. You begin to ramble as you get closer to the edge. You ramble about how perfect he is, how much you love him, and fuck you can't think- you can't think. He is perfect, perfect, perfect.

Each of your praises makes him fuck you harder, deeper, a thrust so deep that his cockhead kissed your cervix making you gasp from a hint of pain and a hundredfold of pleasure. You begin to cum, and he shallowly thrusts into your cunt as you ride out your high. Your pussy spasms continuously around his cock as you cry out from being overwhelmed.

“That's a good girl,” he coos at you, “that's my girl.” You whine, your mind unable to process his words. You couldn't even sit up anymore, your body falling onto his. He wraps his arms around you, caging you to him. “My perfect wife,” he whispered as he continues to fuck into you despite your protests of being too much.

He doesn't listen to your pleas, his reward for you ultimately was his cum. Now he can't stop until he finds release himself, otherwise, how would you get your gift, right?

So he continues and it doesn't take more than a few minutes to fuck his thick, hot load into your womb. You whimper as his cock slips out and sighs in relief. You were in his arms and will be so for the rest of the night.

Coriolanus Snow wondered briefly if you liked your reward if not, well you have full access to his credit cards.

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[catcze]

While you were both dancing around... whatever kind of relationship you have, you had become intimately familiar with the fact that Wriothesley loved to call you terms of endearment. From anyone else, you'd gag and cringe at the cheesiness of the pet names, but somehow Wriothesley just made them work. Even some of the most cliche ones ever— My Heart. Love. Amour.

You had just been getting used to it, had just been getting used to fighting down the unbidden curl of your lips whenever he calls you by these names, when he decided to change things up a little.

"Hey, mon cœur, come take a look at this for a sec," Wriothesley says easily, barely even looking up from the newspaper in his hand. You, however, stop in your tracks.

Mon cœur. My love. Mine.

You're not entirely sure when Wriothesley started adding 'my' to the beginning of each of his cheesy little pet names, but you can't deny that every time you hear it, it sends you into a flustered little tizzy. You try to beat back the flutter of the butterflies in your stomach, try to fight down the heat that finds itself at your neck and the tips of your ears. Goodness, you have to will yourself not to hide your face in your hands, if only because that would make your predicament that much more obvious to him.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the very object of your embarrassment stands before you, his hand light on your shoulder. His brows are furrowed in concern, the back of his hand already raised to your forehead in a soft touch as if to check for a fever.

"Are you alright?" he asks, other arm holding you steady. You need the support, but not for the reasons he might think.

“Yeah— yeah,” you say, trying to shake yourself out of it. Trying to banish the thought of him calling you my love for the sake of your own sanity. “Yeah, I’m fine, no need to worry.”

“You sure? You’ve been kind of out of it recently.”

You gulp, gaze unsubtly trying to drift away. For a second you debate between being honest and merely shelving the topic for another time, but... something about his concern makes you want to dissuade his worries, even at the cost of your own pride.

Painstakingly, you try to clear your throat. “Yeah, I just…the… the pet names, they…”

Wriothesley raises a brow, blinking for just a second before a smug, pleased little grin finds its way onto his lips. “Oh? You mean, the little additions I added to them?” And when you only nod once, unable to look him in the eye despite how physically close you both are, his grin widens.

For the sake of your dignity, your racing heart and the steady heat crawling up your face, you wish that he’d give the teasing a break, but instead Wriothesley comes closer half a step, wraps both arms around you and leans down close enough that you can see the way the blue in his eyes shifts with the light.

“Does it get you all flustered when I call you mine, mon cœur?” He practically purrs, just to prove a point. It makes you swallow heavily, makes you want to smack him out of sheer embarrassment.

You do, in fact, try to slap him on the chest but he just laughs like it was nothing— curse him and his muscles.

But he manages to catch your hand by the wrist before you can draw it back, placing a sweet kiss on the back of your hand, and you come undone.

He holds your hand tenderly, his arm still wrapped around you, keeping you cradled against his chest

"You know," Wriothesley admits softly, leaning close and keeping his voice low, like it's a secret he wants to share only with you. His smile is boyish. Cute. Filled to the brim with affection and honey. "I'm actually really happy that you like it, because I really like thinking that I'm yours, too."

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝚄𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚑𝚊 𝚂𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎 - 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

Ft Aquarium|Enclosure; ft tail, teeth + claws, claiming|mating(heavy mentions of future claiming), knotting, kind of insinuation of Size Kink??, cunnilingus, bit of pervy!Sasuke, breeding, creampie

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Naruto or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 7,648

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes Human/non-human romance/sex, minimal use of Y/n, 3rd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Merman Sasuke Merman Sasuke Merman Sasuke Merman- get ready for some Sasuke fish dick(with a knot 😏),,, HOLY FUCK Y’all it took me over 3 weeks to finish this fucking chapter. Longest chapter thus far and probably the longest chapter in this whole damn book- My brain is fried. Istg I’m gonna be recovering from this one for d a y s.

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

Sasuke swam to the edge of his tank and rested his arms on the edge, resting his chin on his crossed forearms, staring at his caretaker through the open separations of his shelter and the next one over. She always wore simple clothes overtop of her swimsuit which consisted of a skirt and a translucent long-sleeved crop top. She cycled through swimsuits, sometimes wearing one that showed off her midriff. Sometimes one that covered everything up to a high neck. Occasionally she would wear one that dipped deliciously low into her cleavage. Then, on special days she’d even wear a 2 piece.

Today she wore a new one. It was a new two-piece with a simple high hip bikini bottom. It had a tie-back wrap cross-style top with two straps that crisscrossed over her ribs and tied together in the back that showed off the centre underside of her breasts. As she bent down to grab the bucket of food for his neighbors, the Aquatic Water Serpents, he saw how tightly her swimsuit clung to her body.

More specifically, he saw how tightly it clung to her cunt and ass as her skirt lifted up enough it was entirely on display. He bit his lip at the sight and he felt his cock stirring in its sheath. He waited patiently, though. He’s her last stop for the day so he always gets to spend the most time with her.

He could wait. She was on her second to last stop anyhow. She scritched under the serpent’s chin and smiled at the youngling before heading off.

“Be good for Iruka, little one!” She cheerfully called back to all the hatchlings and closed the separation before heading to the one that led to the last Silvertip Shark Mer. The rest of his kind had been either poached or fallen victim to his elder brother who had been sent into a cannibalistic frenzy before he regained his sanity long enough to see what he had done and sacrificed himself to the poachers who stayed circling their cove.

The Search and Rescue facility he was currently residing in, Konoha, had found him as a pup and had taken him in. Apparently, they searched for another of his species, hoping to find a female, but couldn’t find even a sign of them. He didn’t mind, not in the slightest. So long as he could appreciate the beauty of his caretaker day after day, he was certainly happy. Of course, he would love to do more than just look at her, but he could wait. Luckily, though, it seemed he didn’t have to wait much longer from the conversation he’d overheard the night before.

The Research team that was tasked with replenishing extant species, particularly ones that they could not find viable mates, like Sasuke, had seemingly made a discovery.

‘We found something groundbreaking, Ma’am! It means that we can replenish the Silvertip Mers’ Species without needing a female Silvertip.’

‘Well, what are you waiting for, Shizune?! What did you find?’

‘It seems because Mers share nearly 50% of their DNA with humans, they can breed with Humans. Though that means it’s about a 50/50 chance if the offspring comes out as a Human or a Mer, though it seems it would be like any other Parent-to-Child Genetic Trait, one child could come out as Human but the next could be a Mer, it just depends on which DNA prevails.’

‘That’s perfect, Shizune. Now we just need to find a viable candidate. If the Silvertip mating process is anything like our other Shark Mer species, we should present multiple candidates and see if he takes a liking to any of them.’

‘Yes, Ma’am! I’ll start compiling a list right away!’

He smirked at the memory and swam to meet Y/n, his Minnow as he had donned her, at the edge of his tank. She pulled the separation closed for the evening as she entered.

“Good afternoon, Sasuke. How are you feeling today?” Y/n had her wonderful smile as she always did when she greeted him. Sasuke always liked to think that it was different from the smiles she would give to the other Mers she took care of.

“Spectacular now that you’re here,” He smirked up at her as she giggled at his flirting.

“Well, I am very happy to see you, too. I’m always glad that you’re my last stop of the day.” She smiled kindly at him and as much as he didn’t want to fully admit it, it made his heart skip a beat.

“Well, have you heard the news?” He had to stop himself from jumping on her that very moment as he spoke.

“Oh? What news, pray tell?”

“Seems they found a way to repopulate my species even though they couldn’t find a female.” A huge grin split across her face at the news and set the bucket of feed down beside her.

“Sasuke! That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!!” She called, leaning down and hugging him around his shoulders.

“Believe me, not as happy as I am…” He smirked as he slid his hands around her frame to return the hug, though he made sure to place his hands down low enough to finger at the edges of her bikini bottom’s leg seams. She pulled back from the hug but his arms only shifted to stay resting around her hips. His fingers still lightly toyed with the seams and he was only spurred on by how she didn’t seem to mind.

“So, how are they gonna do it? Artificial Womb? Another species of Shark that’s compatible?” She questioned happily, innocently.

“They figured out that I can mate with and breed a human. So they’re finding me a suitable mate. It’s still a 50/50 chance, like most other kinds of genes, if it’ll be a Mer or a Human. At least that’s what they think. They don’t exactly have a bunch of research to go off of to see whose genes might be stronger. Yet, at least.” He chuckled at his implications that made her blush. “I imagine they’ll have plenty of research by the end of this, though, since as of right now, it’s my job to repopulate my whole species.” Even with his hope and excitement to finally have the opportunity to breed and possibly even claim the caretaker that he’d been watching and yearning for since day one, he let out a rueful chuckle at the reason he even had this responsibility in the first place.

The— rather oblivious— subject of his affections sent him a small, sad smile to soothe him and immediately her kindness brought him back. It reminded him why he liked her in the first place— other than her magnificent body that was practically on display for him day after day in her little swimsuits. He returned a cocky smile and leaned closer to her, his form leaned in enough that she was forced to open her legs to let him settle between them. She still didn’t seem to see anything off about the position even when Sasuke took a deep breath through his nose. He could smell her cunt so close to him and he felt the supple skin of her ass where his fingers dipped under her swimsuit.

He decided to be bold and flexed his fingers to gently knead at the flesh, wiggling his fingers deeper into her suit. Subconsciously, she moved her thighs to try and close around him, just a bit, but it was enough to spur him on.

“I have an idea of a good mate candidate, though. In fact, I’d rather like it to be her. Even if she’s not on the list, I might even request her.” He spoke with a sultry tone, lids hanging low as he let his gaze slide over her form, taking in the swell of her tits in the tight-fitting swim top, up her neck, lingering on the empty canvas of her shoulders and neck, lingering for only a moment on her lips, before meeting her eyes once again.

He was instantly taken aback by the look in her eyes. She tried to hide it but her eyes had always been unwittingly expressive. Especially to Sasuke, he could tell how she was feeling with but a glance even as she did her best to disguise it with a contrasting expression. Even with the happy smile she had on, her eyes shone with a quiet disappointment. Just moments before, before he let his gaze wander over her body, she was truly happy for him and the situation. Happy that he could rebuild his species and bring it back from the brink of extinction.

“What’s wrong, Minnow?” He asked gently, delicately rubbing his thumb over the space where her hips met her ass.

“What? Nothing! Don’t worry!” She tried to smile reassuringly but her eyes still gave her away.

“Minnow, don’t lie to me. You know that I know when you don’t tell me the truth.” His voice turned just the slightest bit stern, just to encourage her to tell the truth. And it worked, her fake smile dropped and she bit her lip nervously with a defeated sigh, averting her gaze to the edge of his tank that still had tooth-shaped dents from when he first arrived as a scared pup, nervous around humans.

“I… I dunno.. I guess I’m kinda.. I dunno, something about you liking someone…” She trailed off and muttered something under her breath that even he couldn’t catch with his impeccable hearing.

“What was that?” He leaned in, head slightly turned to bring his frilled ear closer to her.

“Someone… Someone else…” She muttered again, this time just barely loud enough for him to hear.

“That I like someone else? What do you mean, Minnow?” He had immediately put it together and figured out what she meant. Elation filled his entire being at the revelation that she liked him, too. But he absolutely could not pass up a chance to tease her. It was immediately rewarding when her face flushed with heat and her facial muscles tensed in a way that indicated just how embarrassed she was.

“I-I.. Well.. I mean… It’s just that… Uhm…” She stuttered out, not able to get a single coherent sentence out. If he hadn’t absolutely loved teasing her and flustering her beyond belief, Sasuke would have been pained by the awkward sight. Taking mercy on her when it started to seem like she’d rather be anywhere but there, he put a stop to her sputtering by pushing forward and silencing her with his lips on hers.

She was stunned and frozen, eyes wide and calculating. He pulled back and looked at her with an amused smirk, a brow quirked as if silently asking ‘Do you get it now?’ She remained frozen for a moment, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“I-I… What? But… what about who you li-?” He cut her off with a flick to the forehead and a scoff whilst she yelped at the sudden feeling.

“Dummy. I was talking about you.” Sasuke said with an eye roll, still quite amused at her oblivion. Her eyes widened with the revelation and lit up with joy. Before he could tease her again, she launched forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him into a deep kiss as she was too stunned to return the first one. With the sudden movement, Sasuke was forced to pull his hands away from her ass to stabilize them before she fell into his tank with the force that she shot forward. He wrapped a strong arm around her middle and grabbed onto the edge of the platform to hold them in place.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm and hummed against her lips as he hoisted her back onto the edge where she was sat. Eventually, she had to pull away for air but kept her arms around him and their foreheads nearly rested against each other.

“So… What do you say, Minnow?” He asked with a husky purr in his voice. Her eyes were glued to his lips, a haze around her mind after a kiss like that.

“Wha..?” He smirked teasingly at her and lifted his hand from around her to lightly grip her chin. Forcing her to look at him, she finally seemed to return to the moment, though she still looked vaguely confused.

“About the scientists’ little discovery?” He reminded her, his Minnow’s eyes lit up with recognition before her cheeks flushed with searing heat.

“I- uhm.. I really.. really like the sound of it…” Her blush somehow increased as her voice trailed off, though he heard her just fine. His sharp teeth peak out when he grins wolfishly at her.

“Well, then. Since I’ve already decided who I want my partner to be, might as well get started, right?” His words were husky with veiled excitement and sent a shiver down her spine, but she still managed to nod bashfully. She quickly glanced back at the separation to make sure it was closed before she carefully scooted towards the edge, making sure that she wouldn’t fall in. Willingly and consciously, she opened her legs even more, a clear invitation. Happy with her compliance, he hoisted himself up and slotted where his fleshy upper half met his scaly tail against her hips with his face just an inch or two above hers.

Without wasting a second, he dipped down to capture her lips again as he ground his genital slit against her awaiting, though clothed, sex. Shifting his weight onto one hand, he moved his other to the hem of her swimsuit bottoms just next to her wet pussy. His clawed fingers teased at the edge, never quite dipping in. He positioned his hand to fan his four fingers over the top of the inside of her thigh, his thumb at the hem. The tip of his finger, careful of his claw, lightly traced the sensitive skin just under it, teasing her even more. She whined into his mouth and just as he began the motion to give in and slide his thumb under the fabric and reach her weeping little cunt, the separation loudly slid open, announcing the arrival of someone else.

The two pulled apart in a panic, though the damage was already done. Whoever had walked in had caught them, though even if they hadn’t, the flushed faces and the way her thighs clamped together like a steel trap would have given them away.

“Well!” Tsunade declared with a single loud clap of her hands. “That makes things easier!” She approached the edge of the pool, pointedly ignoring that she had almost caught the two in the middle of his fingers buried in her cunt had she walked in even a minute later. “Sasuke, I have news for you. We found a way that you can-” She began, about to go on a long-winded speech about their discovery.

“Save my species. Yea. You and your assistant aren’t exactly the most quiet, y’know.” Sasuke cut her off and grumbled, clearly less than pleased that he had been interrupted. Tsunade looked surprised for only a moment before her mind caught up with the events. Sasuke knew about the discovery— that he could breed a human— and he had clearly chosen his future mate and he was ready to get started with the whole process. Perfect.

“Well! In that case, it would be in the best interest of the Research Team to watch you in the act, to help with future cases like this one, and to learn more about your species.” She explained, not leaving room for debate. Great. First, they got interrupted, now they have to wait for those Science Nerds to show up, and they’ll have an audience. Well, That last one Sasuke didn’t mind as much. He could show off that his little Minnow was his. They could watch as he bred her good and full, stuffing her with his cum and plugging her up with his knot to make sure that it took. To make sure that she’d be full with his offspring.

To his— and his Minnow’s— pleasure, it didn’t take too long for the rest of the Research Team to show up. At first, it made her flustered and shy but she was quickly distracted when Sasuke pulled himself back up between her thighs, level with her face.

“Don’t worry about them, ‘kay? Just focus on me. Focus on how I’m gonna breed you full…” His husky voice growled, nosing at the underside of her jaw. He nipped lightly at the skin there and reveled in the tremor it sent through her, even moreso the sweet gasped little moan she rewarded him with.

She nodded and turned her head towards him to recapture his lips. With a pleased rumble, he intertwined their tongues and nipped at her bottom lip with his sharp teeth. His Minnow hummed into the kiss and wrapped her legs around his hips. Gladly, he began grinding against her and appreciated the slickness that was dampening her swimsuit bottoms and soaking through onto his genital slit. They felt the eyes of the Research Team but chose to focus on each other instead. At least, she did. Sasuke kept an acute awareness of them watching them, watching him take what he wanted, what he had been wanting for months.

He reveled in her little moans that he captured with his lips, muffling her even more with his tongue invading further into her mouth. He shifted his weight onto one arm again and quickly moved back to the position he had been in when Tsunade walked in. His fingers toyed at the edge of her swimsuit then switched directions to rub his fingertips over the growing wet spot on the fabric, coating his fingers and claws in her slickness. He hummed against her neck and nibbled the skin to leave a mark on her skin. Gods, he wanted to mark her so badly. Wanted to claim her and make her his forever after but he supposed that would have to wait until after he bred her full.

That was a very efficient claim in its own right. Her moans flowed freely into the air as she tossed her head back and gave him more space to mark up and lave over with his long, rough tongue. He couldn’t wait anymore, he decided, and shifted his hand to the edge of her bottoms again, deftly wiggling under the seam and reaching her bare cunt. She let out a squeak at the sudden, though very much not unwelcome, intrusion, his fingers directly stimulating the sensitive skin.

“Sa-Sasuke…” She whimpered, suddenly aware of how empty she felt, her wet hole spasming around nothing.

“My good little Minnow…” He hummed and pressed kisses down the column of her throat until he reached the top of her translucent coverup. He quietly growled at the layer of separation and reluctantly pulled his hand away from her dripping cunt to rip through the thin material with his claws, eliciting a gasp from his girl. He didn’t pay attention to the little pout she sent him, though he did silently appreciate it, making a mental note to make her do it again.

Quickly enough, he hesitated for only a moment about tearing her bathing suit since it made her tits look so pretty. He compromised with himself to tug at the crisscross straps showing off her cleavage first, watching the way it shifted her breasts and made them jiggle when he released it. He tugged the fabric down over her tit slightly and shifted his hold to cup her breast and manually pull it out the rest of the way, seeing the way her nipple stiffened in the cold air. Only then, after appreciating the sight and locking it in place in his memory, did he hook his clawed finger into the strap once again and snapped it easily enough, letting it unravel until it hung loosely around her neck, the bottom half falling to the ground behind her back with her coverup top.

“Sasuke!” She yelped, “I could have just untied it you know!” She huffed, making him chuckle at her.

“But where’s the fun in that, Minnow?” He teased, cutting off any more complaints by dipping his head to take a nipple into his mouth, swirling his long tongue around the hardened bud.

“Should we prompt him to get to the actual mating? Or-” A member of the Research Team spoke up, sounding flustered at just watching the foreplay.

“No. Let it happen naturally, we would only rush the process if it was detrimental to getting it done as quickly as possible. That would be more likely with a female specimen since most species’ females have only a short fertile period. Males are usually constantly fertile unless they lose potency with old age, but with Sasuke, we clearly don’t have to worry about that. Leave him be.” Shizune reprimanded him, cutting him off sharply and trying to keep her voice down to prevent disturbing Sasuke.

He appreciated the thought but couldn’t resist the eye roll at their discussion, talking like he wasn’t even actually there. He must have accidentally released an unconscious growl because his sweet little Minnow reached her arms up to hold him, tangling her fingers into his hair, encouraging him to switch his attention fully on her again. He sent a grateful look up to her and pressed a soft kiss to her breast before he lowered himself further into the water, moving his hands to hold both of her thighs.

At first, she was confused until he pushed her skirt further up to her hips and tugged at the waistband of her suit bottoms, generously offering her to not rip them to shreds. She let out a breathy chuckle and leaned back on her hands to lift her hips for him. Before he pulled them off, he pressed a kiss to her clothed core, sending a jolt of electricity up her spine. She whimpered when he pulled away, taking her bottoms with her, exposing her dripping cunt to the cold evening air.

He smirked at her reaction and didn’t give her time to readjust before he dove in and shoved his face between her thighs. He lapped at her cunt hungrily and sucked headily on her clit. Immediately, the sensations had her squirming and whining, her hands buried in his hair, unsure if she wanted to push him closer or tug him away from the immense pleasure almost immediately overwhelming her senses. Sasuke hummed appreciatively at the taste of his little Minnow. She really lived up to her name with the way he was devouring her. The slurping sounds resounded all around the shelter around his pool and filled the ears of his good little Minnow, Tsunade, Shizune, and the rest of the Research Team. Most of them shifted in their seats, unsure if they were aroused or envious. A mix of both, they decided.

Letting up on the suction on her clit, he dipped his head down to wiggle his tongue into her, squirming against all the sensitive spots in her cunt. He replaced the stimulation on her clit with his thumb, pressing on it and rubbing rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensations overwhelming her cunt before she could even adjust to the temperature had cries of pleasure soaring out of her throat into the air. When his tongue shifted in just the right way, in just the right spots and his thumb teasing her clit with just the right pressure, she couldn’t hold back the scream of ecstasy or the sharp tug of his long hair as she creamed around his tongue, her juices flowing into his mouth as he kept up his movements. He moaned against her and happily swallowed her liquid pleasure.

He kept lapping at her cunt until she was practically sobbing and pulling at his hair to escape the overstimulation. Granting her mercy, he finally pulled away and pressed an apologetic kiss to her inner thigh, though she could tell he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. She panted to regain her breath from the way her powerful orgasm pulled the air from her lungs. In a soothing motion, Sasuke gently pulled himself up and pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat, stroking over her thigh until she could breathe regularly again. Then, with a deep kiss full of tongue and teeth and passion, he slotted his hips against hers with his member free.

The slick appendage wiggled in the cool evening air in search of warmth to bury itself in. She hummed into his mouth when the narrowed tip stroked over her glistening pussy lips. She was still sensitive from the orgasm he’d wrenched from her but the want to be filled up overpowered the overwhelm of it. Sasuke smirked against her lips and separated their kiss with a trail down to her jaw, then to her neck, then to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. The empty plot of skin was so tantalizing and his teeth ached with the want- the need to sink his teeth into her and fully claim her. Mark her as his.

That’ll have to wait, he reminded himself. Now’s not the time to focus on that. Now is the time to breed her greedy little pussy. Fill her up with pups and keep on filling her up, over and over again. She’s a good little girl, so eager for being knotted and bred. She’ll be an even better little mate, he encouraged himself in his mind to wait just a little longer. Just a bit longer and she’d be his good little mate. First, he had to thoroughly breed her tight little cunt. With that thought in mind, he pushed forward, pressing his length closer to her entrance. His long, slimy tongue laved over her skin as he nibbled and sucked on the skin to leave little marks that would satisfy his urge to claim her for now.

“Fu-u-uck, Sasuke..!” She called, circling her hips to try and coax his cock into her. When it didn’t work at first, she wrapped her legs around his form and pulled him closer, her one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other working with his to hold them steadily on the edge to not fall in. His other hand still kneaded at her thigh and precisely dug his thumb into the flesh to coax it more open to her pretty little pussy.

“Don’t worry, Minnow, I’ve got you.” He muttered against her flesh before he pulled back to rest his forehead against her shoulder to look down at where they would soon be connected. Looking past her tantalizing tits, he watched as his member squirmed against her, sliding through her folds in search of her greedy hole. Finally, it caught on the edge of the convulsing muscles and immediately began slithering in. The Research Team all jolted to lean forward when she sharply inhaled a gasp. The guy from before seemed the most interested. He was leaned forward the most and his gaze was heavy. The way he stared so intently made a fire burn in Sasuke. It was a mix of jealousy and pride, though it was more cockiness than pride, really.

It infuriated him that someone would look that intently at his mate, especially when she was so vulnerable. So exposed. His instincts yelled at him to cover her whole body with his own, even pull her into the water away from prying eyes but logic, thankfully, won out knowing that it would be dangerous as his little Minnow, despite her nickname couldn’t breathe underwater. Yet, he reminded himself, once she was good and full with his pups and claimed, her body would undergo changes to properly care for the pups for the chances that it was a mer. The cockiness reinforced his reasoning, as well. The cockiness that cried out in pride that she was his mate. That the bastard could look all he wanted but his good little Minnow was his to touch. His to hold. His to pleasure and enjoy.

Nonetheless, the mer lowly growled from where his head rested on his little mate’s shoulder, side-eyeing a glare at the man with a cocky smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth. The hand around his shoulders slid up to his hair and gently carded through it, soothing him back to the moment where he was about to fuck her senseless. Almost immediately, a low rumbling emanated from his chest, it was almost like a purr. With a shocked giggle bubbling from his Minnow’s throat, Sasuke quickly diverted her thoughts to her throbbing core once again when he quickly canted his hips into hers.

The gasp she let out was rewarding and had him rumbling deeply in satisfaction. He buried himself to the hilt and stayed there for a moment to let her adjust. He knew he was larger than most human males— a fact that filled him with pride— and that his phallus was greatly different from them, shape, texture, and mobility-wise. His cock squirmed inside her, satisfied with the heat, and moved in search of her pleasure spots. His instincts led him to wanting to pleasure his partner just as much, if not more, than the pleasure he received. His instincts knew that if his partner orgasmed it heightened the chances of his seed taking. As if he needed any help. His species’ seed was very potent and his thick, firm knot would keep his mate plugged up to ensure that none of his seed leaked and lessened the chances of impregnation, even if only by a fraction. With the stream of sharp, almost surprised moans and gasps coming from his mate, he could tell his phallus was doing its job.

“F-fuck- Sasuke- Sasuke, please~!” She whined, burying her hand firmly in his locks, though not tugging. Her incoherent plea was enough for him to comply and rest enough weight on the hand planted on the firm round behind her to easily use his other hand, wrapped around her hip with a tight grip, to move his hips back. The water rippled behind him and splashed quickly up against the corner wall of his pool and hitting the backs of her thighs and the top of his tail as he snapped his hips forward again. He did this a few more times, slowly pulling out until only his wriggling tip stayed inside her wet heat and thrusting his hips forward quickly and powerfully. He tried to keep up the teasing pace but he couldn’t take it anymore.

He needed to breed her. Breed her tight little pussy. Fill her up with cum and make her belly swell with his young. With surprising speed, he set a bruising pace and filled her clenching walls with his wriggling cock over and over again. He could hear the Research Team mumbling amongst themselves, comparing notes or some shit that he couldn’t bring himself to care about but the noise itself was enough to ignite his possessiveness. The hand planted on the ground clenched and scratched at the cement. His sharp claws dug into the hard surface and scraped deep lines into it, taking the rubble with it. His other hand gripped tighter and ended up ripping her skirt where it rested around her hips. He paid little mind to it— as did his good girl— and simply kept up with his pace, though he vaguely recognized that the material was essentially unsalvageable with tearing it so much whilst it was bunched up the way it was. With a growl and a fire lit in his eyes, he smashed his lips against his Minnow’s and claimed her mouth all over again. His tongue delved deep enough to almost choke her. She didn’t gag but her throat lightly convulsed against the foreign feeling before he pulled the appendage back. He only wanted it to be pleasurable for her. No discomfort.

His hips kept up the heavy pace as he buried himself to the hilt again and again. Pulling back from her lips, a thick strand of saliva kept them connected before he leaned back in and licked it away from her kiss-swollen bottom lip. As if on pure instinct, he immediately shifted to her neck and left bites and hickeys on the side he hadn’t yet marked up. All the while, he never relented on his pace, water splashing around him and creating small waves into the rest of the vast water at his back. His member continued to squirm inside her, aiming for each and every one of her pleasure spots and slipping easily into all the nooks and crannies of her inner velvety walls.

Her voice trembled as she cried out in pleasure and shifted her hips to meet his thrusts, subsequently forcing his cock deeper inside her. The pointed tip was forced all the way to her cervix. The wriggling pointed head met her cervix directly, immediately beginning a venture to enter the deepest part of her. Sasuke and Y/n both let out groans of pleasure at the feeling, hers more a surprised noise quickly transformed into a drawn-out whine of bliss while his was one of pure ecstasy at the feeling of claiming his Minnow so deeply. So deep inside her that no one would ever be able to claim her as he had. Not that anyone else would ever get the opportunity to try. No, she was his mate. And he would ensure that her body knew that by thoroughly breeding her over and over again. She would not be without pup for long, breeding her to her heart’s content.

Without much reprieve, Sasuke returned to his brutal pace, jackhammering his hips into hers as he buried his face in her neck. His claws dug heavily into the pavement, cracking it even more with his strength and his other hand kept a bruising grip on her hip, not that she minded the marks it would leave behind. His marks. Her walls fluttered around his cock as he mercilessly pounded into her. Her moans echoed around the walls and went higher in pitch when the cord in her belly was pulled taut again.

“Sasuke- Fuck- Please!” She whined and bucked her hips. The Research Team, from their positions leaning forward to see the pair better, could see his muscles contracting and his hands gripped tighter— though he remained aware and careful with his hold on her flesh. They could tell he was rapidly approaching his climax and they were all on the edge of their seats— literally and figuratively— to see it. His thrusts slowly became sloppier and his grunts and growls became more frequent, his nips at her neck did, too.

What the scientists couldn’t see and his little Minnow hadn’t noticed was the swelling bulge at the base of his wriggling cock. It was stiffer than the rest of his member and steadily grew in size and mass. As his thrusts gained more reckless force and speed it began to catch on the edge of her hole. That made her notice. When she felt the bulging knot catch on her hole a louder moan ripped from her throat. The wide eyes of the Research Team snapped to her and watched her come undone. Her back arched, her toes curled, her nails dug into his shoulder and scratched angsty red lines into the skin, her mouth hung open in a silent scream as she gushed around his member. The convulsing and contracting of her walls around him had Sasuke closer to his own end.

His knot swelled to full size and with a final rough thrust, it pressed hard against her gushing little cunt before it popped inside her. Another wave of ecstasy rushed through her and sent her into another wave of orgasm before her last one even finished. A loud, high-pitched cry escaped into the room and practically vibrated the walls. Her orgasm’s ecstasy lasted for what felt like forever as his white hot seed shot into her. His narrow tip had wiggled past her cervix and sent his cum directly into her womb. His potent seed filled her up and filled her lower belly with delicious warmth that kept her in a state of blissed-out pleasure. She shivered in her fucked out haze as Sasuke filled her up with spurt after spurt of spunk.

“You did so good, Minnow. My good girl, took my cum so fuckin’ well. Gonna be such a good momma.” He purred in her ear, licking the spot just under it.

“Is it done? Did he do it?” The guy spoke lowly to the rest of the Research Team and Y/n and Sasuke barely resisted the urge to roll their eyes.

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say yes.” Tsunade said sarcastically. Sasuke licked at the bites and dark hickeys on his Minnow’s neck and shoulder to soothe any aches and to help the deeper ones heal faster. His member pulsated inside her as he recovered from his powerful orgasm. He had touched himself before to the thought of her but he never could have anticipated just how good she felt around him. He felt like he was in Heaven with her so tightly wrapped around him. Her heat clenching around his cock so snugly.

In the afterglow of their orgasms, Sasuke felt his arm getting tired from holding himself up and his tail aching from exhaustion from thrusting inside his little mate while keeping himself from falling back into the pool. Carefully, he maneuvered her in his hold to gently pull her into the water with him, though making sure they didn’t go under. Her grip on him tightened and her other arm shot to wrap around his shoulders making him chuckle. The deep sound sent a shiver down her spine and a blush to her cheeks as well as a vibration through her body from where their chests were pressed together. As an afterthought, Sasuke quickly discarded the ruined fabric of her skirt to the edge of the tank before he continued on with his movements with her.

“Don’t worry, Minnow.” He cooed to her as he moved to float on the water with her on his chest, slightly swishing his tail to keep them afloat. “I won’t let you fall in. Promise.” He nosed at her temple and pressed a kiss there.

“How do you feel?” Tsunade asked, addressing his little Mate.

“Full. Warm.” She spoke dazedly, snuggling into his chest comfortably.

“Good. From the looks of it, you should be pregnant in no time. We’ll monitor your progress and stats to make sure everything is all good and we’ll set up on-site lodgings for you. Let us know as soon as you find out when you’re pregnant. Since we observed this time, we technically don’t have to observe more of the breeding and mating but if it didn’t take this time, I’d like to observe your next session just to see if there are any differences, if that's okay with you. And, I’d like to ask, is there anything that we didn’t see that happened?” Tsunade inquired, eyes flicking between the couple and her notepad.

“Well.. Right now, we’re stuck.” Sasuke’s little Mate spoke softly, almost unsure.

“‘Stuck’? What do you mean?” Shizune asked, incredibly intrigued.

“I knotted her. We’re tied together until it goes down.” Sasuke spoke up, his voice slightly annoyed like he wanted this to be over and to have time alone with his good little Minnow.

“So you’re species has a knot! Interesting!” She spoke excitedly and quickly scribbled it down in her notepad. Sasuke huffed and nuzzled into his Mate’s hair and inhaled her scent. Her scent, enhanced by the vigorous physical activity and it sent a fuzzy pleasurable haze to his brain that had his chest rumbling with a purr.

“Well, I don’t believe there’s anything else we need to observe, so let’s all head out and leave the couple be. And yes, that means everyone.” Tsunade spoke, adding sharply at the end as her harsh gaze landed on the guy that had been far too invested with the view. Sasuke, glad that the woman had realized their want for privacy, let out a small, quiet sigh of relief and watched them all file out. He glared and bared his teeth at the guy who insisted on leaving last and walked slowly to glance back at them. When he saw the Mer’s expression, he quickly filed out with the others. The raven-haired Mer stroked over his Mate’s bare back and soothed her hip where his grip had surely planted bruises.

“Gonna be such a good momma to our pups. Such a good mate. So so good.” He cooed at her and planted kisses on her face before landing on her lips. It was sweet compared to the rough, lustful, and debauched kisses from not long ago. His cock remained buried inside her with his knot plugging her up to keep his hot cum, his potent seed inside, to make sure she was properly and thoroughly bred. She hummed happily against his lips and relaxed against him as he slowly guided them to the small island trainers coaxed him onto during shows where they could simply rest.

Once they were settled, it didn’t take long for them to drift off, pleasurable heat warming them both and lulling them into a comfortable state. His knot remained full whilst they drifted and stayed as such for a while after they fell asleep. His member easily slipped out of her and back into his sheath once his knot softened enough. They stayed comfortably cuddled together until morning when the sound of the separation sliding open echoed in the otherwise silent area. In walked Shizune with a towel, clothes, and a kind smile as she approached the edge of the pool.

“Good morning. I know your clothes were, unfortunately, damaged,” she sent a teasing look at Sasuke who blushed and looked away with a small ‘hmph’, “so I thought I’d bring you a change of clothes. I’d also like to give you a small physical check-up after last night to make sure everything is all good and dandy. Afterwards, I have breakfast inside for you.” The kind woman spoke gently with a soft gaze.

“Oh, thank you, Miss Shizune! I really appreciate it.” Y/n smiled at her and looked back at Sasuke to silently communicate if it was okay for her to leave for a bit. He wasn’t quite pleased with it but he knew it was more than reasonable. To show his understanding he leaned up and captured her lips sweetly as his hands softly ran over the skin of her back and sides. Carefully, she lifted herself off of him, slightly wincing at the soreness in her hips and between her thighs. Instantly, he moved and held onto her firmly as he maneuvered them both further into the water to swim her back to the edge. Kissing him in silent thanks, she climbed out and accepted the towel with a smile at Shizune.

“See you in a bit, Minnow,” Sasuke said, he rested his chin on his crossed arm on the edge and looked up at her, admiring the view of her naked body. He was so used to staring at her in her cute little swimsuits and just imagining what she would look like without the coverage and actually seeing it was so much better than anything he could have imagined. The planes and curves of her body were so enticing that he knew he would never get tired of seeing her bare like that. Seeing her stomach as she dropped the towel to put on the clothes Shizune brought, he couldn’t wait to see it swell his child, to have physical evidence that she’s his.

“See you soon, love.” She cooed back at him as she pulled the shirt over her head after she buttoned the skirt closed. His whole face perked up at the nickname and he couldn’t stop the purr that erupted from his chest. Chuckling, she kneeled down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before she stood to leave.

Exiting the shelter, she saw that the separation to the Aquatic Water Serpents was open while the morning crew did their rounds and fed the Mers, and performed check-ups if necessary. The younglings were occupied with the feeders and if any of them needed check-ups while Iruka was freely resting in the tank. When he saw her and Shizune passing by he quickly made his way to the edge to get to them.

“Hey.” He got their attention with a hiss, though remained quiet enough to not attract the attention of the younglings, “You’re lucky the younglings were already asleep down in the cove with how loud you were being.” He hissed out with a slight glare with no real heat behind it. Instantly, her face erupted with heat as her eyes widened in mortification. With a shrill whine of embarrassment, she buried her face in her hand with a muffled apology to the serpent. With Sasuke’s separation left open for the morning crew, he heard Iruka’s words and smirked. He was suddenly smug like he had never been before. A cockiness filled his chest as he reveled in the knowledge that he had made his Mate feel so good that she was loud enough to be heard through the walls. Instantly, he made the decision to ensure that he always made her feel that good.

He’d have her screaming his name every time.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

[i-cant-sing]

Thinking about my own grandpa and how he'd comfort me with sweets/icecream whenever i had the slightest inconvenience and i just dream of whether he'd still do it to me as a 23 year old, ruffling my hair, letting me cut his birthday cake, scolding my parents when they got mad at me (yes i snitched on my parents), wiping my fat tears with his handkerchief, showing me his drawings of airplane engines as cold air blasted through the ac, letting me eat food from his plate that my mom made me bring him lol.

and like it grandparents are sooo sweet man. they couldve been okay-ish parents to their own kids, but then they get grandkids and they're like a whole different species *sniffle* theyre so precious.

and now my mind goes to that yandere todoroki clan au (i think it was the bullied series) where at the end, reader dies because of rei, and the whole fam loses their sanity. then one day, reader is reincarnated (its her quirk) as dabi's baby and dabi shares the news with his siblings because he needs to restore their sanity too (cause he feels responsible for them too, the "eldest kid" syndrome).

anyways, after you, his daughter had died, enji lost it and killed rei and then just vanished into the mountains to mourn his loss. years later, for whatever reason, he finds out about you. he's standing there, watching toddler you looking at him with curiosity. you stumble towards him, and Enji's on his knees at this point, he's in shock. your scars, your marks from your previous life dont even register to him until later on, all he can focus is you- its you, his baby. his daugher. his child that he swore to protect and failed.

your legs give out when you reach him but your hands reach for him and enji's already lifting you up, bringing you to his chest. his eyes are filled with tears as u look at him and babble, your hands grabbing onto his shirt, touching his face, big doe eyes staring at him.

he hugs you, silent sobs wrecking his body as he gets a whiff of your head. you- you smell just like her- like his daughter.

It really is you.

he doesn't let go of you, even when you eventually fall asleep in his arms, rocking you gently as he stares down at you in awe and disbelief. he doesn't let you go even when dabi tries to take you back, even when dabi insists that he won't keep you two apart, that you need to rest in your bed as he explains everything.

he finally let's you go when you wake up and reach for your dad (dabi), crying when enji doesn't let you leave his arms. but he relents, enji relents when you cry- it hurts him so bad, he's reminded of all the times how you used to cry before, how you used to beg him for help, beg him to save you. his heart breaks to see you like this, in tears.

enji's only partially conscious of what dabi is saying to him, explaining to him that you're now "his" daughter and enji's "granddaughter" and that's how things will be if they need to work. But enji doesn't care whether you're his daughter or not, all he cares about is that he's in your life because he needs to- he will keep you safe. He won't make the same mistakes again. Never.

i can just imagine the siblings and enji all sitting down together to make decisions about your life in extreme detail so that they ensure that no harm befalls you ever again, and if by some extreme badluck you die, they need to make sure that you reincarnate back to them.

they plan your every day, they make sure that at least one of them is with you at all times, and most importantly, they make sure youre safe and happy. when you start going to school, you're taken to school by Shotou because Dabi (who went back to working as a chef) has to go to work early. then at school, your teacher is more than likely Fuyumi (and if she's not your teacher, then she still works at your school). then after school, you're picked up by Enji who takes you out for ice cream (always, he doesnt care if its before u have had lunch. he needs to make up for all the times he couldnt give u ice cream because of rei) and also buy you any toys u want. enji is just enjoying you padding away and pointing at things that catch your eye. at home, natsuo has returned from his shift at the hospital and then starts heating up the food dabi had already made for you, before letting enji put you down for nap time. when you wake up, natsuo takes your vitals and a basic medical check. by dinner, dabi is home and you welcome him by launching yourself at his legs with a thud. he laughs, picks you up and pecks your cheek before taking you into the kitchen with him to make dinner while you tell him all about your day.

[just-a-itty-bitty-kitty]

Voice of the Smitten is a coping mechanism. (and so are the other voices)

The same thing applies to the rest of the voices, yes. But for my sanity, today, let's just talk about Smitten[I am ill about him].

Smitten is fixated on the Princess and on appeasing Her because he's born out of a belief that She's their only way to happiness and safety.

In Damsel's chapter 1, LQ establishes for themself that the Narrator is not a safe nor trustworthy person, but unlike Prisoner's ch1, instead of learning to be generally cautious and adopting an idea that there's no one they can fully trust, Quiet puts all of their trust into the Princess.

I strongly believe that, in order to shield themself from a dangerous, unclear, and scary reality, LQ dives into a sort of... 'fairytale' scenario. And that scenario, by extension, becomes the backbone of Smitten's whole worldview. He, just like the rest of the voices, is born out of a need for safety and control, and he knows of it as his purpose and his yearning. His mindset works as a mechanism that protects Quiet from a state of intense stress and discomfort.

So then, what is this mindset, exactly?

Well, for Smitten, expectations of certain roles appear. Roles that everyone has and needs to uphold: The Shining Knight, the Helpless Damsel, the Villain that's keeping them apart.

"Then you should know that we and the Princess are in love and the four of us will be foiling any and all assassination attempts you've got in the works."

These roles bring a sense of comfort. He has this vision of what the world is supposed to be, of what he's supposed to be. Fairytales always have happy endings, so with this vision, there comes a promise of everything working out.

"If he just makes everything go the way it's supposed to, then they'll be safe."

It gives Smitten the role of a protector, someone who controls the situation and wants the best for Quiet, as opposed to the Narrator who has an ulterior motive and clearly just wants to hurt them.

It gives him a sense of control.

So when something goes wrong, it feels like that control is yanked away, and that threatens his and LQ's safety. It takes away his happy ending that he tries so hard to keep.

"We'll get our happy ending, even if it damns each and every person who's ever lived!"

Another thing worth remembering is that the voices and LQ are at least under the impression that they haven't been living for very long. The only experiences they have to go off of, to learn from, are the ones we see in Chapter 1 and then on. To Smitten, the last time things went awry, they died horribly.

So it's no wonder he freaks out and feels like he has to push back for control. And that is also why he sees no problem with killing Quiet's body or even detaching himself from them entirely.

"Don't mind my sacrifice. It's a fair price to pay to give her everything she doesn't know she wants."

He places the responsibility for taking care of everyone on himself. Smitten is firmly under the impression that he "knows better". And he's even proven right a fair amount of times, which only solidifies the idea in his head.

"I told you! There's no life more worth living than that of a true believer!"

"I told you our love was insurmountable!"

But that also means Smitten unintentionally traps himself(and everyone around him) into a box, limiting his potential to just that, a shallow role. And that creates the feeling of inferiority.

His role is all there is to him, so if he can't uphold it, then it means there's something fundamentally wrong with him. It means he's failed.

In fact, Smitten seems to be laser-focused on his own shortcomings, at least when it comes to the Princess.

If She's somehow unhappy with anything Smitten has to offer, then it's not because She did something wrong, or because of some outside factor out of their control(he doesn't want to accept anything being out of his control, even if it would seemingly benefit him). No, it's because Smitten wasn't enough.

He idolizes Her while putting himself down.

"That's because she's perfect!"

It's a bit more complicated with The Long Quiet. On one hand, they are technically one person, but on the other, the voices like to distinguish themselves and seem to have a sense of their own identity.

If we take a look at one of Damsel's third chapters: The Burned Grey, Smitten is very distraught and angry at Quiet, and yet also berates himself at the same time.

"Ah, yes. The mirror. So we can see the monster we've become."

"No, my love! You did nothing wrong! I'm sorry! I'M SORRY, NOT YOU!"

So I think we can assume that it's a mix of both. He may feel angry at LQ but will ultimately blame himself.

Because it's his job to make sure everything went smoothly. It's his job to make sure that She was happy, because if She's happy – they're happy and they just threw all of his work away, but he was supposed to stop them. He was supposed to keep them happy.

He was supposed to keep them happy.

[weebsinstash]

Omg more Viktor and Jayce pls that was so good

I keep gravitating back towards the scene where they have their first huge disagreement, the whole "I'M from the Undercity" conversation, and I still feel like a disabled Reader who is from the Undercity is one of my favorite routes to go to pair Viktor up with

I keep feeling drawn to scenarios where Reader meets Viktor but not Jayce and you inadvertently, unintentionally, cause a big rift between the two of them because Jayce says or does something fucked up to you that stabs Viktor in the back in the same way as that conversation

Like could you even imagine if Viktor is already forming feelings for you and here's Jayce, talking about how he doesn't trust you, you aren't like the two of them, you're too anxious and twitchy like you're planning something, how Viktor needs to stop letting you hang around. Just envision in your mind Jayce just REALLY REALLY being riled up and saying something like, "I'm tired of having to worry about them stealing something while they're constantly just limping around--" and here's Viktor immediately coming to not just your defense but his own, "'Limping around'?LIMPING AROUND? Is that really what I heard tou say just now?!" like he's absolutely furious, because uh, what the FUCK is that supposed to mean, Jayce?

Jayce getting jealous when Viktor sidelines a project they're working on together because he wants to help you with a brace or he's inventing some sort of mobility aid for you, and Jayce being absolutely convinced you're taking advantage of Viktor and will stab him in the back. Jayce being jealous and feeling replaced when Viktor is constantly spending time with you to troubleshoot the aids he's built for you. Jayce really itching to work on this project but he can't find Viktor anywhere and he's running all over town and he catches you two... having lunch together. He's jealous. He's angry. He's feelin' a lil possessive for sure.

But also like. Reader feeling... insecure when Viktor heals his leg. I was just reading that this man is 5'10??? So you go from seeing him using his cane, kind of slouching at times, to having him stand at his full height before you, completely healed? It has you feeling... small in more ways than one to see that he's just... gotten better while YOU haven't, or maybe never will. Absolutely 100% you're happy for him but... you just wish you weren't dragging him down more than ever before now that you and him... are on even less equal footing than before

But then I also think of how Viktor's journey slowly corrupts him, or distorts his thoughts, and how a yandere obsession could... pile on top of that

He's healed his leg, he's feeling the rush and the high of running and having a fully functional body for the first time in his life. His chronic pain is gone. He keeps his cane but he's no longer REQUIRED to use it. He's high on life itself, like the entire world has opened up to him all over again. There are so many possibilities now. He feels like he can do anything he can put his mind to. And, of course, YOU are one of the first things he can think about. Now he can do so much more to help you! Protect you! Eliminate any dangers to you!

I couldn't decide if Viktor would want to heal the Reader's leg much like his own or if he would just keep you as you are. I mean, like if he could choose, make a distinction between helping that one singular part of yourself versus what he was doing to people like Salo. Maybe, through some sort of means, you were also touched by the Arcane, and you're able to keep your sanity while it heals your fragile body

(Mmm.... yandere Viktor who can remember you across timelines or gets glimpses of other realities... I love me a good timeline/multiverse "I'll keep going through this loop as many times as it takes to save you" oh wait shit you know what just happened, unlocked a new love for Ekko, we're gonna come back for him later)

Reader meeting Old Viktor or meeting him much in the same way young Jayce did because Viktor still loves you across timelines and he wants to keep every possible vestige of you safe, maybe with you even meeting a version of him who only learned the error of his ways after you had died. Old Viktor giving you something for protection from your current Viktor, maybe even giving you the rune or key to keeping your sanity to be safely healed by the arcane. It being Reader's destiny that meet Viktor and you both change each other's lives. But. Also. Old Viktor giving you something that actually helps young Viktor capture you or something though, too 👀 old Viktor needing to keep the loop going and being the first step on your long journey of becoming the apple of his own eye.

The absolute timeline fuckery potential of the catalyst to you meeting Viktor, being fucking Viktor. Old Viktor gives you some trinket and when you meet "your" version for the first time, the trinket is the first thing he notices, or something like, you drop The Thingy and it's while you're chasing that thing as it rolls or bounces or whatever, that's what causes you to collide with Viktor and meet him for the first time

Ngl.... the slightly mentally broken version of Jayce that's all scruffy and lugs that hammer around is kinda the only version of him I find like, HOT hot, and god 🥴 he has, juicier plot potential than the earlier versions of Jayce as well

To just spit it out, Viktor going through his whole Glorious Evolution and having his takeover but, deciding to keep Jayce and yourself as you are. Mentally broken newly born gods can have their beloved humans for forced companions/pets, as a treat. You and Jayce growing closer in your captivity. Jayce with everything he's lost developing new unhealthy attachments to one of the only things he has left: you. Viktor who may or may not be varying levels of indifferent or outright approving if Jayce were to be physically affectionate with you, developing to outright intimacy.

Who knows, maybe Jayce is sent through some Inception-style Homura-level timeline fuckery where he either learns the importance to the timeline and fate of the world that you're kept safe (which he might take to extreme degrees in effort of trying to do good) or he may just be driven mad with grief seeing so many outcomes where you die, and it's through these branching choices and timelines that he develops deeper feelings for you

But also!!! The version of Viktor who is going around healing people who has not gone full evil borderline cyborg yet also had his own dynamic to him! Live with your yandere lover on his peaceful hippie commune while everyone, like, grows crops for the needy and does borderline habitat for humanity level charity stuff but also there's this constant underlying unshakeable feeling everyone is a little off and cold, like physically cold? Like imagine you and Viktor having a touch-heavy love language because he's been your friend and helping you with your leg and a lot of that involved him needing to touch you, but also for you to trust him and lean on him and the other way around, and once Jayce revives him, the very first thing you notice when you hold his hand again for the first time is how much colder he is. And thus everyone else in the commune has that same sort of... 'something is off' hairs on the back of your neck 'this is the kind of shit dogs bark at' just all around unexplainable bad feeling (because somehow you can subconsciously sense thst everyone is. You know. Kind of. Kind of dead and it's not entirely clear if these are the original people or somehow copies of their consciousnesses)

Wait what's that? You say you don't feel comfortable being boxed in all the time not being able to leave the area and the vibes are honestly just creepy bad here and you're not exactly sure you agree with some of the stuff Viktor is talking about anymore? Did I say "peaceful hippie commune"? Sorry, I meant to say, "dedicated cult hivemind where the second Viktor even remotely suspects you of ANYTHING he has both the people keeping an eye open and he is watching you through their eyes and if you make it known to ANYONE that you're going to leave or escape or whatever the situation is, everyone will drop everything to stop you like it's the fucking Truman Show"

Some HEINOUS fuckshit like, you've got precious items to help you survive or escape hidden under your clothes and you're about to make your getaway and, oh a voice behind you! It's a little girl Viktor healed :) and she's oh so innocently and sweetly asking what you're doing and how nervous you are makes it immediately obvious that you're up to something. You laugh and try and make up a believable lie as soon as you can, "oh, i was feeling really bored so I wanted to jog around!" and she's just like "oh okay! But the jogging paths are the other way, though?" and she's being completely innocent about it. But. You take like. Just a little toooo long to respond, and suddenly she's just, POSTURE SUDDENLY JERKING UPRIGHT, the voice of a full grown man rising up from her throat,

"Please turn back, my love. I would hate to have to chase you"

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Kayla Katin

Published: Dec 31, 2024

Jordan Neely was murdered…by NYC Democrats’ failures

Apparently, I’ve got to be the lone voice of sanity. The veteran Marine, Daniel Penny, was found not guilty of criminally negligent homicide in the death of Jordan Neely, the homeless black man that he put in a chokehold on the subway in New York last year.

I see that people are well vexed about that, so I need to come and spit some facts.

[ BLM of Greater New York co-founder Chivona Newsome was not happy about the Daniel Penny verdict. ]

The jury did the right thing. The ruling is correct. Penny is not guilty. The only problem is that he wasn’t cleared of the charges sooner. The injustice is that this trial was even a thing in the first place.

Here are the facts. Jordan Neely was being belligerent, and threatening, and launching at people, and throwing things on the fucking subway. He said that he was ready to die, wanted to go back to jail, and was going to fucking kill people. The people were scared on that train. The passengers were scared. The mothers were trying to cover their children. That is when Daniel Penny intervened and put Neely in a chokehold to restrain him.

And guess what? I really don’t see this being reported, but there were two other guys helping Daniel Penny to restrain Jordan Neely, and neither of them looks white. Plus, Penny’s fellow passengers, including a black man and black woman, have said that Neely was terrifying and that Penny did the right thing. Yet, for some reason, the media seized on a race narrative.

[ Daniel Penny restrains Jordan Neely with the help of two other men. Video of the incident can be seen here. ]

Maybe I’m mistaken but I’ve seen the video and it doesn’t look like that chokehold was strong enough to cause asphyxiation. The forensic evidence found that Jordan Neely was still alive when that NYPD finally pulled up. Cops refused to resuscitate him because he was dirty and the police understandably didn’t want to risk catching hepatitis or something. So, Jordan Neely died.

We found out that he had a fuck-ton of drugs in his system and he had underlying health issues. All of that predisposed him. But the chokehold and the stress from the struggle probably just pushed him over the edge.

Maybe he would still be alive if it weren’t for that chokehold, but it’s really unfair to try and pin his death on Daniel Penny. The intent clearly wasn’t to kill. And Jordan Neely had to be restrained in order to stop him from attacking the passengers and following up on his threats.

The media, like some fucking vultures hovering over a corpse, couldn’t wait to make this into a race issue based on literally nothing except for the skin colors of these two guys. Guess what? Around the exact same time, a black man, Jordan Williams, did basically the exact same thing as Daniel Penny, except he actually ended up stabbing the homeless guy to death, because the homeless guy was harassing the passengers on the subway and harassed his girlfriend. Jordan Williams walked free after a month, but this Daniel Penny trial took a whole year.

That’s smelling really fishy.

As a black woman in the New York area, who had a run-in with my own “Jordan Neely” last year, I am really, really, really fucking frustrated at all of this hashtagging for this nigga.

Last year on the very first day of school, I was in downtown Newark waiting for my bus home, and some lady started mumbling shit at me. At first, I was trying to reason with her, asking what was up. But then I realized, she’s too far gone, she’s clearly on some shit. So I backed away, putting some distance between me and this lady.

But she kept being belligerent toward me. I was basically just ignoring it until she pulled a fucking baseball bat out from her backpack and threatened me with it. I’m dead ass. And there were multiple fucking people standing around, also waiting at this bus stop with me, and nobody gave an F. Nobody came and did jack shit.

This went on for minutes and minutes. Eventually, one middle-aged lady did come to stand by me to protect me. She said that she has daughters my age so she felt sympathy for me. And then, finally, the bus came. I thought that would put a stop to this, but the fucking crackhead got on the damn bus with me. I thought maybe she would get out but no, no, no, she stayed on all the way to my town and got off at my same stop. Thankfully, my mom was waiting for me in the car, so I ran into that car and I told my mom what happened.

I am so, so, so, so fucking tired and frustrated by these race-baiting politicians and naive liberals, who act like some hugs and free cookies can solve all these altercations. The mentally-ill, drug-addicted, and homeless of the world can be dangerous and violent. And it's not, right or fair for the rest of us to be put in danger because of their problems.

The bitter, bitter, bitter irony of everyone calling Daniel Penny a white supremacist is that the people who are most put in danger by the Jordan Neelys of the world are other working-class black people who have no fucking choice but to use this shitty-ass public transportation.

As a black New Yorker, I will stand on this. Daniel Penny did nothing wrong. He’s a hero. He deserves a key to the city. Y’all are so desperate to follow a narrative and create another George Floyd that you’re just overlooking facts and justice and common sense.

The New York Democrats were so, so, so desperate to let Daniel Penny take the fall for their failures. They wanted this trial to be a distraction, a smoke screen from their failures to address drug addiction, homelessness, mental illness, and transit safety.

Those are all very real problems, and instead of being mad at Daniel Penny, we should be mad at the politicians. We need to get mad at the politicians, but they want to divert the people’s anger to cover their own asses. Pretending like that was an act of systemic racism is a really easy way to take our eyes off of the other systemic problems that they’re presiding over. Every single fucking politician and law enforcement official that participated in this sham trial of Daniel Penny should be required to pay him reparations out of their own damn pockets.

Oh, and I forgot to add: Jordan Neely’s family is disgusting and fake as fuck for coming out the woodwork to cry crocodile tears over his death, when they did nothing for him in his life. They didn’t give a fuck.

Some closing thoughts from my X account:

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==

BLM are con artists and opportunistic grifters. They don't give a shit about black people. They don't give a shit about the people Neely - on a bond after his 44th arrest - was threatening, they don't give a shit about the people who were glad Penny stepped in.

BLM always martyr the worst people in the world, seemingly because they can't find any legitimate incidents that service their narrative. Everything they have to say should be treated as a lie by default, until proven otherwise.