#then it was satisfaction that brought it back

[51voices]

Tangled In Bliss

Kinkvember Day 11: Suspension Play/Stuck

Le Sserafim Nakamura Kazuha x Male reader

AN: A little later than when I normally upload, I'm still recovering 😅

“And… finished.” The soft murmur of satisfaction filled the tranquil yoga room as Kazuha stepped back to admire her setup. The aerial yoga hammock hung from the ceiling, swaying gently, as though eagerly awaiting her first move. The silky fabric, a rich teal that shimmered in the afternoon light, looked both delicate and strong—inviting her to stretch and soar. She felt a surge of pride at how smoothly everything had come together, the setup a small victory of her own making.

Although this wasn’t her first experience with aerial yoga, Kazuha felt a renewed sense of excitement bubbling up inside. As a former ballerina, she’d always been curious about practices that allowed her to blend strength with grace. She’d tried aerial yoga a few times before but now had her own space to explore her incredible flexibility and strength. Today felt special, charged even—she had the entire afternoon to herself, with no one around but the soft hum of the house and the silky fabric swaying before her.

There was something thrilling, almost rebellious, about using the silks alone. You were at work, and the idea of surprising you with a new skill filled her with warmth. After all, it was your mutual love of fitness that brought you together. She wanted you to see this side of her—a little daring, unrestrained, pushing her limits in the privacy of her own space.

With a slight smile, Kazuha tied her hair back and glanced at her phone, where she’d queued up a progression of aerial yoga poses, each one more challenging than the last. Taking a steadying breath, she positioned herself on the soft mat, hands reaching for the silk. Her fingers brushed the cool, smooth fabric, and she allowed herself to pause for a moment, savoring the anticipation building in her chest.

In one fluid motion, she lifted herself into the hammock, her muscles tensing and releasing as she rose, letting her body find its center of gravity. Her abs tightened, her legs wrapped around the silk, and she hung in a graceful inversion, her body suspended in a beautiful arc. Her arms extended, fingertips barely grazing the air as she floated in silence, the room holding its breath alongside her.

Kazuha caught her reflection in the mirror across the room—a flash of her toned legs, toes perfectly pointed, abs taut and defined. The vibrant pink of her yoga pants hugged her curves, emphasizing the elegant lines of her body. She shifted gracefully into a split, her legs stretching outward, the silks framing her in an effortless display of flexibility. She felt strong and empowered, her body weightless, movements held by the silks that supported her like an invisible dance partner.

Feeling a surge of confidence, she moved to the next level. She consulted her phone, noting the series of poses that lay ahead, each promising to test her balance and strength. She twisted her torso, lifting one leg while keeping the other wrapped securely. Her muscles tensed as she held the position, a soft sigh of exertion escaping her lips. The strain was real, but she relished the challenge, her body responding eagerly to the test.

Glancing down at her phone, she saw the final, more advanced pose displayed—a daring inversion requiring a deep backbend with her legs pulled high above her head. Kazuha paused, her heart pounding with both excitement and nerves, but her determination won out. Carefully, she shifted her weight and positioned her legs. Her abs tightened, arms supporting her as she brought her legs up and over, stretching her torso into a breathtaking arch. The silks wound securely around her thighs, but just as she settled into the pose, something went wrong.

Her foot slipped from the silk, and before she could react, the hammock tightened abruptly around her thighs, pulling her legs higher. Her body jerked as the fabric constricted around her, her legs now awkwardly bent above her head. She tried to reposition, but the silks only seemed to tighten further, locking her in place.

“Wait… what?” she gasped, heat flooding her cheeks. She struggled, twisting and wriggling, but the more she moved, the more the silks seemed to bind her, trapping her in a suspended split. Her arms hung helplessly at her sides, unable to reach for leverage. She let out a frustrated sigh, her gaze falling to her phone just out of reach on the floor. If she could only swing herself closer, maybe she could grab it. Determined, she rocked her body, fingers stretching, trying to build momentum, but the hammock refused to budge, keeping her immobilized in an elegant, albeit precarious, pose.

As she swung slightly, her mind began to wander. The thought of you finding her like this—stuck and vulnerable—sent a strange thrill down her spine. Her cheeks warmed as she imagined your reaction. Part of her was frustrated, but another part, one she didn’t often acknowledge, felt a curious excitement.

Minutes ticked by, but to her, it felt like an eternity. With each passing second, her frustration grew, mingling with the anticipation she couldn’t quite shake. Her gaze drifted back to the door, half hoping, half dreading the moment you’d walk in.

Then, just as she was resigning herself to a lengthy wait, the sound of the front door opening shattered the quiet. Her heart leapt, caught between relief and sudden embarrassment, as your voice echoed through the house, warm and familiar.

“Zuha? My love, I’m home!”

She bit her lip, hesitating as she fought down the blush that threatened to rise again. Finally, she called out, her voice a little shaky, “Baaabe? Could you… come to my yoga room?”

As you entered the room, the scene before you was enough to make you pause, taking in every detail. There she was—suspended in the air, her legs folded above her head, arms helplessly dangling at her sides. Her cheeks were flushed, a hint of vulnerability in her usually confident gaze. Her body was wrapped in silk, held by the taut fabric, and despite her embarrassment, she looked breathtaking.

For a moment, your concern was visible, but as the situation fully registered, a grin crept across your face. Leaning against the doorway, you crossed your arms, unable to resist the teasing. “Well, well... what do we have here?” you murmured, eyebrow raised. “Zuha, how exactly did you manage this?”

Kazuha squirmed slightly, her face burning even brighter as she looked away, mumbling under her breath. “I was… trying a new position, and I lost my balance,” she muttered defensively. “Now I’m stuck. Could you just help me get down?”

You chuckled, stepping closer with a glint of mischief in your eye. Slowly, you traced a finger along the edge of the silks wrapped tightly around her thighs. She shivered at the soft touch, her breath catching as it quickened slightly. "Are you sure you're not hurt?" you asked, letting your voice dip, a note of seriousness slipping through.

She shook her head, biting her lip. “No, I’m fine,” she replied, her voice wavering just slightly. “Just… stuck and incredibly embarrassed.”

A soft smirk played at your lips as you leaned closer, your face just inches from hers. “Good,” you whispered, your breath grazing her ear. “Because you look surprisingly comfortable up there.” Her blush deepened, and you could see a flicker of something more in her eyes—an unspoken thrill.

Before she could respond, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, then brushing her lips with yours. She melted into the kiss, her shoulders relaxing as her breathing steadied, a subtle warmth spreading over her cheeks.

With a quiet chuckle, you took a step back, shrugging nonchalantly. "I'm going to freshen up. Long day at work, you know?" You added a playful push to the hammock, setting it into a gentle sway, and her gaze softened as she watched you move toward the hallway.

"Just hang tight," you called over your shoulder with a grin, leaving her nestled and content in the gentle sway.

“What?! Babe, don’t you dare—” she started, her voice rising in disbelief, but it was too late. You’d already disappeared down the hall, and the soft sound of the bathroom door closing echoed through the quiet house.

Suspended in the air, Kazuha let out an exasperated sigh, her face flushed with both frustration and something else she couldn’t quite define. She wriggled again, hoping to somehow loosen the silks, but the hammock’s hold remained firm. Her legs were trapped in an elevated split, the silks gripping her tightly, leaving her completely immobilized. Her phone was tantalizingly close on the floor below, but there was nothing she could do but wait.

A mix of emotions swirled inside her—embarrassment, irritation, and a spark of anticipation she hadn’t expected. She couldn’t help but wonder what you’d do when you returned. Being at your mercy, bound in the hammock and unable to move, filled her with a thrill she hadn’t felt before. Her mind raced, and despite herself, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

When you finally returned, your casual grin grew wider at the sight of her still suspended and completely helpless. “How's it hanging...Still stuck?” you teased, stepping closer, your eyes tracing the lines of her toned body. She glared at you, though her flustered expression and pink cheeks betrayed her mixed feelings. “Obviously,” she muttered, trying to sound irritated. “Are you going to help me down now?”

You held her gaze, your fingers lightly trailing up the silks that bound her thighs. “You look so graceful up there,” you mused, voice soft as your fingers traced the line of her legs, moving higher with tantalizing slowness. You stopped just shy of the waistband of her yoga pants, eyes darkening with a playful glint.

“I mean, I could let you down now,” you whispered, leaning in close enough that she could feel your breath on her skin, “but where’s the fun in that?”

Kazuha’s heart raced as she felt your touch move higher, stopping just shy of the waistband of her yoga pants. Your voice was low and teasing with eyes dark with playful intent.

"Tell me, How much did there cost you?" you murmured, your voice a low, sultry purr that seemed to resonate with the intimacy of the moment. Your fingers continued their dance along the fabric, each touch sending a ripple of anticipation through Kazuha's body.

Kazuha blinked, her long lashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks as she processed your question. "Uh... eighty dollars?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, a hint of confusion mingling with the growing desire in her eyes.

Your hand paused, and for a moment, your expression shifted to one of thoughtful contemplation. Then, as if a delightful idea had struck you, a mischievous grin spread across your face, transforming it into a portrait of playful intentions.

"Eighty dollars, huh?" You shrugged nonchalantly, the picture of confidence and control. "I can afford that."

Before Kazuha could utter another word, you gripped the fabric of her pants with a determined hand, right at the point where it covered her wet, eager folds. With a swift, forceful motion, you tore the pants open, the sound of the fabric ripping echoing through the room like a sharp, tantalizing prelude to the symphony of pleasure that was to come.

Kazuha gasped, the cool air rushing against her newly exposed skin, sending a shiver of delight mixed with shock coursing through her body. "B-Baby!" she stammered, her body tensing, her heart racing as she realized just how vulnerable and exposed she was to you in that moment.

Your smirk deepened, your eyes darkening with desire as you leaned in closer, your hand now trailing down to explore the slickness of her folds. "You're already soaked," you murmured, your voice low and teasing, the vibrations of your words adding to the sensation of your fingers as they grazed her wetness. "Were you hoping this would happen?"

Kazuha whimpered softly, her body trembling at your touch, her legs still suspended above her, held in place by the hammock's gentle embrace. She was completely at your mercy, her body aching with anticipation and need.

"You're the perfect height for this," you growled, the animalistic edge to your voice betraying your excitement. You positioned yourself between her legs, your eyes lingering on the sight before you—Kazuha, open and vulnerable, her body a canvas of desire. "I think I'm going to enjoy this."

With a wicked grin, you knelt on the thin yoga matt that covered the floor, placing yourself perfectly between Kazuha's legs. You began by kissing her inner thighs gently, your lips leaving a trail of warmth as you worked your way up slowly, teasing her with your breath, your intention clear. Kazuha squirmed slightly, her body aching with anticipation, but the hammock kept her perfectly still, leaving her completely exposed to your ministrations.

Your lips hovered just inches from her core, your breath hot against her sensitive skin. Kazuha's body trembled in response, a silent plea for more. You pressed a soft, lingering kiss against her pussy, a promise of the pleasure to come. Looking up at her with a teasing smirk, you held her gaze, the connection between you electric and unbreakable.

"You're so perfect, I'm the luckiest man in the world." you murmured, your voice low and filled with a longing that resonated in the stillness. "I could do this all day."

Kazuha's breath hitched, a staccato rhythm against the symphony of nature's chorus. Your words, a balm to her soul, sent shivers cascading through her body, electrifying every nerve ending. She had always reveled in the appreciation of her figure—a testament to her dedication and discipline. But when those words of adoration came from you, they pierced through her defenses, reaching depths she hadn't known existed within her.

Your gaze was a physical touch, locked onto her trembling form with an intensity that heightened her arousal to near-unbearable heights. You drank in the sight of her, the rise and fall of her chest, the flush that painted her skin, and the way her body responded to the timbre of your voice. She could feel herself throbbing, her core reacting with involuntary clenches, a silent plea for more. A soft whimper escaped her lips, a sound that seemed to reverberate through the very air around you.

You smiled, a knowing, predatory grin that acknowledged her body's betrayal of its own need. "You love that, don't you? The way I talk about you... I can see you your pussy quiver from every word." Your words were a velvet caress, wrapping around her, pulling her deeper into the web of your shared desire.

With a deliberate slowness that bordered on cruelty, your tongue flicked out, teasing her clit with a light touch that promised more. Then, with a feral hunger, you pressed your mouth fully against her, devouring her with deep, slow licks that sent shockwaves of pleasure through her suspended form. Kazuha gasped, her legs trembling within the silken embrace of the hammock as the pleasure shot through her core like a starburst. Her hips instinctively tried to buck, to meet the rhythm of your mouth, but the silks held her firmly in place, leaving her suspended and completely at your mercy.

You licked her deliberately, tracing her slick folds with your tongue as you worked her closer and closer to the precipice of ecstasy. Your hands, strong and sure, gripped her thighs, holding her in place as your mouth moved against her with expert precision. You kissed and sucked on her clit, each movement building her up, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

Kazuha's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling as the pleasure intensified. Her abs, already flexed from the effort of maintaining balance within the hammock, tightened even more with every movement of your tongue. She could feel her muscles contracting, every inch of her body reacting to the sensations you were giving her, a dance of ecstasy that left her teetering on the edge.

"God, you taste so good," you groaned between kisses, your voice rough with lust. "I can't believe how beautiful and sexy you are. Your body’s amazing, baby." The compliments made Kazuha's core tighten even more, a coil winding ever tighter within her. Every word you spoke seemed to drive her wild, her pussy clenching involuntarily in response to your praise. She could feel her climax building, a tide that threatened to sweep her away. Her legs quivered in the hammock, her body tensing in delicious anticipation of the release that was sure to come.

You weren’t holding back. You pressed your mouth harder against her, your tongue flicking rapidly over her clit as you pushed her closer to the edge. You let go of her legs and pushed forward with your face, using gravity to press her pussy deeper into your mouth. The hammock’s tension added to the sensation, her own body weight pushing her harder against your lips and tongue, making every movement more intense.

Kazuha's voice, tremulous with need, pierced the air. "Oh god, You feel so fucking good!" she cried out, her desperation palpable. Her abdominal muscles contracted with such force that it bordered on pain, the tension in her core coiling like a spring as her body quivered on the brink of ecstasy.

Your voice, a dark melody of seduction, teased her mercilessly. "You're close, aren't you?" you murmured, looking up to meet her gaze, your eyes alight with mischief and desire. "I can feel how much you're throbbing. Cum for me, baby, I know you want to."

Her response was a whimper, a sound that seemed to be torn from the very depths of her being. Her legs, ensnared by the hammock's embrace, trembled as her climax loomed ever closer. You were relentless, your mouth working tirelessly to push her over the edge. The pleasure was building, a crescendo that threatened to consume her entirely.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, you pulled back slightly, your lips leaving her clit for just a moment before your hand came down in a sharp slap against her pussy.

Kazuha’s entire body jolted at the sudden sting, her back arching as the pain and pleasure mixed together. Her breath hitched, her abs contracting violently as her pussy throbbed in response. Before she could recover, you slapped her again, the sharp sensation sending her spiraling.

“Come on, Zuha,” you growled, your voice thick with desire. “I know, you love getting spanked.”

With one final, powerful slap, Kazuha’s body shattered.

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her entire body convulsing in the hammock as her pussy clenched and pulsed uncontrollably. Her abs flexed so hard that every muscle in her core stood out, looking like it was chiseled from stone, her thighs trembling violently as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. The force of her climax left her breathless, her cries filling the room as she came harder than ever before.

But you were not finished. You leaned forward once more, your mouth finding her again, your tongue laving her through the aftershocks. Your relentless attention to her overstimulated clit elicited another chorus of cries from Kazuha, her body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm her once more.

"Fuck, you truly are one of a kind, baby," you groaned against her, your own arousal evident in your voice. Your tongue continued to worship her sensitive flesh, each flick timed perfectly with the erratic beating of her heart. Her pussy responded in kind, clenching and releasing as her body rode the waves of her orgasm.

Spent and sated, Kazuha could only whimper softly, her body a boneless, contented weight in the hammock. Her legs, still gently swaying, twitched with the remnants of her climax as she struggled to catch her breath. 

You finally pulled back, your lips brushing softly over her trembling core one last time before you looked up at her. Your eyes, filled with satisfaction, met hers, which were clouded with the aftermath of her climax. "You're gorgeous," you whispered, your voice a symphony of admiration. "I could watch you cum all day."

Kazuha's body continued to shudder, her mind a haze of pleasure as she struggled to draw breath. Her toned abdomen still flexed, quivering from the intensity of her release, and her sensitive flesh throbbed with the sweet ache of overstimulation, her body twitching with every lingering touch.

You stood slowly, your hands tracing a path along her silken thighs before leaning in to press a soft, possessive kiss to her abdomen. "I'm not done with you yet," you murmured against her skin, a playful intent lacing your words.

Kazuha whimpered softly, her body deliciously spent yet still eager for more. She was completely at your mercy, surrendering to the vulnerability and reveling in every moment of it.

You took a step back, your gaze darkening with desire as it roamed over her trembling form. Your hands gripped her hips, adjusting her position in the hammock, pulling her just high enough that your hips aligned perfectly. You positioned yourself between her legs, the tip of your arousal brushing against her slick folds, teasing her with the promise of what was to come.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," you growled, your voice rough with anticipation as you locked eyes with her. "Look at you, dripping and so ready for me."

Without further ado, you thrust into her, your length filling her completely in one powerful motion. Kazuha gasped, her back arching as the hammock swayed beneath her, enhancing every movement. The gentle rocking, combined with the slow, deliberate rhythm of your thrusts, made every sensation more exquisite.

The angle was perfection—your hands gripping her hips tightly as you drove into her, each thrust deeper than the last. The hammock cradled her suspended at just the right height, her legs spread wide above her, offering herself to you entirely.

"Baby," you whispered against her ear, your voice thick with lust. "You feel so fucking good like this."

Kazuha could only moan in response, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the pleasure mounted rapidly. Her body trembled beneath you, every thrust propelling her closer to the precipice of another shattering release. The way you manipulated the hammock to control her movements, adjusting her height and angle, made each plunge feel impossibly deep.

Your grip on her hips tightened, pulling her down onto you with every motion. "You're mine," you asserted, your thrusts growing harder, more intense as you watched her body react to yours. "Completely mine."

Kazuha whimpered, her legs quivering in the hammock as the pleasure spiraled faster and faster. She could feel herself teetering on the edge of another orgasm, her entire being trembling as you relentlessly drove her toward the brink.

"I... I can't...hold on, I need to cum" Kazuha moaned, her voice shaky with the effort to articulate the overwhelming sensations coursing through her.

You smirked down at Kazuha, your eyes dark with the intensity of your longing. "Not yet," you growled, your thrusts slowing down just enough to keep her hanging on the brink. "Hold on longer for me." The playful yet commanding tone in your voice sent a shiver down her spine.

With a playful grin, you suddenly pushed her away slightly in the hammock, the fabric rocking her gently backwards. The momentum of the swing brought her body crashing back into yours, your length driving deeper inside her as the force of the motion sent shockwaves of pleasure through her.

Kazuha gasped, her breath catching in her throat as the hammock swung her back again, only to bring her crashing into your hips once more. Every swing sent you deeper, every impact more intense than the last, leaving her trembling and breathless.

Your hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements as you repeated the motion, pushing her away and letting her swing back into you, the hammock amplifying the force of every thrust. Kazuha's entire body trembled beneath you, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure became too much to bear.

"Oh god—please," she whimpered, her body swinging back into you again. The rhythm of the hammock and your powerful thrusts left her breathless, the force of each movement driving you deeper into her.

You grinned darkly, watching her unravel beneath you. "You feel that, Zuha?" you growled, your eyes dark with lust. "You're taking every inch of me."

As her body swung back into you again, your thrusts became harder, stronger, each one meeting her with an overwhelming intensity. Kazuha's breath came in ragged gasps, her entire body trembling in the silks as she was rocked back and forth, every movement sending you deeper inside her.

But then, Kazuha instinctively leaned forward slightly, using her weight to move toward you as she swung back into your hips. Your eyes glinted with desire as you took the opportunity, grabbing her weightless body mid-swing and slamming her back into you with even more force.

Kazuha's body jolted violently with the impact, her eyes fluttering closed as you began pounding into her harder and harder, your thrusts driving her deeper with each movement. You weren't holding back anymore, your hands gripping her hips tightly as you met each swing with a powerful thrust that sent you even impossibly deep inside her.

Kazuha gasped, her breath catching in her throat as the pleasure became overwhelming. Her legs trembled, her entire body quivering uncontrollably in the hammock as you drove into her relentlessly. Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through her core, the sensation so intense that she could barely breathe.

"You're mine," you growled, your voice rough with desire. "All mine, Zuha, say it."

"I-I'm yours," she panted, "all yours, every part of me is claimed by you."

The force of your thrusts, combined with the swinging motion of the hammock, left Kazuha on the verge of collapse. Her vision blurred, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure consumed her. She could feel herself losing control, her body trembling violently as you pounded into her with unrelenting force.

"Please, can I cum, it's so deep," Kazuha whimpered, her voice trembling as she teetered on the edge of consciousness. Her legs were shaking, her entire body quivering as the intense pleasure pushed her closer and closer to the breaking point.

In response to her desperate plea, you reached out, your hands finding purchase on her weightless, hanging body. With a surge of strength, you brought her hips to meet yours with an unbelievable pace, each thrust harder and faster than the last. The hammock swayed wildly, a pendulum of passion, as you drove her further into the abyss of pleasure.

The world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of you locked in a dance as old as time. The rhythm of your bodies moving in harmony, the crescendo building with each passionate stroke, was all that mattered. Kazuha's body arched, her muscles tensing as she finally surrendered to the overwhelming force within her.

You could feel it too—her body trembling, her warmth clenching around you as you drove into her faster and harder. You leaned down, your breath hot against her skin as you groaned, "Cum for me, baby." and with a cervix kissing thrust, you buried yourself deep inside her, holding Kazuha in place as her body convulsed in your arms.

She let out an ear piercing scream, her entire body shuddering as another orgasm tore through her, even more intense than the previous. Her legs quivered, her pussy clenching and pulsing around you as the waves of pleasure overtook her. It was a sight to behold—her body, a temple of ecstasy, responding to your touch with such unbridled intensity.

You weren’t far behind. You groaned loudly, resuming the rhythmic jerking of your hips as your own climax hit you hard. You released her hips and let go completely, pulling out of her just in time to finish. The force of your release sent streams of your hot, creamy seed spraying across Kazuha’s trembling body.

Thick streams of your essence splattered onto her slick, trembling pussy, coating her toned abs. even slightly reaching her flushed face. Kazuha gasped softly as she felt the warm sensation spread across her skin, her entire body still quivering from the intensity of her second orgasm.

Her abs flexed involuntarily with each aftershock, her muscles taut and trembling as you stood above her, panting heavily. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you watched the last drops of your release drip down her body, mixing with the sheen of sweat on her skin. For a moment, you couldn’t move, mesmerized by the sight of Kazuha’s limp, weightless form hanging in the air, her body gently swinging back and forth as she lay dazed and spent.

Kazuha’s legs twitched slightly, her eyes half-lidded as she floated in and out of consciousness, the aftershocks still rippling through her core. Her entire body quivered, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as the hammock continued to sway gently beneath her. Her skin glistened in the low light, her muscles still trembling from the overwhelming intensity of it all.

Your chest rose and fell as you caught your breath, leaning over her slightly, captivated by the sight of her completely undone, quivering and dazed in the silks. You reached out, your fingers brushing softly over her slick abs, feeling the way her body twitched beneath your touch.

“Wow,” you whispered, your voice still rough from the exertion. “That was incredible.”

Kazuha let out a soft, tired moan, her head rolling slightly as her body swung gently, still too weak to move. She was completely spent, her body trembling uncontrollably as the last waves of pleasure washed over her. Your touch lingered on her skin, the weight of your hand grounding her as she floated in a haze of exhaustion and satisfaction.

You watched her carefully, your heart pounding as you took in the sight of her—dazed, quivering, and utterly at your mercy. You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her sweat-slicked forehead before pulling back, letting her swing gently in the hammock, her body still pulsing from the intensity of what you’d shared.

The room was filled with the soft creaking of the hammock and the quiet sound of your ragged breathing. Kazuha’s body still quivered, her legs trembling as she hung limply in the silks, completely spent and overwhelmed by the intensity of everything that had just happened. Her head tilted back, her breath coming in shallow gasps, but her eyes, wide and filled with emotion, glistened with unshed tears.

Her lips parted as she tried to speak, her voice shaky and fragmented. “I... I love you...” she whispered, her breath catching as tears welled up in her eyes. “I... can’t... believe... it... was so...good”

Kazuha, her body still resonating with the aftershocks of an intense climax, lay in the hammock, its soft sway a mere whisper against the tumultuous feelings coursing through her. The tears that welled in her eyes were not born of sorrow but of an overwhelming sense of love and awe, a testament to the profound connection that had just been shared.

Your heart, as the observer of her vulnerability, swelled with a tender affection. Seeing her so exposed, her body quivering and her eyes brimming with love, triggered an instinctive desire within you to care for her, to ensure her well-being amidst the emotional tempest.

"Shh, Zuha," you murmured, your voice a soothing balm as you drew nearer, your words infused with warmth and concern. "I've got you, love. I know... I know it was a lot."

Her breath caught as she attempted once more to voice her feelings, her words barely audible through the tears that escaped down her cheeks. "I... I love you... so much," she whispered, her voice fractured by the intensity of her emotions. "I've never... felt anything like that..."

Your heart ached with the love you held for her, prompting you to gently brush away the tears that threatened to overshadow her beauty. Aware of her delicate state, you leaned in, your voice soft and reassuring as you spoke words of love and admiration.

"You're amazing, Zuha," you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of her face with a featherlight touch. "You did so well. You're perfect, and I love you so much."

The depth of her experience was etched in every tremble of her body, in every shaky breath she took. You remained by her side, your hands resting gently on her thighs, grounding her with your presence and steady voice.

Kazuha stirred, trying to sit up, her hands tugging slightly at the binds as if testing her strength, but her body, still tender and drained, struggled to obey. Determination flickered in her gaze, mingling with the vulnerability that softened her expression. Her movements were slight, every attempt revealing just how spent she truly was.

A gentle smile played across your lips as you reached out, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder to soothe her, grounding her in your warmth and presence. "Shh, don’t rush it, Kazuha," you murmured, your tone calm and soft, laced with love and assurance. "I’ll help you down once you’re ready. Just rest for a little while longer, okay?"

She looked up at you, her breath still coming in soft, uneven waves, as she relaxed back into the hammock, her body trusting your support. She nodded slowly, her gaze melting into yours, comforted by your words, letting go of the need to rise too soon.

"It's okay," you soothed, your thumb making slow, comforting circles on her leg. "Just relax now, love, let me know when your ready"

As time passed, her breathing slowed, the tremors subsiding as her muscles relaxed and the tension melted away. You continued your soft-spoken assurances, allowing her the space and time she needed to find her equilibrium once more, your presence steady and unwavering, giving her the peace to simply be.

Her eyelids fluttered, a sign that the intensity was waning, and her breath found a steadier rhythm, though the evidence of her tears still clung to her lashes. A tender smile graced your lips as you watched her, her body finally still, the remnants of her trembling fading with each peaceful breath.

The hammock’s gentle rocking gradually ceased, and in the newfound stillness, you whispered her name, a note of concern lacing your voice. “Zuha?”

There was no reply. Her body, once wracked with the power of her emotions, now lay completely at ease. Her eyes were closed, her expression serene, her breathing soft and regular.

“Zuha?” you called again, this time more softly, as you leaned in to check on her. It was then you realized she had succumbed to the overwhelming intensity of your shared experience, her body and mind surrendering to a state of unconsciousness.

For a moment, you simply watched her in the hammock, her body still weightless and suspended in the silks. Her legs, still folded above her, swayed ever so slightly, while her chest rose and fell with the soft rhythm of sleep. The sight of her, so completely at ease, filled you with an overwhelming sense of affection. You couldn’t help but wear a tender smile, recognizing the profound journey you’d taken her on—a place of such intensity that it had left her completely spent, needing the solace of sleep to recuperate.

With a reverence that bordered on the sacred, you reached up to free her from the silks. Your hands moved with deliberate care, untangling her limbs with a gentleness that left her repose undisturbed. Kazuha’s body remained pliant in your hands, her breathing a steady lullaby as you unraveled her from the hammock’s embrace. Once she was free, you carefully gathered her into your arms. She was a dead weight, her energy sapped by the evening’s events, yet even in sleep, a serene smile lingered on her lips—a silent acknowledgment of the trust and comfort she found in your presence.

You carried her to the bedroom, a sanctuary where you could care for her further. As you laid her on the bed, you noticed the torn fabric of her yoga leggings, a lingering reminder of the night’s passion. With a gentle touch, you peeled the material away, revealing the marks of your shared intensity. Her skin, still glistening with the evidence of your release, told a story of pleasure and surrender.

Taking a soft cloth, you began to clean her, your touch as light as a whisper. You wiped her abs, her inner thighs, and finally, her face, tenderly removing the physical traces of your lovemaking. As you carefully slid off her sports bra, revealing her completely, you couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty that lay before you, still adorned with the subtle glow of shared ecstasy.

With the task complete, you set the cloth aside and slipped into bed beside her. Gently, you pulled the covers over both of you, then wrapped your arms around her, drawing her close. Instinctively, she curled into you, her head finding its natural resting place on your chest. In her sleep, she sought your warmth, her body molding to yours as she sighed in contentment.

Looking down at her, your heart brimmed with love and a fierce sense of protection. “I love you so much.” you whispered, your words a gentle benediction.

She remained in a deep, peaceful sleep, her body in a state of perfect repose, but your words hung in the air, a silent vow that enveloped the room. You held her, a guardian in the quietude, feeling the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing as it matched your own. This moment, so intimate and tender, carried its own weight, its own significance, a quiet testament to the depth of your relationship.

As you lay together, the silence of the bedroom wrapped around you like a cocoon. The love you felt for her, magnified by the vulnerability and trust you’d both embraced, filled you with a profound sense of gratitude. The experiences you’d shared had woven your lives even closer, deepening a connection that felt boundless.

With Kazuha nestled safely in your arms, you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of your shared love settle around you. In this quiet, contented space, you drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that what you shared was rare and precious. And in the sanctity of the night, the two of you rested, wrapped in the certainty of your love.

[mellosstuffs]

It's actually super common to shorten those expressions to mean what people want to hear.

"Curiosity killed the cat" ends with "but satisfaction brought it back".

"Blood is thicker than water" is actually "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

"Birds of a feather flock together" ends with "until the cat comes."

Etc etc.

You'll notice cutting those expressions in half tends to give a completely opposite meaning to the original sentence. Coz of course.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

62 / 3.4k / final part of shark mermen Gaz and Soap with human!reader

kinktober keywords: dubcon, anal, double penetration, monster mermen, monsterfucking, teratophilia, hypnosis/hypnokink, praise

nsfw ⬇

Soap has his filthy way with you, pushing into you with the longest, most agonizingly slow strokes you can imagine. You swear you nearly peak every time he bottoms out. And he might as well be edging you every time he pulls drags himself back. You can't pretend like you don't want every second of it, though--your  walls grip him fervently.

Soap slowly loses himself to his instincts. He ruts into you harder and faster--just like you're crying out for him to do, you register dimly--until he snarls and pulls out. You whine in protest until something warm and wet spurts across your back, and you sigh contentedly in the knowledge that you brought him satisfaction.

Just as you're catching your breath, though, he chuckles and repositions himself so his second cock is pressing up against your swollen core. "Don't know about you, hen, but I've got plenty more time and energy to spend."

"Ah--!" you gasp out as he pushes the second, still-throbbing head into you. You don't think you're capable of going any longer. But even as you collapse with your forearms against the gravel, hands balled into fists, you'd like nothing more than for him to keep using you. You're painfully aware this time that you're having that thought and enjoying this little game all on your own. No hypnotic suggestion necessary. Maybe Gaz did ease you into it, but you knew what would happen to you if you let them keep touching you. You knew, and you let it happen.

He keeps pounding, huge hands groping up and down your form. Just as he seems ease up into something resembling a caress, he clamps one hand around the back of your neck, slides his other hand to your ass, and squeezes with a throaty laugh.

You feel his fingertip prodding at your asshole. "Hey!" you squeak, trying to wiggle forward.

It only makes Soap chuckle. "Hey?"

"You're not supposed to touch that!"

"Really now."

"Aye," you tell him, mimicking his accent.

Soap's hips snap in an especially rough thrust.

"Ah!"

"You sure you want to sass me right now?"

You huff as he continues rubbing little circles around the tighter hole. "Just... watch it."

Soap laughs and eases the very tip of his claw into the rim. His hips don't slow down either, fucking another harsh breath out of you. "Or what?"

You swallow, gripping the gravel under your palms. "I don't think I can hold any more," you plead.

Gaz doesn't say anything, but his expression shifts with interest. Soap pauses for a moment. Gaz speaks first. "But you'll try, won't you?"

You feel dizzy again. His voice drifts into parts of your brain you never thought possible. You love it and you hate it. Soap uses his grip on your neck to angle your upper body up and your hips down. At that angle, his tip grinds even harder into your most sensitive inner cluster of nerves.

You cry out, bucking your hips back into the finger pressing into your ass. "Yes!"

Soap smirks. "There's a good human."

You pant, trying to ease your legs further apart. But grinding any lower into the gravel hurts your knees, and Soap's hand on your neck keeps you from bending forward and slumping to the ground.

The pace of his strokes slows as he works his finger in a little more. It's already slippery with your own arousal, Soap’s spit, and Gaz's spend covering the crux of your thighs. You’re a mess. Even so, you're wary of his claw--it's meant to rip flesh--but as long as he’s controlling himself, it's fairly blunt. You hate how easily you take in his thumb up to the first knuckle despite its size. Gaz watches with a look on his face that only makes you feel more lightheaded.

Soon enough, Soap's thumb is sheathed inside you to the proverbial hilt. He releases his hold on your neck and uses your ass to maneuver you instead.

He stares down at both your openings with a crooked smirk. "Damn near perfect sex toy, isn't she?" he says idly. "Two holes lined right up."

"Fuck you," you groan out, rutting backward against him. Your body is on fire despite the cool ocean mist falling over you and the wind pushing down along the cliffsides around you. You're so close.

Soap chuckles. "You wanna get rough, hen?"

"Nnh..."

Gaz takes hold of your chin and turns your gaze toward him. "Be honest. You get what you ask for when you don’t use your words."

His face is close. You feel yours heat up.

Behind you, Soap groans. "Clenching on me," he mutters. His pace slows before your tightness can overwhelm him further. He slides his thumb back and forth.

You blink up at Gaz with hazy eyes. "I want to cum," you tell him.

"Yeah?" His thumb strokes your chin. "You seemed so hesitant not long ago. What changed?"

"I... You..."

"Mmhm?" Gaz's thumb brushes your lower lip. "You’re communicating so well. Don't stop now."

"You tricked me. You lied."

"Did I? What did I lie about?"

"You hypnotized me," you gasp out. Your voice shakes as Soap punches in and out of you. "And then you said-- ah-- you said I wanted it anyway."

"Hypnosis isn't magic. I put a few suggestions into your head. You reacted on your own."

You try to bite back a cry of pleasure. It comes out a sob. Soap pushes himself to go faster again, finally, feeling you tighten up as you near your limit.

"You-- you made me-- turned me into--" Your voice breaks as the tension inside you snaps. You clamp down hard on Soap’s thumb and his cock. Your body rolls uncontrollably. Milking him. It feels so good, so full, you could cry.

"Good job," Gaz coos. "You feel a little better when you stop thinking too hard, don't you?"

You sag, panting, and half-collapse into his lap.

Gaz catches you easily before you can slump to the ground. "That's right," he murmurs, letting you rest your head against his chest.

Soap pounds you a few more times and lets out a long, hissing groan as he finishes. He grips your hips and pumps you up and down his shaft to finish himself off. Then, finally, he leans forward, hands on either side of you, and sighs in satisfaction. His teeth graze your shoulder like he wants to sink them in opposite where Gaz’s bite mars you, but the only marks his mouth leaves are warm, wet kisses. As much as lathes of his tongue can be called kisses.

They let you rest for a blessed moment. Then Gaz's hands wrap around your middle and ease you into his lap, chest to chest.

As he does, Soap slides out of your guts. You hiccup, feeling Gaz's two cocks--both hard again, fuck--lean up against your stomach. You press your palms to his chest. Your forehead, too. You don't dare meet his eyes for fear he'll remold your will again.

Gaz's chest rumbles with a laugh. It's a low sound with an undertone like a growl. "You're tired, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Obviously."

He strokes over your hair and down your spine. "And still running your mouth."

"Hmph."

It makes him chuckle. "Don't be stubborn about it," he murmurs. "I'm not done with you yet."

"But I..." You trail off as he lifts you into the air and positions you over both erections. You stare down at them, biting your bottom lip. Your brain is so sluggish after that climax. You feel like a toy and you still don't think you hate it as much as you should.

"You can take it," he murmurs, guiding your hands to rest on his shoulders. "You'll take it just fine, yeah?"

He lowers you until you feel his tip nudge against your core. You shift instinctively to put your legs forward and rest your feet on either side of him.

"Good," he says. "Now, nice and slow."

He eases you down onto one shaft with slow, firm movement until he bottoms out.

"Ah..." Your legs twitch and you lean back, feeling that incredible stretch again. His other cock rests against your stomach, your clit, stimulating you even more with little grinding jolts.

"How's that feel?" he murmurs, taking a moment to steady you.

You stare at him with half-lidded eyes and a slack mouth. You hardly register he's speaking to you, much less that he's expecting a response.

Gaz chuckles and rolls his hips up. "Still running that mouth?" He murmurs with a touch of amusement. "Or have I finally shut it?"

"M-More, please," you manage.

He groans and grinds up into you. "Good answer."

He slides you back up, his flared tip stretching your entrance again almost to the point of popping out. Then he lets you sink all the way down again.

Up, down. You let your hands rest on his, wrapped securely around your waist, as he handles you like a doll. You let your head loll back again, exposing the column of your throat. You've been bit and tossed around and come on and in and fucked every which way already. What's one more bite? One more round?

His shaft pushes up against the front of your tight walls. You let out a drunken sigh, almost a laugh. You're ruined for human men. You're sure of it.

Every noise that leaves your mouth is like honey. Gaz's lips find your neck as his tongue traces over the mark Soap left. You left him have his way with you, and he wants to make it worth your while. He's more indulgent, more curious than Soap is. He notices when your moans quiet and you roll your hips as if seeking satisfaction just beyond your reach. "What's wrong?"

"Ugh." You scowl when he slows. You're still tight as hell, especially with how swollen your climax made you, but there's something you want more of. You reach down and begin to play with yourself, sighing at the feeling, but it doesn't help you the way you want.

His eyes lock onto the way you rub yourself. Very interesting. "Need something?"

"Could you, um... could you, like. Well." You look to the side. "Could you put it in my ass again?"

"That's a bold request. You liked Soap's finger, then."

You shrug.

Gaz chuckles and leans closer. "You're a mess," he murmurs.

You bite your lip as he eases you up and off his cock. Then he rests it--the same one, slick and dark--against your ass. Soap's hands come to his aid and spread you out from behind. You squeak in surprise.

Soap's voice is behind you. "Dirty girl. What would your kind think of you now?"

You don't dignify that jab with an answer.

Instead, you focus on steadying your breath and relaxing your body as Soap drags his fingers down through your slit to collect a sheen of slick. He slides one finger into your ass. Then two. Then scissors them, loosening you up.

You rock your hips back in little motions that drive him deeper. It sends pleasurable waves shooting down your whole body. You need more. "Oh, that feels good."

"Yeah?" Soap murmurs. "You want a little bit more?"

"Mmm!"

Soap hums. "What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Yes!" You buck your hips harder. "Please!"

Soap laughs. He replaces his prodding fingers with Gaz's tip once again. You close your eyes as his tip opens you up. There's a pinch as he eases up into the tight muscle right at your opening. Suddenly he feels way, way bigger. Keeping careful hold on you, Gaz eases you down a fraction of an inch at a time. You both know this hole isn't as forgiving. But God, does the squeeze feel good.

He sees your brows knit and pauses before he lowers you further. "Does this hurt?"

"I can take it."

"I know you can. I'm asking if it hurts."

"I said I can take it," you mutter. "I'm in control of my own actions. You said so. I want it all the way in."

"And I'm taking my time to make sure I don't hurt you. You're lucky I'm in a generous mood."

He lowers you a little more. Your core twitches around nothing. "Ah... It hurts a little, but it feels good."

"You can take more, huh?" he murmurs. "You're strong stuff, yeah?"

"Nnh... yeah..."

The way he presses into you stretches your sensitive spot from the back. Your core drools. A needy, wanton sound escapes your throat, and your hands latch onto his shoulders again. "Right there. Fuck."

He likes hearing you let yourself go. He likes that it's for him. "Yeah? That feels good?"

He lifts you up again and slides you back down carefully. His second cock catches on your core, the head grinding past your sensitive nub before it glides past and bounces to your stomach again.

Your back arches in his hands. You need more.

Gaz eyes you arching and squirming in his hold. It’s really something. "You're eager. Need satisfaction that bad?"

You nod frantically. Your hand shoots back down to your clit. You roll and rub frantically for more stimulation. You don't notice the way he watches you do it, even when you try to slide your fingers into your slit. Your clumsy fingertips slip around your drooling hole, but you can't reach that spot inside you he's stretching. It feels so good, radiating all the way to your toes. It would feel so much better if you could just…

There's a strangled noise from behind you. Soap watches you intently.

Gaz smirks at him. "You like the show?"

"Aye."

Gaz laughs. Your desperation is interesting all on its own. Maybe he should've teased you a little more instead of selfishly getting himself off first. Maybe he still could--

That thought comes to a screeching halt when your fingers ghost over his cock, the one still pressed lazily against your stomach. He growls but doesn't slow his pace. "Watch it," he warns.

Driven to desperation, you take it again in your hand again and guide it toward your pussy. You need it in you. You need everything he has to offer.

Soap watches with wide eyes. "Oh, she's playing dirty, isn't she?"

Gaz’s cock slides away from your too-tight hole again and grinds up your slit and against your nub instead. It feels good, but still, you groan in frustration as he sinks your ass all the way down onto his other cock. Then back up. You try again. "Just let me--"

"You're too damned impatient."

Soap chuckles. "I don't know, I kind of like it. Slip it in, human, see if it really pisses him off."

"No," Gaz retorts. "You're gonna hurt yourself like that. Stop it."

"Just the tip," you plead.

Gaz grits his teeth. You're really going to be his undoing, aren't you?

"Soap," he barks, "hold her."

Soap immediately does as instructed. He grabs your waist. He's much less gentle than Gaz, who releases your upper half to Soap's control. Gas stays in you, but grabs your hips to angle your legs open and up. He glares at you. Then he prods at your core with his thumb, smearing the slick dripping out of you all over your entrance. Then he thumps it with his other tip. Your breath hitches. You buck your hips up impatiently. The motion pushes only the very tip inside. Gaz knew it would happen, but still. His chest catches with a rough, strained sound. "Stop moving before you make me hurt you."

You bite your lip. "You can hurt me a little."

His eyes darken. He pulls your hips forward just enough to stretch you all the way around his tip. Fine. If you want to make things harder on yourself, he'll play along.

You suck in a breath. That's a lot of dick. Maybe too much dick. But hell, if you're already ruined for men your own species, you might as well go all the way. You gaze down at his shaft disappearing into you with a vacant smile on your lips. You really are the perfect sex toy for this. Both holes are positioned perfectly to take him.

Your expression and your words only stoke the fire in Gaz’s gut. There's a very specific feeling he has to tamp down when he sees what he does to you. A sense of primal, territorial satisfaction. He wants to devour you whole. The temptation is unspeakable.

He does his best to calm his nerves before he speaks, but his voice is tight. "Doing alright, love?"

"Better than alright," you purr. His member is pushing up against your sensitive spot, just like you wanted. Every subtle shift sends pleasure throbbing up your walls. You pulse and tighten up as if to pull him deeper in.

"That's good," Gaz breathes. "Just the tip."

You sigh happily as he pumps his hips into you just enough to keep fucking your ass. But he doesn't get any deeper into your core. You frown, trying to prop yourself up with your elbows against Soap's chest to see get a better view of where you're joined. Soap easily pulls you back against him. He cups one of his big hands around your breasts and starts squeezing and toying with it crudely. You huff and roll your hips.

Gaz hardly notices you squirming. You feel too good trying to take him in. You're close to doing it, too. The way your walls are tightening and pulsating around him. He narrows his eyes at your blissed out expression. "You're... are you close? From just this?"

You nod.

Soap laughs. "You made her too greedy."

Gaz pushes into you a little harder, letting himself slip further into both holes. You moan like the stretch is the best thing you've ever felt. It's so slow. Exquisite. The rub of him inside you lights your nerve endings up like nothing else. The pace he sets has you seeing stars.

By the time he seats himself all the way inside you--to the hilt of both members--you're cumming with a weak keen, arching up between him and Soap, just as the sun is beginning to slip below the horizon.

That primal satisfaction radiates from his chest to the end of his tail in heavy, powerful waves. You've taken him so well. He reaches out and tugs your chin up to admire your expression.

"There you go," he murmurs. "You did good. Just like I asked."

You can hardly keep your eyes open. But his voice makes you feel warm despite the air blowing cold across your damp body. "Mm?"

Your awareness is fuzzy as Gaz keeps fucking you to completion and fills you up. At some point, you must fall asleep, because the next thing you know, you're cradled against a warm, broad chest and shuffled into the water. You loop your arms around his neck, eyes still closed, and hold on. But instead of taking you underwater again, he keeps to the surface.

Sometime later, you're stumbling back into your own bed, salt in your hair and your body exhausted beyond imagining. The next morning, when you wake up, you stare at the ceiling for 45 minutes, wondering if it all could've possibly happened. You vaguely remember the day before, but the memory feels far off and dreamlike. Until you take a shower and notice the myriad of bites on your shoulders and thighs and lips. You're bruised up pretty badly, actually.

You try to return to your normal life, but what you did itches at the back of your mind. Sometimes you still hear Gaz’s voice, his suggestions buried deep in your subconscious like a venomous barb. You don't sleep well. Your dreams leave you panting and sweating and no matter how much you try to take care of your constant sexual cravings by yourself, they never quite go away.

Not until you return to the docks one night.

You aren't sure what compels you to return. A memory. A compulsion. A siren’s call. But your feet steer you there without a thought, and the moment you step on the docks, two mermen are already there, waiting.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / [part 5]

more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist

thanks y'all! o(*￣▽￣*)o

[swappermanent]

Life In Retrospect (Part 2)

I ran my fingers along my neck again, as if expecting it to suddenly materialize, but all I felt was smooth, muscular skin. If the necklace was gone... did that mean this was permanent? The thought hit me like a jolt of electricity, raising my cock to attention.

I hadn’t expected this, hadn’t thought I wanted something so drastic. But now that it had happened—now that I was staring at the face and body of a man who was young, powerful, and exuded raw sexuality—I could see exactly why this was the wish the necklace had granted. Deep down, beneath the polite smiles and quiet resignation of age, I’d wanted this more than I could admit.

And seeing it, feeling it now… I knew it was right. This body was wasted on Mikey. But now, the thick mustache, the powerful jaw, massive shoulders, the rich, dark hair—they were all mine. All mine.

My hand drifted lower, sliding down over my—his—flat stomach until I felt the warm thickness of his cock, already hard in my grip. I moved to the bed, sinking down onto it as I leaned back and let my hands continue exploring. With one hand stroking my cock slowly, I used the other to feel up my smooth, firm chest, indulging in the primal thrill.

The pleasure built quickly, my breaths coming in shallow gasps, my new voice low and rough as I gave in completely. I stroked myself with a steady rhythm, feeling the warmth pooling in my core, spreading through every muscle, every inch of skin. The sensation was dizzying, almost overwhelming. Finally, I cameMy body tensed, a shudder running through me as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me breathless and grinning at the ceiling as I ran a finger across my stomach and brought it up to my mouth for my first taste. Fuck I could get used to this.

---

I settled into Mikey's life with surprising ease. The next few days were a whirlwind of hanging out with his friends, hitting the gym, running around town, and just enjoying the energy that came with this young, powerful body. I felt more alive than I had in years—every step felt strong, every laugh deeper, every meal tastier. Even the simplest things, like the weight of this body as I moved, brought me a thrill of satisfaction.

But about a week and a half in, the glow started to flicker. It was subtle at first—brief flashes of weakness, a strange sense of disorientation that hit me out of nowhere. I’d chalked it up to the gym, maybe pushing myself a bit too hard, but the feeling grew worse, and by the third day, it was undeniable.

One morning, I got home from a run, feeling the most drained that I had since the swap, and sat down heavily in front of my computer. A thought nagged at me. I pulled up the site where I’d first looked up the necklace and scrolled through the pages, scanning the text with growing dread. I found the entry that had originally described the necklace’s powers and read the section again, the words coming into sharper focus than they had the first time.

"The Amulet of Wishes grants the wearer the temporary experience of their deepest, subconscious desire. The magic is designed to fade with time, gradually encouraging the wearer to take action toward meaningful changes in their own life."

Shit.

I kept reading, my eyes darting over the ancient text as I searched for a way to make this last. My heart pounded with urgency as I came across the section I’d been hoping for: the conditions for making a wish permanent.

“In most cases,” the text read, “the wishes bestowed by the Amulet of Wishes cannot be made permanent, as they are based on creation—an inherent violation of the natural laws of the universe. Thus, the magic is destined to dissipate.”

My stomach sank, but I kept going.

“However,” it continued, “there exists one exception: the wish of a body swap. Unlike creation, a swap is an exchange of essences, preserving the balance of natural order. To make such a swap permanent, the grantee must transform their new body to better reflect their unique essence—through altering mannerisms, attire, personality traits, and any distinctive aspect that marks their identity. This process convinces the amulet that the body’s former inhabitant is no longer suited to reclaim it. Only then will the necklace bind the grantee to their new form forever.”

A spark of hope flickered in my chest, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. The entry concluded with a note on how to summon the amulet if it had already disappeared: an incantation, ancient and direct.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I whispered the words aloud. The room seemed to shift, the air crackling around me. I felt a familiar weight settle against my neck—the amulet, its cool metal pressing against my skin.

I exhaled slowly, a mix of awe and anticipation coursing through me. The first step was complete. Now, it was time to begin the ritual to claim this body as my own for good.

I stood up, looking at myself in the mirror—the sharp eyes, the rugged face, the powerful build that I’d inhabited over the last week and a half. This would take more than superficial changes; it would take commitment, subtle shifts in behavior, and the kind of confidence that came naturally to Mikey but had always eluded me.

“Alright,” I murmured to my reflection, feeling a surge of determination. “Let’s get started.”

Stay tuned for Part 3.

[heyheydidjaknow]

Two in a row! We’re back in business! We aren’t going for three in a row but I do want to at least acknowledge that Dazai exists if we’re doing the bsd thing now.

Kindling

You were supposed to be fun.

He remembered the day he met you in that coffee shop. He had an hour to kill before a meeting. The shop was dead— the local schools had not been let out yet— and you stood behind the counter, eyes flickering from the clock on the wall above the door to the textbook in front of you. He had never been there before. He never had much reason to bother around largely residential areas before then. He had never seen you before. But you were nice to look at, so he approached the counter.

He liked the look you gave him. Cold, annoyed, almost indignant, desperate in the overblown way students often are: it took you a moment to remember your manners. You must have been new in town. “How may I help you?”

“One black coffee, please.” He smiled politely.

You straightened yourself up, not bothering to hide the way your gaze flitted between him, your book, the clock. “How much sugar?”

He blinked. “I said—“

“You’re not a black coffee drinker,” you answered dismissively, clearly distracted. “I’ve served three guys today already who asked for black coffee and then asked for cream and sugar and— no offense, guy— I’m so not in the mood to waste more of my time.” You picked a pencil from between the pages of your book, grabbing a notepad from your apron. “So, how much sugar, and how much cream?”

“Do you know who I am?”

You paused at that, giving him a once over. “No,” you said. “Should I?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets, an easy smile crossing his bandaged face. “No,” he replied. “You shouldn’t.”

You tapped your foot against the ground. “Fascinating. So—“

“May I ask you a question?” He nodded at the book. “How come you’re studying so hard at this time of day? It’s not midterm season already, is it?”

You looked down at the floor. “No.” Your brow furrowed. “Why is this your business, exactly?”

“It’s not.” He shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

You swallowed. “Huh.” Regret. “I’m sorry for snapping at you; I’m in a bit of a rush to get this stuff done.”

“What sort of stuff?”

You held the pencil between your forefinger and thumb, rolling it back and forth between them. “I’m helping a friend with a project. I owe him one, and he’s in a different time zone so my part is due in a couple hours.”

He went on his toes, peering over the register to read the textbook’s text. “Forensic pathology,” he noted. “Is your friend a criminologist?”

You shook your head. “A writer,” you explained. “He needs a comprehensive explanation of how corpses rot, and I’m the only one he knows with an understanding of that sort of thing.” You pursed your lips. “What he doesn’t know is that I’m taking this class as an elective and that I also have no idea how a corpse rots. But I can’t tell him that, because then I’d be letting him down, and he’s put so much trust in me and helped me so many times—“

He stopped you. “That’s all?” He held his hands behind his back. “Well, that’s simple enough. Most anyone downtown can tell you that.” His smile brightened. “How about we make a deal? If you pay for my drink and promise that this won’t take…” He looked back at the clock. It was an hour off. He wondered if you knew. “If you promise it won’t take longer than forty-five minutes, I can give you all the grisly details of human decomposition, with added notes accounting for weather, location, and time of day.”

The look of hesitant relief on your face brought him a sense of satisfaction he had not felt in a long time. You took a deep breath. “Sir,” you nodded, “you have yourself a deal.”

“Call me Osamu.”

You were easy. That was what first drew him to you. You had no reason to lie to him, so you did not. You had no reason to respect him, so you treated him like anyone else. The two of you— at least on the slice-of-life flavored stage the two of you played on— were equals, which he appreciated. Not many people offered him that luxury. The ones who did tended to disappear in the night for one reason or another, but you had no reason to, so you did not. Your problems were largely emotional. You stayed out of trouble. You were consistent. You were simple.

More important than your being simple, however, was the fact that you thought of him as a liar.

He remembered the conversation well. It was a Thursday. He had a couple hours before he was scheduled to help his newest apprentice train. The coffee shop was as slow as it always was and you, as always, stood behind it with a casual dismissiveness that would have gotten you beaten were you in different company. You had been in town long enough to know of the mafia— about a month— but had not yet accepted all of the stories you heard as true. You were recounting one of those stories to him, weight leaned against the counter as you described an incident regarding a teenager with phantom black limbs that could, without his so much as lifting a finger, murder a building’s worth of people in an instant.

“It’s bullshit, obviously.” You took a sip from your water. “I don’t get what they’re trying to prove; if they wanted to scare me, they’d come up with a half-decent lie.”

He did not have to smile around you— to you, he was nobody— but he did regardless. You were fun. “I know him,” he said. “I tutor him.”

You scoffed. “Yeah? What do you tutor him in?”

“Martial arts.” He took a sip from his coffee, which was thoroughly diluted with copious amounts of sugar and cream. You were right; it was bitter. “He’s not very good. He keeps trying to think of himself as a hand-to-hand combatant when he’s much more suited for support and has such a large inferiority complex that he loses all sense of strategy in exchange for a slavish need to validate his existence. In other words, he is close to useless.”

And, of course, you groaned tiredly. “Why are you encouraging them?” you asked. “You already know I know it’s bullshit; what kick do you get out of me already knowing?”

“I’m not lying,” he insisted, knowing you would not believe him. “I’ve been with him on hits before; a couple months ago, we killed thirty people in cold blood.”

And you laughed half-heartedly— as you should; to any regular person who did not know about how many bodies they had hidden, these claims were beyond ridiculous— and said, “Well, I knew the man that trained you, and I know he has a small dick, so what do you think of that?”

“I’m just glad to know he isn’t a pedophile.”

“Shut up and drink your coffee.”

He wondered what you thought of him sometimes. For the first week or so, you asked him questions, but you learned quickly that he was never going to give you satisfactory answers. You probably thought he was an ass, but you still talked to him like you would a peer, so he kept showing up. You must have thought he was a dick. He was sure that he was by your standards.

Once, on a Sunday, he had to attend a funeral. He had some time to kill before, so he walked into the coffee shop, clad in clothes nicer than what was typical, and ordered.

You looked him over. “You got a date?”

“No,” he replied, cheerful. “I have a funeral in an hour.”

You set his cup in front of him. “Oh. For someone you know?”

“My boss,” he explained. “He died the other day so we’re doing a service.”

“Oh.” Your brow furrowed, sympathy making way for confusion. “I’m… I’m sorry, but did you like him?”

He shrugged. “He was alright.”

“How long were you under him?”

He considered it. “A couple years?”

“Oh.” You nodded. “So enough time for your nonchalance to be weird. Cool.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s not as if he were my father.” He leaned back in his seat. “He was bound to get shot eventually; I’m just surprised it took this long.”

“He was what?”

“Shot,” he repeated. “In his sleep.”

You lowered your voice, looking around the cafe like someone would come out to shoot the two of you. “What,” you mumbled, “like an assassination?”

He nodded, looking around courteously. “Exactly. But it’s alright; they won’t stick around too long, I’m sure.”

“How come?”

He leaned his head on his hand. “I don’t imagine whoever did it could get very far out of the city. People are upset that he’s dead; I’m sure someone will lash out.”

You crossed your arms, swallowing thickly. “You know most people don’t speak so casually about people getting shot or whatever.”

“Well,” he shrugged again, “it happens often enough. It’s not like being formal is going to bring him back from the dead; who cares?”

“Don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you…?” You searched for the right word. “… I don’t know, shaken? He was a coworker, wasn’t he?”

He took a sip from his coffee. “Yeah.”

“So, isn’t his death a bit shocking?”

“Not really.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, actually, that’s a lie. It means I’m in line for a promotion, and I thought I’d have to wait for him to die of a heart attack for it, so I’m happy about that.”

You cradled your head in your hands. “I don’t think you get my meaning,” you insisted. “Do you not feel anything for his death?”

He set the mug down, meeting your eyes. “No,” he repeated. “I don’t.”

Your questions were simple. “Why?”

“Because,” he answered, “His death was inevitable and his life’s impact on mine was nearly nonexistent. All he did was give me orders; why would I care if he died?

You stared at him, meeting his cold, bottomless eyes with ones aflame with passion. “You sound like a serial killer,” you said.

His smile was as vacant as the rest of him. “I feel like one.”

You were fun until you were not. If asked to identify when your relationship— acquaintanceship, friendship, whatever you called it— stopped being fun, he would point to an otherwise inconspicuous Monday morning three weeks after the funeral. The two of you were splitting a cinnamon roll. It was your break and you got a discount and you had no desire to eat a whole one. You were talking about something silly— a friend of yours had broken up with your other friend— when you had stopped in the middle of a sentence to look out the window, seemingly distracted by something. Witnessing this development, he turned to look out the window too, only to see that the scene outside— an overcast sky, street populated by people rushing on their way to work— had not, in fact, changed since he last looked out the window. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

Your words were soft, eyes transfixed on the window. “I need to buy a decent camera,” you murmured. “Or write. Or paint.”

“You want to take a picture?” He looked out the window again. The scene was still the same. “Of what?”

“Leave me alone, Osamu.”

“I’m not messing with you,” he said. “I just have no idea what you could possibly be looking at.”

“Sure you aren’t.” You gestured with your fork, not looking in his direction. “You have a reputation. I refuse to indulge you in something you’ll clown on me for.”

He sighed. “You are being so over dramatic.”

You shot him a glare. “I told you my friend’s boyfriend got stabbed last week and you said, and I quote, ‘I wish I could say the same.’”

“Yeah, but that was a joke.”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not my fault you have a lame sense of humor,” he protested. “Why won’t you tell me?”

You peeled your attention from the window. “You wanna know what I think?” You gave him a cold smile. “I think you’re so neurotically obsessed with knowing everything that whatever joy you’ll get from knowing will be totally outweighed by the amount of pleasure I get at getting to make you squirm for once.” You stuck your tongue out. “You’re the nihilist. Suffer under the weight of your ideals, dipshit.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Do you seriously think I can’t get you to tell me? Is this the hill you want to die on?”

“What if it is?” You crossed your arms, mimicking his pose. “What if it was really emotionally impactful to me? What if it was literally nothing and I’m just fucking with you? What, are you going to torture an answer out of me?” Your smile grew. “I get why you do this now; this is fun.”

He huffed. “You’re such a child.”

“No, you’re just easy to read.” You reached for your drink, cradling it to your chest. “Lenin gave himself a heart attack when he came to power, you know; it’s not healthy to obsess like that.”

He crossed his arms. “It was a stroke,” he grumbled. “He died of a stroke.”

“See, like that. You have issues.” You crossed your legs. “ Maybe it’d be good for you not to know.” You covered your mouth as he leaned forward and adopted an all too familiar smile. “And so help me if you try and seduce me into telling you what I saw so help me I will laugh you out of the room.”

His face soured. He stared you down, and you stared back, unphased, because why would you not? The two of you were equals as far as you were concerned; this was how you treated your peers, and despite the fact that the two of you barely knew each other in any meaningful way, you knew him enough to know what the rules of the game he was trying to play were even if you did not know what it was called. “I could kill you,” he said. “I know plenty of ways to do it. I know how to make it hurt, too.”

And you, knowing you had won, replied, “You could, but you won’t. Who would serve you your coffee?”

The two of you stared each other down one last time. Finally– and mercifully, he liked to think– he looked away. “You win.” He tossed his hands up. “That’s all my cards.”

Your smile softened at the edges. “Good.” You sat up. “I’m not going to tell you what I was looking at, but I can tell you how to see it, if you want. That way you get to know but you don’t get to be all smug.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off. “Because I’m not allowed to win, right?”

“If I knew you weren’t going to try and rule-lawyer me, I would just tell you.”

“I spend too much time here.”

“You said it.” You set the fork and the cup down on the table. “Close your eyes.”

He groaned. “I am so not into meditation.”

“Is that backtalk I hear?”

“No, no,” he relented, closing his eyes. “I’m with it or whatever. Now what?”

Your voice lowered. “Breathe in.”

He inhaled.

“And out.”

He exhaled.

“Now,” you continued, “what do you hear?”

“You talking to me.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You asked.”

You huffed. “I– look, besides me, what do you hear?”

He paused, considering it. “People outside,” he said. “And the air conditioning unit. And the milk steamer.”

“Good.” He heard you sit back in your seat again. “And physically, what do you feel?”

“Isn’t this a panic attack thing?”

“Answer my question.”

He considered it. “It’s cold in here.”

Your voice was soft. He wondered how exactly this place stayed in business for how quiet it was. “What do you taste?”

“For giving someone who was just talking about flirting–”

“I have a point. What do you taste?”

He meant to say, ‘My mouth.’ What came out was, “Cinnamon and icing.”

He heard you smile. “Good. Open your eyes.”

He did, blinking at the light. You were back to looking out the window; the scene had not changed.

You nodded towards it. “Now, look and tell me what you see.”

He looked between you and the window. “A tree,” he said. “And people.”

“Look at the tree, first.”

The tree itself was, by his estimation, the same sort of tree that could be found just about anywhere in this part of town. There were fewer as the years went on, he knew– there was some government initiative to get rid of the trees on the side streets– but the tree itself was unextraordinary. “It’s dead,” he noted.

Your eyes didn’t leave the window. “It’s overcast.” You sounded a million miles away. “The light from the sun is hitting it from the other side, so the side that we’re on is dull and dark. It’s casting a shadow on the table, on your face.”

He looked down at the table. Sure enough, in the low light, cold shadows laid across the table like faint veins.

“The people,” you continued. “What do you see in them?”

He shifted his attention to the passersby. “People going to work.”

“How are they dressed?”

“Warmly.”

“What color are their clothes?”

“Dark. Are we at the point yet?”

“Almost.” You took a breath of your own. “Now, take all of those things together, and look back out the window again.”

He did.

Nothing had changed. His heart caught in his throat.

“It’s more now, isn’t it?”

He looked back at you.

You witnessed that mundane scene with the seeming awe of an acolyte before their god. It was as though you had never seen a street or a tree or the sun before, as though you would never see it again.

With a horrifying ache in his chest, he realized that he had never seen anything quite so beautiful or enviable as you in that moment. “So,” he asked again, voice tinged with an entirely unbecoming and uncharacteristic reverence, “what are you looking at?”

“I’m not looking at anything,” you replied. “I just remembered how lucky I am to be alive, here, with you.”

He wondered if you would mourn for his indifference like he would.

[dissociation-station123]

More than an Acquaintance

LADS: Sylus X Reader

~

It has been a month or two since Sylus walked into the bar. Each week you walked in he sat in your spot with confidence as if it was his all along. Slowly his eyes began to become less serious and melancholy after each greeting. Though you barely spoke much. Still the same old surface level conversations with a few more words added each time. Nothing has deterred you from your normalcy or routine.

You felt yourself slowly becoming more comfortable around him. Those warning alarms in your mind when you first encountered him dulled. He became a part of the scene of your life. Someone who didn’t know you but acknowledged you.

You did notice that the bar had got a bit more crowded than usual, people drawn in by his model-like looks. Hopeful for a chance to take him home. He always declined them in a way that still made them feel wanted. His social ability was admirable. Your curiosity peaked each time he denied an attractive person’s advances. A simple shrug your way and a raised glass is always his response.

He was an enigma. A puzzle that your brain needed to figure out. Yet you could not find a way to do so. The complexities of conversation are exhausting and you just wanted to relax, in the bar you claimed. So you simply existed in his presence.

Until he decided to set his sights on you. He was a storm you were not prepared for. You were comfortable standing in the water up to your ankles, unaware that letting him in your life, it was a sandbar.

~

“Y/N I refuse to allow you to pay.” Sylus shoves that damn black card in your face once again. You scowl which only amuses him further. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“This feels like I’m taking advantage of you. I can afford my drinks.” You rebuttal but he waves a hand in your direction and hands his card to the bartender who laughs. You sigh heavily but the moment the glass arrives you happily take a sip.

You look over and he chuckles, you roll your eyes. “Such a brat…” He mutters and you bite your cheek. His banter towards you recently has become more playful. Yet based on your observations, it seems to be some kind of defense he uses, so you haven’t given it much thought.

“Try this.” Sylus passes his glass over to you and stares down expectantly. Your eyes narrow as you assess why. He scoffs in amusement, “Tell her I didn’t poison it.” He motions towards the bartender who cackles in response.

“He paid to have this whiskey imported. Just got it in this morning. It’s top tier. Worth a try.” She smiles kindly, bringing over a new glass and setting it in front of you, pouring the contents into the bottle.

You swirl the liquor and then bring it to your lips. You look up and he is watching with a content expression. Waiting patiently for your critique. You take a sip with caution. Your eyes widen as you swallow. It is very smooth. The burn is satisfying and not harsh like the usual cheap bourbon you drink. “Mmm…” You nod with satisfaction.

He looks pleased with himself after your response. “One of my favorites. I knew you would appreciate it.” You take a longer drink humming. You give him a thumbs up and he chuckles.

“Please refrain from telling me how much this cost you. It would make me enjoy it less.” You warn him with a glare and he smiles brightly.

“I love seeing the expressions you make when I ruin things for you. One of the reasons I keep coming back here.” He teases you ruffling your hair, his light touch no longer fazing you.

“Sadist.” You mutter but you smirk as you finish off the fancy whiskey. The bottle still sits between you so he pours you more. You glance at him and he just nods, letting you know it’s fine. You gladly drink oblige.

You want to ask him why he came here. What brought him through that dingy wooden door. It felt like a line that both of you weren’t ready to cross just yet.

“It cost…” you gasp and reach up covering his mouth in a panic. His eyes crinkle with mirth, his lips soft against your palm.

“Sylus…” You warn and then feel his teeth dig into your flesh gently. “What are you, a dog?” You remove your hand chastising him and he laughs.

“Sweetie, I’ve been called that and more.” His voice drips with seduction, naturally. You almost feel jealous about how easy it is for him. How easy it is to make your skin heat up with a string of words and tone.

You roll your eyes, your frustration directed more to yourself than to him. Your fumbling and awkward demeanor forever being called cute.

“What are you thinking about?” Sylus leans closer, as he sips. Those red eyes scanning your face in curiosity. You shove him away but he still waits for an answer, never offended.

“Nothing.” You say the usual reply and pour more. He clicks his teeth. “Everything. All at once.” You continue and he looks intrigued, resting his chin on his hand.

“The curse of the overthinker.” He says and you nod. “Must be difficult.” You nod unable to maintain eye contact. “It’s better to just live in the moment. You should give it a try sometime.”

A prickle of irritation runs down your spine. “As if it’s that easy.” You growl not meaning to sound so annoyed. This does not deter Sylus, it almost looks as if it excites him.

“It could be.” His voice so matter of fact, you mock him. Your body freezes as he grabs your chin and tilts it towards him forcing you to face him. “Don’t be such a wimp.”

Rage bubbled to the surface, the kind that had been building up for years. A dam that had been battered and never repaired. The cracks slowly leaking over time, bursting to life. “That look is intoxicating.” The arrogant bastard spouted out with a twisted mannerism.

“You are fucked up Sylus. I’m sure that’s how you ended up here at this shitty bar.” You say venom laced in your words which only made him smile larger.

“A similar broken soul.” He says nonchalantly with a shrug. “I wish I could wear my expressions as freely as you do.” He admits his face showing nothing.

“You could.” You say condescendingly, “You're just a wimp.” You grab the bottle from the counter and take a long swig directly. This conversation seemed dangerous. A rough way of getting to truly know each other.

His eyes lower for a millisecond. Then he releases your chin and his whole body shakes as he laughs, a genuine sound. It bounces around the empty bar.

“Closing time.” The bartender reminds us as you continue to grimace at him. She nervously looks back and forth. You take in a breath, burying the anger as fast as it had appeared.

“Already…” Sylus mutters looking at his phone surprised. “That’s a shame.” He almost looks truly disappointed. You felt bad for snapping back at him.

“Are you hungry?” You ask him and his eyebrows raise. “Well?” You begin to gather your things as he processes your question.

“Are you inviting me back to your place?” He asks cheekily and you groan. You elbow him as he tries to move closer.

“Hell no! There is a pizza truck down the street.” You counter as the bartender closes his tab and tosses the empty bottle of expensive whiskey in the trash. You see her laugh, you both become a form of entertainment for her.

“That makes more sense. You would never be so bold.” He says as he starts following you out. You turn to him, crossing your arms.

“Are you hungry or not? Cuz this can be goodnight.” You stand tall even as he towers over you. “But it seems you weren’t ready for the night to end yet. Need to be distracted from something a bit longer.”

A strange silence fills the space between you. You see him contemplating if he has let you get too close. “So clever. Yes I can eat.” He opens the door for you and you walk out without a response.

~

You watch him stare at the grease as he lifts the large slice of pizza. “It won’t kill you.” You say as you take a large bite and make a pleased sound. The bread is the perfect combo to soak up the alcohol.

“Says you…” He whispers, hesitant but takes a tiny bite. You smile when he goes for a bigger one quickly after.

The metal bench was cold even through your jeans, the air felt good against your flush face. The night was quiet as you both ate without speaking another word. The strange comfort of having someone beside you is nice for a change. You admit you weren’t ready to go home either.

“You are a kind person.” Sylus speaks up taking you by surprise. You see he has finished his food in record time.

“You don’t know me.” You say matter of fact. Your thoughts tell you differently. Everyday bombarding you with mistakes from your past. This man, this stranger who appeared could not understand.

“It’s your actions. I can tell that those who see you regularly appreciate you.” He continues, and you don’t know how to respond. You don’t want to accept this.

“You never once make me feel unwelcomed. I know you could tell I was bad news the moment your eyes landed on me.” He explains as you finish your slice. You hold out your hand to take his napkin to toss. He grabs it and kisses your knuckles brazenly.

“Napkin weirdo.” You scold him and he chuckles, handing it to you. You get up and throw them away. Sitting back down and lifting the water bottle to your lips you take a long gulp.

“I want to get to know you.” Sylus blurts out and you finally look up at him. He looks like when you first met him, stoic and serious. “Don’t you dare utter why.” His voice is demanding and leaves no room to rebuttal.

“Why should I get to know you?” You ask instead. You see him processing your question. Giving it true consideration. You sense he was not used to others questioning him.

“It would be fun. Probably unhealthy and addictive. Just like your bourbon.” He was so confident. Shame probably was not a concept he could comprehend. It was damn intriguing.

“Tell me why you walked into the bar.” You borrow his temerity, wearing it for a second. It felt foreign and strange but not wrong.

“Love.” He says the word like a curse. You are taken back by the pure disgust on his face. So much emotion, you wonder what that feels like.

“So a broken heart then?” You ask and he just nods. “One sided?” Sylus bites his lip and if his expression was not so somber you would have found it attractive.

“Have you ever been in love?” He does not answer but counters. The past creeps up into your peripheral and you cringe. “That was a yes.”

“I was married once.” You answer, “But not sure if it was love. I felt numb most of the time. Or anxious.” He frowns at your statement, a slight sense of anger lingered in his eyes for a second.

“You didn’t deserve that.” You turn to him with a flat expression. He looks back still so assured. It pissed you off now. The way this man could ignite the flames long put out.

“I could have. Stop assuming.” You shiver as the wind turns bitter. You look at the time and sigh. “I like it when you're at the bar.” You finally admit and he nods.

“I’m glad I walked in.” He responds, again the calm silence. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you home.” He stands looking to the sky at the moon above. He looks weary and forlorn. Yet so very beautiful. There is no way he was real.

“I can walk by myself. This is my turf anyways. I’m not too far.” You explain stretching. The food settling nicely, your mind not clouded by the haze of liquor now.

“There has been some increase in muggings in this area. Let me feel like a good guy just this once.” You nod and he thanks you. You walk next to each other shoulders inches apart. You know he is slowing his pace based on his long legs. He was thoughtful even if he wanted to be painted as the opposite.

“Here we are. Have a goodnight Y/N.” Lost in your thoughts you arrived home quicker than expected. On autopilot you look around and then thank him.

“Night.” You say and go to place your key in the door. As you turn to open it you come to a realization. Sylus leads you to your door as if he had walked it before. You turned around but he was already down the street. The warning bells that first alerted you rang again but there was this strange tingle in your chest, possible excitement?

[itslovelyamari]

I'm Here

Ellie x Reader

TW: violence, mentions of wounds

Switch POVs alot 😓

ELLIE'S POV:

The storm clouds that had threatened all morning now loomed heavy over Jackson as Dina came stumbling through the gates, panic etched across her face.

"I lost her!" Dina's voice cracked as she tried to explain, her breaths coming in gasps. "We were on patrol, everything was fine, and then... I don't know. I lost contact with her. I've been searching, but I can't find Y/N!"

Ellie froze mid-step, her blood turning cold at Dina's words. The rest of the group—Joel, Maria, Jesse—gathered quickly, concern rippling through the air like a lightning strike.

"Where?" Ellie demanded, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

"An old warehouse, a couple miles east," Dina said, guilt written all over her face. "We split up to check different sections, and when I called out, she didn’t answer.”

Ellie didn’t wait for more details. Her boots hit the ground hard as she sprinted toward the stables, her mind racing.

---

Y/N'S POV:

Meanwhile, Y/N crouched low behind a metal shelf in the dimly lit warehouse. Her breaths came shallow and quick as she clutched a jagged piece of glass in her trembling hands.

David's footsteps echoed ominously through the building, his cruel voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"You're a tough one, aren't you?" he taunted, his tone sickly sweet. "But you can’t hide forever, sweetheart. Come out, and I might go easy on you."

Y/N bit her lip to stifle a sob, her heart pounding in her chest. She refused to give him the satisfaction of her fear. She tightened her grip on the glass, determined to make him regret ever laying a hand on her.

Title: I’m Here

The air in the abandoned warehouse was stifling, thick with dust and the stench of decay. Y/N crouched low behind a rusted shelf, her breath hitching as David’s footsteps echoed closer. Her hand trembled as she clutched a jagged piece of broken glass she’d found on the floor.

She had been lucky to escape his initial grab, twisting out of his grasp when he lunged at her in the dark. Now, she was running out of options—and energy.

“Come on now, don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” David called out, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. “You’re only making me more excited. I like a little fight.”

Y/N clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to silence her shallow, panicked breathing. Her heart thundered in her chest, each beat a countdown to when he would find her.

“Think about it,” he continued, his boots crunching over broken debris as he prowled closer. “No one’s coming for you. It’s just you and me, sweetheart. We could have some real fun…”

She clenched her jaw, fury momentarily overtaking her fear. She wouldn’t let him win. Not like this.

David suddenly kicked over a stack of crates, the loud crash making her flinch. “Hiding won’t save you!” he snarled, his voice shifting from playful to menacing. “You think I don’t know where you are?”

Y/N’s grip on the glass tightened, her palm slick with sweat. The faint shuffle of her movement betrayed her, and David’s head snapped in her direction.

“There you are,” he said, his lips curling into a predatory grin.

Y/N bolted, sprinting out from behind the shelf and darting toward the far end of the room. David gave chase, his longer strides closing the distance quickly. He grabbed her arm, yanking her back with brutal force.

“No!” Y/N screamed, twisting and thrashing with everything she had. She drove her elbow into his stomach, earning a grunt of pain, but his grip didn’t falter.

“Feisty,” he sneered, slamming her into a nearby wall. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and the glass shard slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor.

David leaned in, his face inches from hers. “It’s over, sweetheart. Just stop fighting—”

Y/N brought her knee up hard, striking him in the groin. David howled, doubling over as he released her. She scrambled away, her hands frantically searching for the shard of glass.

“You little bitch!” David roared, recovering quickly. He lunged at her again, and this time she managed to roll out of the way, grabbing the shard as she did.

“Stay back!” Y/N shouted, her voice trembling but defiant.

David laughed, his eyes gleaming with sadistic glee. “Or what? You’re gonna cut me? Go ahead, try.”

He moved toward her again, and Y/N slashed wildly with the glass, grazing his arm. Blood seeped through the tear in his jacket, but he barely flinched.

“Better than I thought,” he muttered, his tone almost admiring. “But you’re still mine.”

Desperate, Y/N threw a nearby metal pipe in his direction, creating a loud crash that distracted him just long enough for her to dart behind another set of shelves. She crouched low, her body shaking as she tried to calm her breathing.

“You can’t run forever,” David taunted, his voice echoing through the room. “I’ve got all night, sweetheart. And when I find you, I’ll make you pay for that little stunt.”

Y/N’s vision blurred with tears as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t want to die here. She didn’t want to let this monster win.

Suddenly, a voice pierced the tense silence.

“Y/N!”

Ellie.

---

ELLIE'S POV:

Ellie rode hard, her heart a storm of worry and anger. By the time she reached the warehouse, Joel, Jesse, and Dina were not far behind her, but Ellie didn’t wait for backup. She crept through the front doors, her pistol drawn, adrenaline making her senses razor-sharp.

“Y/N!” Ellie called out, her voice echoing through the cavernous space.

The sound of movement caught her attention, and she turned just as David emerged from the shadows. Before she could react, he was on her, a gun pressing into her back as he wrenched her arm behind her.

"Drop it," David hissed in her ear, his breath hot and rancid.

Ellie growled in frustration but complied, her gun clattering to the ground.

"Ellie!" Y/N’s voice rang out, high and panicked. She watched from her hiding spot, horror coursing through her veins.

David smirked, tightening his hold on Ellie. "Looks like she cares about you. Maybe I’ll have some fun with both of you."

David let out a strangled cry, his grip loosening on Ellie as he stumbled forward, blood spurting from the wound. He collapsed to the ground, choking on his last breaths.

Ellie turned, wide-eyed, as she saw Y/N standing there, the bloodied shard still in her hand. Y/N’s chest heaved, her knees buckling as the reality of what she had done crashed over her.

She fell to the floor, gasping for air.

Y/N'S POV:

Hope surged through her, but it was short-lived as David’s predatory grin returned.

“Well, well,” he murmured. “Your girlfriend’s here to join the party.”

David moved toward the sound of Ellie’s voice, leaving Y/N just enough space to collect herself. Her survival instinct kicked in. She gripped the shard tightly and began to creep after him, her steps silent.

When she saw him grab Ellie and hold her at gunpoint, fury overtook her fear.

“Drop it,” David growled at Ellie, shoving the barrel of his gun against her back.

Ellie hesitated, her green eyes locking briefly with Y/N’s over David’s shoulder.

That split second was all Y/N needed. Fueled by adrenaline, she charged forward and drove the shard into David’s neck with all her strength.

His body jerked as the glass sliced through flesh. Blood sprayed out, painting the walls and floor in violent streaks.

David gurgled, his hands flailing as he dropped his gun. He stumbled forward before collapsing, choking on his own blood as life drained from him.

Y/N stared at his body, her chest heaving as the weight of what she’d done settled in. Her hands were covered in blood—his blood—and her vision swam.

“Y/N!” Ellie was at her side in an instant, grabbing her shoulders.

The touch startled Y/N, and she flinched, backing away. Her body shook violently, and her breaths came in

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, babe,” Ellie murmured, pulling Y/N into her arms. “It’s over. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Tears spilled from Y/N’s eyes as she clung to Ellie, her head buried in her chest.

Ellie stroked her hair gently, whispering soft reassurances. “You’re so brave. It’s over now. I’m never letting anything happen to you again.”

Joel and the others burst through the door moments later, their eyes scanning the scene. Joel’s gaze softened as he took in Ellie holding Y/N, both of them shaken but alive.

“We’ll take it from here,” Joel said quietly, signaling Jesse and Dina to check the area.

Ellie helped Y/N to her feet, her arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Y/N leaned heavily on her, still trembling, but Ellie held her steady.

“We’re going home,” Ellie promised, her voice firm. “And I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

As they stepped into the cold night air, Y/N clung to Ellie, finding solace in her warmth. The storm had passed, and for the first time in hours, she felt safe.

[xtarmanderx]

I’m 2k into another fix it fic but this time it’s a crossover. Super excited about it, might even have it up by the end of today, but I thought I’d share a snippet. You don’t need to watch SWAT for this, I just threw in my rare pair because I love them.

-

Rocker’s in the middle of giving a world class blowjob when the doorbell rings. He sucks hard and dirty, satisfaction filling him as Luca’s load shoots down the back of his throat, and gentle fingers tug him off a moment later. The doorbell rings again, followed by an impatient knock, and he growls in annoyance. “Stay here.” He says, rising up from the floor and swiping the back of his wrist against his mouth. “I’ll tell them to fuck off.”

“Could be a friend.” Luca says, already tucking himself back into his shorts. Snorting, Rocker storms to the front door and swings it open as someone knocks.

“What-“ He stops short at the sight of his twin carrying a case of craft beer, eyes red rimmed. “I’ll kill him.” He hisses, anger burning in his veins at the sight. Evan Buckley is about to be a dead man walking and -

“My fault. Not his.” Tommy says, voice scratchy and low. “This a bad time?” His words throw Rocker for a moment and he shakes his head. Somewhere, deep down, he already knows his twin has done something monumentally stupid and self-sacrificing. Fucking idiot.

“Come in. I just finished blowing my boyfriend in his recliner.” Rocker says, holding open the door. Tommy’s brow wrinkles and Rocker laughs, dragging him inside by taking hold of the beer. “At least you brought the good shit.”

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hii ivy!! i was thinking for the 1k celebration, the prompt "I'm not cute" "sure, keep telling yourself that" for James??

I love your thinking very much, love! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ Thank you so much for requesting <33

ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ JAMES POTTER #48: "I’m not cute." "Sure, keep telling yourself that."

It was a regular weekend, and you and James had somehow ended up at Madam Puddifoot’s. Not by choice, mind you, but because Sirius had practically shoved the two of you through the door, cackling as he held it shut from the outside until you resigned to staying put.

You glared at James from across the small, heart-covered table, wrinkling your nose at the frilly pink tablecloth. “This is your fault, you know.”

He grinned, dimples out and completely unbothered by the absurdly decorated café. “How is it my fault?”

“You’re the one who made me come to Hogsmeade with you. If I’d known we’d end up here, I’d have stayed in the common room.” You huffed, crossing your arms as he laughed. “I am not cute enough for this kind of place.”

“Oh, really?” He cocked an eyebrow, leaning in with that smirk that was just begging to be slapped. “I think you’re very cute, love. In fact, the cutest.”

You shook your head, scoffing as your cheeks flushed. “James, I am not cute.”

“Mm, sure.” He leaned back, crossing his arms and looking you up and down like he was challenging you. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You groaned, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response and instead busied yourself with your teacup. “No, really,” you said, setting it down with a soft clink. “I’m a Black. Black sisters don’t do cute—they do cool, mysterious, edgy.”

James snorted. “Oh, yeah, definitely edgy. When you fell down the stairs last week, that was really mysterious.”

You swatted at him across the table, your face heating up at the memory. “That was a one-time thing!”

“And when you tried to hex Snivellus and ended up accidentally hexing yourself?”

You pursed your lips. “My wand slipped.”

“Mhm. And when you spilled pumpkin juice on McGonagall?”

“I slipped again,” you mumbled, crossing your arms tighter as he dissolved into laughter.

“Oh, love,” he said, reaching over to grab your hand, his thumb tracing circles along your knuckles. “You are the cutest, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You scowled at his hand over yours but didn’t pull away. “Stop calling me cute. I’m intimidating.”

“Yes, absolutely terrifying,” he agreed, nodding seriously before cracking a smile. “I mean, look at those fierce little eyes and that tiny, scrunched-up nose. Positively horrifying.”

You sighed dramatically. “I’ll hex you if you keep this up.”

“Sure you will.” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “I mean, you’ve done it so successfully before.”

You lifted your chin, doing your best impression of a dignified, aloof Black sister. “I don’t need your cheek, Potter. I am not cute.”

He raised a challenging eyebrow. “Right. So if I said, ‘Merlin, you’re adorable,’ you wouldn’t blush?”

“Exactly,” you said firmly, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Merlin, you’re adorable,” he said instantly, eyes trained on your face.

The color rushed to your cheeks faster than you could stop it. James laughed, squeezing your hand as he watched you squirm.

“You know what, Potter?” you muttered, feeling like an absolute fool.

“What’s that, darling?”

You leaned in, narrowing your eyes. “I think you’re cute.”

“Oh, now she’s trying to dish it back,” he said, beaming at you. “Sorry, but cute’s your title around here.”

You pouted, biting back a smile as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. It was enough to make your heart do an embarrassing little flip.

“Keep pouting, love,” he murmured, his voice low and soft. “It only makes you cuter.”

You groaned, but this time you couldn’t hide the grin. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re cute.”

“Stop calling me cute,” you said, leaning forward to poke him in the chest. “Or I’ll start telling people you sleep with a stuffed lion.”

James gasped, feigning horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

“You wouldn’t expose Leonard like that,” he whispered, clutching his chest.

You blinked. “You named it?”

He colored slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well—uh—what do you expect? I’m not a monster.”

Unable to keep up the act, you burst into laughter, nearly doubling over as James turned a charming shade of pink.

“Alright, alright,” he said, laughing along with you. “Maybe you’re a little mean.”

You smirked. “Thank you.”

“But still cute.”

“James!”

“Sorry, love,” he said, leaning over the table to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Can’t help the truth.”

You sighed, finally giving up. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re cute,” he repeated cheekily. “But don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret, yeah?”

You fought the smile that threatened to take over. “Fine. But if you call me cute one more time, I’ll tell Sirius about Leonard.”

He chuckled, resting his chin in his hands and looking at you with adoring eyes. “Worth it.”

[were-changing-cake-vaults]

OUROBOROS

Set after session 3. I am so normal about them lol

Now that it isn’t going to kill him, Etho grabs his snail and runs to a small corner in his copper home. After all of that, he needs something to hold, as well as the sweet metallic sting that emanates from his walls, to ground him.

He doesn’t know why he’s freaking out like this, but it’s probably the cows. The cows that he killed. The cows that burned Tango’s house down. The cows that sent Scar on a goose chase, exacting revenge on the wrong people. Yeah, it’s the cows causing Etho this whole hullabaloo.

He can hear Bdubs complaining in his own stone mausoleum of a house next door.

(Earlier, he had caught wind that Bdubs hadn’t done anything remotely ‘tough’ to the Bam trio, and it got him points on that silly board of theirs. Wasn’t it Bdubs who had suggested they target them? Him who brought up the idea of being the Tuff Guys in the first place; placed himself as leader? Bdubs who, completely out of character, had said that alliances meant nothing?)

Etho tries to block out the noise, take in the feeling of grass underneath him, the residual smell of smoke in the air. In front of him, his snail moves in circles, unsure where its directive has gone. Back to the cows. Unfairly, he had killed them. Unfair is the wrong word here- cruelly? Definitely cruel more than unfair; unfair means he did it to an advantage on his part. Etho wasn’t doing it for the advantage, he was doing it for-

(Last season, he would’ve been doing it for Grian and Cleo. Season before that, for Skizz and Tango and Impulse. Before, before…)

The muffled voice of Bdubs makes itself clear for a single moment: something about sick satisfaction. He’s either complaining about Grian, or he’s yelling at the man himself. If anyone talked back, Etho couldn’t hear it. The snail is still going in circles.

(Funny, how the brain will focus on the things you don’t want to hear. Funny, too, how cyclical everything is, when it involves him. Funnily enough, his mind conjures the snake eating its own tail, the one with venom dripping from puncture wounds.)

Etho grips the grass underneath him and lets go, once, twice. The past few days haven’t seen a drop of rain, which means everything had turned a weird, dead yellow just before this session. A hollow huff forces its way out of his chest, body naturally laughing at the patterns in everything. The snail, for the first time, expresses a layer of depth more than directive and changes direction, heading towards the door. He watches it go towards the parched fields.

Etho breaths in, holds, breathes out. Pushes himself up onto unsteady feet, holds onto the oxidizing wall for support. Pushes off of that too. Listens once more- Bdubs has stopped shouting, and now the gentle quiet of nature has returned to the air. The weight that was sending him spiraling has left him, along with his need to question why.

(Because it had taken all of 10 minutes for him and Bdubs to get into their first argument of the season. Because he keeps thinking about horses, and cows, and snails and snakes biting their own tails until they choke. Because once upon a time, he had half-promised some semblance of protection, and it literally blew up in his face. Because neither of them know how to be without the other, it always goes bad for both. Because Etho cannot stop reviving something that has been dead for years.)

He opens his eyes, and walks away, towards the family he was promised.

[siolixz]

♔Of Love and Loyalty♔

+18

Part 3: the end.

<Part 2><Part 1>

Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader

Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She has already been through enough by now and Oz's ruthless ambition finally meets the satisfaction of power. Hope you guys like it- I spent most of my day writing this and I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I'll fix them when I wake up. Please, remember that MY Oz has been changed a bit from the show Oz- in order to make a "x reader story" I gotta humanize him, while also keeping him at least half true to the masterpiece Lauren created. I have enjoyed writing this story sooo much. Everyone is 18+ and consenting.

Words: 6.2k

Enjoy and give feedback If you want :)

Warnings: mentions of violence, vulgar language, age-gap relationship, smut ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡° )

You don’t remember how you got here. 

First you remember talking to Oz about something on the phone early in the morning after a delivery- then you remember going home to sleep and when you arrived- there was nothing. 

What the fuck happened? There was a guy- he came towards you. Then you looked at him- then he; he punched you? So that’s why you have a splitting headache. Everything felt like a dream- were you dreaming right now?

Are you sleeping? Why is everything so dark? 

You could hear voices, faint voices but they were there. Someone grabbed you by your arm and forced you upright. Now there was light everywhere and your eyes felt like they were on fire. Why is everything so fucking bright?

You blinked a few times and looked around the room; wow, how fancy. Where were you? The walls looked like they were carved and you only saw furniture like this when you looked at the TV. You saw a man there, a big guy; an enforcer, you thought, and in your dazed state you asked him “Where am I?” he looked at you and remained quiet. Great.

Your head was killing you. Jesus. Your hands and feet weren’t tied however- how odd.

You rapidly lifted your head when you heard the sharp sound of a pair of heels on the expensive floor, the door opened and- Oh, it’s her. 

“Look who’s awake.” Sofia softly smiled at you, she’s gonna kill you probably. Why does she have a plate of food?

“I brought you breakfast- you’ve been gone quite a while you see.” She walked across from you and placed the plate down on the table. 

“I bet you’re wondering what you are doing here.” she came over and sat next to you- crossing her legs and leaning back “You and I have a lot to talk about.”

She looked you up and down. You looked like the complete opposite of her, in your jeans and t-shirt, you were sure your face was smeared with blood too- where you got punched.

“Are you nervous?” she asked- her eyes were examining every inch of your face, trying to search for any signs of anxiety or sadness. You shook your head- “No.” you said. 

She said your full name and gave a long description of your family- what they did, what jobs they had, she mentioned your sister too, your poor sweet sister- how dare she speak their names. 

“When I saw you at Oz’s apartment or at the club, I didn’t get a good look at you. But I did see the way he looked at you.” a small smile danced on her lips “ like he would look away and you would be gone, like in a dream. How fascinating I thought. Some girls spend their whole lives wishing someone would look at them like that.” You listened to her and she came closer to you.

“You know, I really never noticed at the time- how young you are.” She once again looked you up and down, her voice became quieter

“Guess this is the same old tragic story, ‘orphaned street kid falls prey to some maniacs silver tongue’ . Yours won’t be any different, I can assure you. Maybe you believe it will- but it won’t.” She got up again and walked towards the table. She picked up a piece of toast and sat back down next to you.  

“W-why am I here?” you asked her, your throat was sore and that stupid headache was still there. 

“Why?” she looked surprised “Didn’t you figure it out by now? You’re our bargaining chip- you’re gonna help us. Greatly. Sal already has Oz, now all we need is to find a way to kill him.”  There was an indescribable emptiness in your stomach at her words

“Of course after I make sure he feels the same sort of sadness he inflicted on me-that’s where you come into play. ”

You looked down at your feet, trying to find words to pronounce. This is what this sort of life brings you, death. Only death and pain.

“What ma-makes you think he’s gonna su-suffer as much as you?” you muttered- more to yourself really. 

“The way he looks at you and sure- looks ain't enough, but the way he talked to me about you.” She exhaled loudly, like a schoolgirl talking about a crush, mocking you.

“Some people could only dream about that. You know, he talked about you at my brother’s funeral and the way he would compliment you before the deal at the club; but besides that-” her face got serious.

“-you’re the closest person to him. The only person who knows the in’s and out’s of the massive drug operation he built; his second in command, you have his ear and loyalty. You’re the last thing he has got left in this world, without you, he’s all alone.” she leaned back again.

“I almost feel sorry for you.”

You blinked, trying to make sense of her words- she continued, disgust laced in her words “You’re just a fucking kid.” 

There was a silence that followed that only made the gravity of her words more apparent.

“He put this on you. It seems to me- like you had a pretty good life- before all this. You studied well, you had a lot of friends- it seemed like your life couldn’t get better. Then the floods came and you turned into a street rat. Now you think him saving you was what you needed- but no. He’s a manipulator and a liar and he will stop at nothing to achieve his goals.” She took another deep breath and squinted her eyes at you in judgment.

“I mean, don’t you ever think what your parents would say? Seeing you with a man like that?”

“Don’t talk about my parents-” she was pressing your buttons and you knew that lashing out at her was at the cost of your own life right now.

“What would your mother say? Huh? I bet she wanted her little girl to find herself a good man, with a nice job, but no.. she found herself a drug lord.” Sofia snickered, half in disgust and half in pity. 

“You kn-know… Oz-“  you started and she cocked her head to the side

“He’s gonna kill Sal, just like-like he did his wife and son and th-then he’s coming straight for you.”  

“You have a lot of faith in him.”

“Yes I do.” Yes you did. If there was one thing you knew about him is that he was unstoppable, one way or another- he was going to get his way and he was going to win in the end. He had to. 

You lowered your tone and leaned closer to her “He’s always-always two steps ahead. He will come for you.” There was a twinge of something on her face, was it- was it fear? 

She got up and left afterwards. Thank god. You didn’t want to see her again.

Some time passed; your stomach was rumbling but you didn’t eat the food she prepared, you had time to think- think about what she said. 

What would your mom say? It almost brought tears to your eyes thinking about them. 

Late at night before you would go to sleep, since you were young she would always come in and kiss your forehead. That was your ritual. 

You smiled before it was quickly wiped from your face when you remembered what sort of life you had now. What would she think?

“My little girl” she would say “so brave” she’d probably be disappointed, so disappointed. Her and your dad too. They despised people like Oz, people shouldn’t murder and cheat their way to the top. He was the complete opposite of the man they were hoping you'd be with. 

They loved Robert, always inviting him at home to eat together, he was a good boy, he listened and he studied well, it’s better he left Gotham.

They would probably be frightened by Oswald, afraid to even look at him. This man couldn’t look acceptable to the parents of a young girl like you in a million years, from the big scar on his face to his gold teeth and manner of talking. 

They would rather hope for him to be your sugar daddy than you loving- loving him?

You knew at this point there was no going back, you loved him- you did. However wrong this was. You loved all of him and you were disgusting, both of you. 

You blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall. 

Was he gonna be sad you were nowhere to be seen or heard? Was he turning the place upside down when he saw you were gone? Was he for a split moment thinking you tried to leave, and this time, you were successful? Was he thinking all those nights and days spent by his side, next to him- over him and under him were all a facade when you stopped responding to his texts?

Someone called out your name.

 “I’m doctor Julian Rush... I am a psychiatrist” He looked at Sofia who was also next to him then back at you “I’m here to help you.”

Dr. Julian Rush weirded you out, severely. He put you down on a sofa and started asking you things, about your family, about how you felt- he had this ginormous light that would flash red that only worsened your state of defiance. It induced this sort of feeling in you- seeing it. 

It toyed with your emotions and feelings; it made you remember. You remembered everything.  

You told them everything.

From your earliest memories in Gotham, to your latest. Riding your bike down the street as a kid, running with your friends to your favorite diner before it closed, family nights, the happiness you felt when walking in your home, even if your parents or sister sometimes annoyed you- you were so rich in their love and warmth- so happy.

 You told them how you saw your apartment get swallowed up by the waves- how you tried to call; warn them, but to no avail.

At this point you were definitely crying your eyes out- holding yourself and trying to find some comfort.

Living in a FEMA camp was a nightmare, a nightmare that was never ending and it seemed to only become more like reality every damn day. You scraped by, you had to eat and live not just survive. So you joined some of the local boys there when they said they were going to find something to sell.

You never thought you would be stealing; you knew it was wrong and evil, but you did what you had to do. Life is cruel. 

You tried to remember everything. Not wanting to lose even a bit of detail. 

You had to be quick. Until he comes back. The first look at the Maserati waiting out there was like a piece of pie ready to be eaten- one of the boys went “wow” when he saw it and you were next to it like some hyenas soon enough.

At the first shot, you saw everyone scream and pick themselves up to run. You acted too slow that night, too busy with doing a good job to notice you were the one closest to him. 

The first time you looked at Oswald, you thought he was the scariest man you’ve ever seen in your whole life- especially because it was night time and because he just tried to fucking kill you. 

You told them how he made you do all those things. How lonely he was- how he touched you and looked at you sometimes. You told them you found kinship in one another, how you weren’t that lonely anymore and how utterly frightened he made you feel. Every.Damn.Day.

How you cried yourself to sleep all those nights, how you wanted to be better- be something more and this was the only way. This or death.

You told them about Robert too- how you hoped he had a better life, find someone who will love him and treasure him. How he tried to make you go with him and you tried to. By God you did, until he came back that night at the club. How he pushed a gun in your face and-and-

You blinked yourself out of it slowly, you knew you wanted out. This sick piece of shit was toying with you. With your emotions.

She brought you back in, reminded you about how he looked that night- what he said about you “you can remember, just tell us” the Doctor said.

His smell and all of him. A sick man, he was sick.

He wanted you all to himself and would kill you if that’s what it takes. 

You remembered your mother’s words to you at every family gathering or dinner “She’ll find a good man, one who takes care of her. I know it. Maybe a doctor, let’s hope.” You heard everyone laugh; so clearly- like they were there with you.

It seemed like they were taunting you now.  They expected so much more from you. 

You felt better whenever he was around you, how he would talk and walk to his jokes and smile. He was everything to you now. Late at night you would talk about all the things you wanted to do or have. You told him about your biggest dream in the whole world:

“A pen-penthouse” you whispered next to him as you were looking down at your fingers from your place on the couch. Maybe he thought it was stupid, how could someone like you ever achieve that?

“Yeah?” he turned to you “That what you want?” he asked, a small smile was gracing his lips.

“Yes. No one is above you or beside you; the c-city skyline.” If you closed your eyes, you could picture it—clear as day.

“With b-big windows so I can look outside and great big rooms with high ceilings- like in the movies.”

Julian told you Oz took all of that from you. Your old life- if he cared, if he truly cared he would’ve let you go that night. The bastard.

Sofia told you he manipulated you, he molded you into the woman he wanted you to be, you’re just a kid. You should have no part in this. 

It must’ve been hours since you haven’t eaten or drank anything.

You wanted to go back to Crown Point, have him tell you it’s all a bad dream “Let’s cook something, I’m starving-” he’d say and you two would chat until late at night. You slept the best with him in bed with you, even if he snored and it was hard to get him to turn over on the other side. You missed that. 

They grabbed you again- taped your mouth shut and stabbed you with something tiny, like a needle; it felt like a pinch. You proceeded to drive into the city and they shoved you through the back door- and then you saw him.

Tied down to a chair with tape, a towel shoved in his mouth, he started yelling and struggling when he saw you- making a gesture towards Sofia- like he wanted to strangle her.

This felt like a movie, like something you weren’t experiencing yourself- more like something you were watching from afar. Was this it?

The last moments of your life; they got you two and now everything has gone to shit again. 

Well you couldn’t say you weren’t close to getting what you wanted. 

You looked at him as they sat you down on a chair, trying to remember everything you could about him. You felt like crying but no tears came out.

“So, now that everyone is gathered here-” Sofia started “-I wanted to bring some stuff to the surface. Shine some light regarding some things.” She walked around you and back towards Oz.

He looked at you then back at her; confused. 

“Oz, while you were getting beaten blown up- me and your ‘Bonnie’ had a talk. It was a real eye opener, I would say.” she glanced back at you

“Do you wanna tell us why you decided to spare her life that night? Let’s have your side of the story.” Sofia took the towel out of his mouth-

“What the fuck is this shit? You’re a sicko- ya know that? Jesus Christ” He yelled while looking at you and her.

“-Oz, you wanna tell us, huh?-”

“Fuck you!” 

“Alright. Well I already know everything. Your little girl here sang like a bird-”

“-Fuck did you do to her?”

“Nothing. We just had a conversation, girl to girl.” she gave him a smile “She told me everything.” 

Oz looked at you, confusion clearly written on his face. You couldn’t even shake your head no- something was wrong. You could barely lift it. Did they give you something?

“You think she’s in love with you-” Sofia cocked her head to the side “-I’m here to tell you, she’s not. This whole thing that you two have- fear, fear ties her to you. It was all a lie. All of it.”

Oz looked at you again. Fuck you could barely lift your head, it looked like you were staring at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with him, your vision became blurry too.

You tried to blink away the feeling of falling asleep, what was happening?

Oswald called out your name and you heard him yelling at you that he was going to get you out of here. 

“You’ve ruined her life. Because you’re selfish and greedy and lonely. That night at the club- she wanted to leave- to escape, and you brought her back. You held a gun to her face and told her she’s not going anywhere-”

“Fuck you-”

“You know what Oswald? I think she would like an apology. Right here and now. An apology for the life she could’ve had.” 

You don’t know how but you managed to lift your head and look him in the eyes. You tried to move your legs- tried to wake the fuck up. 

“She wanted this.” He said. 

Julian grabbed your hand and placed it on the table. “From which hand was the finger that you cut? The left or the right- It was the left.” Sofia said.

It must’ve been the pain that woke you up halfway from the episode you must’ve been having because your eyes fully opened when you realized that they were cutting your finger. Shit, shit, shi-

You heard Oz call out your name and throw profanities towards Sofia. “All you gotta do is apologize, Oswald.-”

“-She knew what she was getting herself into I-”

“-Say you’re sorry-”

“-I told you I ain't got-”

“-Just say you’re fucking sorry!” 

The pain almost made your ears ring and you screamed into the tape that was on your mouth, trying your best to get away from the pain you were feeling. 

“This is fucking insane!” 

The pain stopped and you grabbed your hand, trying to get some relief. 

“You would’ve let me cut it.” Sofia’s voice was filled with disgust “Rather than admit you made her life worse, you would’ve let me cut it…you’re fucking despicable.”

You saw Julian grabbing something from his suitcase and bringing it closer to your arm. It looked like- like a needle. 

“I never realized it till now but this is almost like a high for you, isn’t it?” Sofia's voice was almost a whisper “Having someone so utterly dependent on you, her sole reason for existing is because you let her. You have her whole life in your hands… you’re a fucking bastard. What were you thinking huh? One day you were gonna make her Mrs Cobb and you two would live happily ever after?” 

Julian managed to get the needle in your skin and you felt a warmth spread across your whole body. You looked at Oz and saw how hard he was struggling against his restraints and the look of fear on Sophia's face when he actually freed himself.

What was she thinking- binding a 250 pound man with duct tape on a chair as old as this restaurant? You heard the commotion and you tried to stand up but black dots started to appear in your vision-

“She fell and hit her head- “ you felt like you were dreaming but you could hear and feel certain things. Like when he put you in the back of the car or when he placed you on the hospital bed. Maybe you died. 

“She’s gonna be alright, yeah?” 

“We’ll do anything we can, sir.” 

You thought you died and instead of the devils in hell torturing you for all the injustice you have done- there was nothing. Nothing. Just the sound of something beeping and the sound of voices sometimes, you could also smell- was this a hospital? 

There was also yelling and a voice. You knew that voice. 

“C’mon doll, open those big eyes for me. Please.” a hand brushing your hair back and one touching your hand.

“I did it. I’m the fucking king- all this shit ain’t gonna mean anything if you don’t wake up.” you heard him whisper.

“Please open your eyes, sweetheart. Please” 

When you finally woke up, it must’ve been late in the afternoon. The sound of rain softly touching the window and the beeping of the monitor was the only sound in the sterile room.

You swallowed, trying to wet your throat.

Your eyes felt like they were opened for the first time or like when you want to take a short nap in the evening and you wake up at 12am, they felt like they were sewed shut and only now you could open them.

You looked around the room and saw that your hand was being held- There he is, you thought to yourself. 

He was sitting on a chair, his head uncomfortably placed on his shoulder- ouch- that's gonna hurt later. You raised your right hand; placing it on your stomach and squeezed his with your left.

Once and then twice. 

“O-oz, Oz.” your voice was hoarse like you yelled all night long, you squeezed his hand again- harder this time. 

He finally lifted his head and looked at you. His eyes were so red and bloodshot; he must’ve been crying. 

Oswald looked shocked and then relief flooded his face- his eyes lit up- “Hey-” he said, then kissed your forehead.

“-you’re finally awake.” He hugged you and you placed your arms around his neck, slowly- but you did. 

“I did it.” his voice was muffled by the pillow and your neck “I showed all those sons of bitches.” You rubbed his back- not knowing what exactly he meant by that.

“I thought you weren’t gonna wake up.” he lifted his head and looked at you “They gave you something, pento- something. I thought-” He was getting choked up. This big strong bull of a man.

“Ye-yeah well, I was halfway to hell when I remembered I forg-forgot you here so…” you whispered.

He started laughing at that- touching your foreheads together; gold teeth gleaming.

After you left the hospital you told him you just wanted to sit and talk. So he drove you to a park, it was very secluded- you two sat on a bench overlooking the river.

 He explained to you everything he had done, from throwing Sofia in Arkham to getting all the crime bosses murdered by their second in command and now having something to hold over a congressman- Oswald would be running in the upper circles as one of them, not a lieutenant or a cripple- one of them.

 “What a smart man” you said while hugging the jacket you had on closer to you. Winter was already here. The city lights softly illuminating his face, he had the expression of a man who won it all- he was on top of the world. 

“Fuck- ya' know, I couldn’t have done it without you.” He looked at you softly and with admiration

“You are really something special kid.” he smirked at you, leaning back a little- trying to take all of you in. 

“Oz, you’re like fam-family to me.” You told him and saw as his expression shifted- something laid beneath his eyes- you couldn’t place a finger on what.

“You see - “ he grabbed your body and pulled you closer to him, his face mere inches from yours “You showed me, doll- you can be my greatest strength. But the thing about family is… they make you fight harder than you ever thought you could. They show you what you’re really capable of- even when you’re not seeing it.” he grabbed the side of your neck, gently brushing his thumb over your face. 

He was hesitant, a man so full of words and phrases was left without any in this moment. 

“It weakens you too and I think- I think all of this would not mean as much if you weren’t by my side.” He kissed you. 

You never in a million years thought you were ever gonna drive a Maserati- now you were in a Rolls Royce.

 A gorgeous purple color, something that once only showed his flamboyance now signals his power and influence over everything that moves in the underworld of Gotham, he was “the king” and you couldn’t be more proud of him and you. When the car rolled down the street people stopped and stared at it, talking among themselves and taking pictures. 

He told you that night, after a very expensive dinner- he had a surprise for you “Somethin’ real special” he got. 

You entered a very fancy apartment complex, the opulence of the place immediately striking you as the elevator whisked you up.

In the mirrored walls of the lift, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, catching a glimpse of the two of you.

 “You two look like a match”, you remembered Roxy’s words from the club. You were both dressed in black—the most expensive dress you owned, a gift from him- and Oz, who looked as if he had stepped out of a Fred Astaire movie. So poised, so polished. People with your kind of money didn't even open their own car doors.

You’d asked him where you were going, and he only replied, "It's a surprise," with that familiar glinted smile of his.

Oz was a man who relished in the influence his newly acquired power gave him. He’d been rapidly reconstructing Crown Point, making a name for himself not just among Gotham's underground elite but also rubbing shoulders with the high society.

It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that one day he’d run for mayor- and you’d be right by his side.

The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped out into the apartment, breath catching in your throat.

It was... breathtaking.

The entire space was so grand, it felt almost unreal, as though the world had bent its will to cater to him. To you. You almost couldn’t take it all in at once.

The high ceilings stretched above you, the living room expansive and bathed in the soft glow of a fireplace, the crackling warmth spreading throughout the room. But it was the view that stole your breath. The floor-to-ceiling windows revealed all of Gotham, its lights twinkling below like a blanket of stars.

You moved toward the window, your feet almost moving on their own as you absorbed the beauty. The city spread out endlessly, like a maze of lights and possibilities, and here you were—at the top of it all.

The heat from the fireplace surrounded you, making the space feel so warm, so alive, and for a moment, everything outside of this apartment, faded away. This was your world now. You could hardly believe it, after everything that had happened.

After everything he’d done to get here.

Oz stood behind you, his presence so steady and unwavering. You could feel his eyes on your back, his gaze warm, yet calculating, as if he was still analyzing the moment.

"Ya' like it?" His voice was soft but full of that familiar edge- he wasn’t just asking about the apartment.

You could tell there was something deeper in his question, an unspoken desire to know if you truly liked the life he had built for you, for the two of you.

You turned to face him, the firelight catching his features, casting soft shadows across his face. His eyes were dark, intense, as though he was trying to read your every emotion.

You met his gaze, the warmth of the room matching the heat you felt in your chest.

This is it, you thought. The beginning of everything, everything you’d ever wanted. And somehow, it felt like the end of something else.

You took a step closer to him, and for a moment, you simply stood there, breathing in the air between you. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and heady. 

“Of course” you proudly announced. You loved it- every inch of it.

Oz stepped forward, closing the distance with one smooth movement. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, the simple touch sending a shiver down your spine.

His voice was low, only for you to hear, “I made it happen for you... for us. All of it. Tell me, doll... you proud of me?” He came closer to you, grabbing your face. 

“Of course,” you said. Excitement gripped you and you knew him asking that sort of question meant he was in need of some love and appreciation. 

“You know-” you got out of his grip.

“-I actually want to see the master bedroom- maybe the sheets are purple too.” You laughed- the adrenaline you felt when his face changed to one of excitement as well turned you on and you left your shoes near the staircase that went upstairs- to the second floor of the massive penthouse. 

The icy cold feel of the floor didn’t matter to you as you almost sprinted to one of the doors upstairs - you heard him climb the steps and your heart started pumping. 

Even after all this time of making love to Oz, the electric rush that shot up your spine every time you saw that wild spark in his eyes- made you crazy.  You quickly took your panties off and got on the gorgeous bed. The bedding was so comfortable- like a cloud.

The door opened and you saw him. 

“You got some nerve, runnin’ away like that.” he said as he came close to the left side of the bed and grabbed the upper part of the dress, almost testing how easy it was to pull it off, you simply giggled at him. 

How were you ever afraid of this man? 

You rubbed your hand on his hard on and he gave you a shaky breath- still crazy about you. 

"Wouldn't be the first time you tried to disappear." He paused, eyeing you intently, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips "Turn around."

He unzipped your dress and undressed you- gasping when he saw you weren’t wearing anything underneath. You got on your knees and helped get him undressed too- before he would always leave his clothes on, always preferring to have only you naked when you were with him. Things change.

He climbed on top of you and you welcomed him between your legs. This man- all of him, you loved him so much. He gave you the whole world. You both groaned when he entered you and set a very gentle pace while kissing your neck. You put your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. 

“Tell me you’re proud of me.” He whispered in your ear

“I’m so proud of you- “ you gasped as he pressed himself even harder inside you “You’ve done so much for us-” he did it again, harder this time “And I love you” he started fucking you even harder, the feel of his greater thighs touching the underside of yours and the sound coming from your pussy were louder than your soft moans and his groans of pleasure. You squeezed his body with your legs.

“There’s-there’s-” the feeling of having him in you, while he pressed himself deeper and deeper, his body over yours as he was holding himself up on his forearms next to you- you’ll never get tired of it “There’s nothing-nothing standing in your way.” 

He kissed you, putting his tongue in your mouth “You’re so beautiful, doll” He kissed all over your face as he said that and squeezed your breasts as he pounded into you. “So fucking beautiful” his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes closed, deep in thought about how you felt around him. 

“Fuck- com’ here” he pulled himself out and got on his back, slowly touching the side of your body as you lowered down on his penis with your lips. 

Oz wasn’t the sort of guy that enjoyed small kisses near his manhood and soft touches, if he wanted you to suck him- he wanted you to get to business. 

He grabbed hold of your hair- not for dragging you up and down him but to help you. You climbed on his leg- to pleasure yourself while you’re at it, no? 

Your lips enclosed around his head and as you bobbed your head up and down him you tried to breathe through your nose and help yourself with your hands. One cradling his balls and one on his penis, up and down. 

His moans were like music to your ears as you pleasured him, whenever you would stop at his head and lick the underside of it, he would press himself even higher in your mouth.

“I love you, doll. I love you-” he would chant as you took him. 

You rubbed yourself on his thigh as you sucked him, your legs were almost shaking.

“You take me so good- you’re such a good girl- my good girl.” This man and his words. 

When you would get off of him to breathe, he would push your head down to lick his balls and then make you get up to suck him again. His grip on your hair was becoming even tighter, bringing you down on him until you almost choked and then back up again.

 He would thrust up into your mouth as he got closer to his peak, chanting your name and how much he wanted to fuck you.

“I wanna fuck you so bad-” He pulled you on top of him and you gave him a giggle as you sat on top of his cock- only exciting him more.

“You wanna ride daddy baby?” it was a new nickname he enjoyed to give himself, you don’t know what changed in him, maybe the way people in society looked at you two, Oswald Cobb and his much younger woman. You nodded excitedly and grabbed his length from down below.

Fucking such a powerful man- he was the king, you should be proud of yourself.

He ran the Gotham underworld with an iron fist, everyone was afraid and respected him while also loving him too- he gave them jobs, he gave them a place to sleep- he took care of people. 

“Oh, baby..” he pulled you out of your daydream as he grabbed your waist and dragged you up and down him “I wanna get you pregnant doll” 

Your stomach twisted when you heard that-in a good way. You felt butterflies in your stomach and your pussy only got wetter. His eyebrows were furrowed and his groans were becoming even louder- you loved how loud he would get when he got close to cumming.

 He grabbed your breast in his hand while the other held your waist- fingers gripping into the skin there and you grabbed his chest to steady yourself as you rocked yourself on him. 

His fingers readjusted themselves on your body, gripping even harder this time- he would push himself into and his movements became erratic when near his climax. You smiled at Oz as you saw him gasp and hold you still. 

As he held you in his big arms that night, you had a clear view of the city from the bedroom window- you couldn’t believe you were here.

After everything you had to go through- finally, maybe your parents wouldn’t be disgusted with you. 

You had everything you ever needed here, with him, he was gonna keep you safe from now on.

 Maybe your mom, dad and little sister were happy- their girl found herself a man who fought tooth and nail to get where he was now; his ambition never ending and his resilience like iron, he loved you, he was going to give you children and give you a life you only ever imagined in your wildest dreams. 

Was he a bad man? Mayhaps, for some. His profession required him to be- but he was also sweet and kind and good. People weren’t black and white. 

Your eyes were slowly closing with the soft snores of your soon to be husband lulling you to sleep.

Gotham winked at you from down below- reminding you it took you right where she wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: AHHHHH its been so much fun writing this- thank u for reading and I hope it was good. Thank you to @fat-bottom-demons because I don't think I would've been this quick in writing this big ass chapter without her nice words.

The Finale made me feel like I got punched in the throat lol. I hated Oz, like I didn't even look at the scene in order to reproduce it here in this chapter- something I usually do and poor Sofia, hope she wrecks his shit in the movie.

I wanted to keep Oz's nature of a manipulative and horrible man in this story as well- it's just that he CAN love and he can make himself vurnelable enough to love someone like he loves the reader- which he is also kinda obsessed with.

Maybe I will revisit this story- once we see what he's up to in the movie ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

[skateordiebitch]

BALCONY BLUES || D.F. x reader

summary: you and dominic are neighbors. you like to read books on your balcony, he likes to smoke cigarettes. you like quiet nights in, he likes to throw parties. but, as they say... opposites attract.

there's a little more than just neighborly affection brewing.

word count: 4.6k (damn)

me when i sit on my balcony and daydream....... that's how this story was born. and honestly i love it it's so cute. oh, to have a dominic fike stare at me from his balcony. anyways, enjoy! i only have like two more requests to do, so pls feel free to send moreeee <3

When you moved to California, you were looking forward to the quiet. Your apartment was modest, tucked into a complex that overlooked the ocean, with a small balcony you’d already claimed as your reading spot. 

You’d imagined peaceful weekends spent with a book and the distant crash of waves. 

It was exactly what you’d hoped for—except for one small complication: your neighbor, Dominic.

He was the opposite of what you were aiming for with your calm, coastal move. He had this habit of throwing loud parties every weekend, the music thumping through the walls and spilling out onto his balcony, the place he seemed to live when he was home. 

You noticed him on your first day, leaned back against the railing, a cigarette in hand, looking every bit like he owned the place.

And while you were trying your best to ignore him, you couldn’t quite deny the strange spark of interest you felt every time he looked your way. 

The two of you didn’t speak at first, not beyond the nods and the polite “hey” when you’d cross paths. Still, you felt his presence, especially in the evenings when you’d be on your balcony, tucked into a chair with your latest book, and he’d be out there too, leaning over the railing and occasionally glancing over.

He didn’t try to hide it either. 

Dominic looked at you openly, sometimes with the faintest hint of a smirk, like he was waiting for you to call him out. But you never did. 

You just kept reading, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

One night, when his usual party music pulsed into your living room, you sighed and headed out to your balcony, hoping for a quiet escape. 

But of course, there he was, leaning against the railing, cigarette dangling from his fingers, his eyes catching yours the moment you stepped outside.

"Well, hello, new neighbor," he said, flashing a grin. "What brings you to our quiet little paradise?"

You looked around, taking in the party remnants still strewn across his balcony—a few empty bottles, a speaker, a crumpled shirt tossed over a chair. The place screamed not quiet. You quirked a brow, a little smirk forming. 

"Quiet, huh?"

He laughed, unbothered by the observation. "What, you don’t like a little excitement?"

"Excitement’s fine. But I’m more of a ‘book and movie’ person than a ‘dancing til' midnight’ one," you replied, holding up the novel you’d brought out with you.

He leaned on the railing, flicking ash from his cigarette, clearly intrigued. "Let me guess, you’re one of those mysterious types, huh? All books, all quiet moments." He nodded toward your book, lips twisting into a teasing smile. "How romantic."

You rolled your eyes. "And you’re what? The loud, overconfident neighbor I have to put up with?"

He held his hands up, feigning innocence. "Hey, don’t judge me yet. I’ve been known to read, too, you know. Once or twice."

“Oh really?” you shot back, holding back a laugh. “What’s the last book you read?”

He laughed again, a little sheepish. “Alright, maybe it’s been a while. But if you’re up for sharing, maybe I could get into reading again.”

You scoffed. “I’d bet you’d fall asleep halfway through.”

“That a challenge?” His eyebrows lifted playfully. “Because I don’t back down from those. Trust me, new neighbor.”

—

From that night on, you fell into a routine. 

Most evenings, you’d come out with a book, and like clockwork, Dominic would make his way onto his balcony too. Sometimes he’d chat with you, other times he’d just sit there, stealing glances when he thought you weren’t looking. 

And little by little, you found yourself looking forward to those evenings—the way his voice drifted over, soft in the night air, and the way his laughter made your pulse quicken just a bit.

His weekend parties became something you learned to live with, even if they did get under your skin sometimes. 

But every now and then, in the middle of a particularly loud song or a burst of laughter from his friends, you’d catch him looking at you across the balcony, like he was daring you to join in.

—

Then one afternoon, you were lost in a book on your balcony when you heard a knock at your door. Surprised, you opened it to find Dominic standing there, hands in his pockets, an easy smile on his face.

“I noticed you’re not at your usual spot,” he said, nodding toward his own balcony. “Figured you might be taking a break from the whole… ‘reading alone’ thing.”

“Maybe,” you replied, crossing your arms. “And you decided to do what? Invite me to a party?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Actually, no. I was thinking of taking a walk down by the beach. Thought you might want to come along.”

You hesitated. He could be loud and a little obnoxious, and part of you still wanted that peaceful, book-filled weekend. But there was another part of you—a part that was curious, intrigued by the casual confidence with which he invited you out.

“Alright,” you said, trying not to smile too widely. “A walk. But if you bring out the speakers, I’m going back inside.”

He grinned, a spark of surprise in his eyes as he stepped back to let you grab your jacket. The walk to the beach was quiet, the two of you falling into a rhythm as the sun dipped lower in the sky. 

The silence was nice, comfortable in a way that you hadn’t expected, and by the time you reached the water, you found yourself relaxing around him.

“This is your spot, isn’t it?” he said, nodding toward the waves.

You glanced at him, surprised. “What makes you think that?”

“I’ve seen you down here a few times,” he admitted, his gaze steady, his tone quieter than usual. “You look… at home here.”

“Guess I do,” you said, shrugging. “I moved here for the quiet. Thought California would be, I don’t know… peaceful.”

He laughed. “… And then you got me as a neighbor. Must feel like a curse sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you teased, though your smile softened as he looked at you. “But… maybe not all the time.”

The moment stretched out, your heart fluttering as his gaze held yours. 

He was different in this quiet, sunset-lit setting, his usual confidence tempered by something softer, more thoughtful. And for the first time, you felt like you were seeing him—really seeing him—beyond the parties and the noise.

From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted. 

He’d come out onto his balcony when you were reading, asking about your latest book or bringing you coffee on lazy Sunday mornings. Sometimes you’d go for another walk along the shore, talking about everything and nothing as the sun set around you.

The weeks slipped by, and soon enough, you were finding reasons to spend more and more time with him. 

He’d come over for impromptu dinners, always bringing some wild story or teasing comment. Sometimes, you’d even venture onto his balcony, sitting with him in the aftermath of his parties, listening to him ramble about his friends or music or whatever he was passionate about that night.

—

Dominic had a way of showing up unannounced, and you never minded. 

His knock on the door was always followed by that grin of his—half apologetic, half mischievous—like he’d just had an idea to make the night more interesting. 

And every time, you’d find yourself saying yes to whatever spontaneous plan he had, even if it was just an impromptu dinner.

He was leaning against your doorframe when you opened it one evening, a takeout bag in hand, his eyes alight with excitement.

“Hey, I brought Chinese. And I have a crazy story about Reed at the bar last night, and I swear he’s convinced he’s been haunted by a ghost for three days. It’s a mess."

You laughed, stepping aside to let him in. "You’re really the only person I know who could make a simple dinner into an event."

"That’s because I’m here for the drama," he said with a wink, strolling into your apartment as if it was his second home, which, at this point, it practically was.

Dinner was a laid-back affair, the two of you perched on the couch, tossing back takeout containers and halfheartedly watching a movie you weren’t really paying attention to. 

Most of the time, it was like that with Dominic—more about the company than the activity. 

You barely noticed when the food ran out or the movie ended. You were too caught up in his stories, his hands gesturing wildly as he described whatever outrageous thing had happened to him that day. 

At one point, you had to pause him mid-story. "Wait," you interrupted, smirking. "You’re telling me Reed thinks a ghost followed him home from a Halloween party last year?"

He nodded, eyes wide with mock seriousness. "He was practically in tears. I swear, he won’t leave his apartment alone now. I had to convince him the ghost probably has better things to do than haunt a guy who wears socks with sandals."

You burst into laughter, and Dominic joined in, his carefree chuckle filling the room like it always did. 

The next few minutes passed in comfortable silence, with only the sound of music softly playing from the speakers. 

You leaned back on the couch, your feet tucked underneath you, and found yourself staring at Dominic. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d noticed how effortlessly attractive he was, but tonight, it hit you in a different way. His scruffy hair was falling into his eyes, and his lips—those damn lips—had a playful smirk that made you wonder how you hadn’t kissed him yet. 

But you couldn't quite figure out why you hadn’t. It was complicated, like everything with Dominic always seemed to be.

You cleared your throat, brushing away the thought. 

"You know," you said, pulling your legs up onto the couch, "I didn’t expect you to be one for spontaneous dinners. I thought you were more of the ‘grab a burger on the way home’ kind of guy."

Dominic grinned, stretching his arm along the back of the couch casually. "I am," he said, "but sometimes it's nice to get out of my own head. And when I can’t convince my friends to have dinner with me, I come to you." His gaze softened for a moment, and his voice dropped slightly. "You’re the only person who doesn’t look at me like I’m the chaos walking through the door."

Your heart did a little flip at his words. "I like the chaos," you replied, your voice quieter than before.

Dominic tilted his head, studying you with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper, something he didn’t usually let slip in front of others. 

But before either of you could say anything more, he pushed up from the couch, grabbing his jacket and the empty food containers. 

"I think I’m gonna head to my balcony," he said casually, giving you a sideways glance. "Wanna join? It's not exactly a party, but... it's the best view in the building."

You nodded, feeling an involuntary smile tug at your lips. "Yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a second."

The balcony was quieter than usual tonight—no party chaos, no loud music or chattering voices. Just the sound of distant cars and the occasional crash of waves from the beach below. 

Dominic leaned against the railing, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he stared out at the city lights. You stood beside him, your arms crossed over your chest, just watching him, feeling that familiar tension settle between you.

"You know," he said suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence, "I love this view. But I think I might like it more when you're out here with me." 

His words were soft, genuine, and for a moment, he wasn’t Dominic, the wild party host. He was just a guy, caught in the same quiet moment you were.

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if he was joking or serious, but the look in his eyes was so sincere it made your chest tighten. "You’re full of surprises, you know that?"

He laughed, exhaling a puff of smoke and brushing it aside. "I try to be. Life’s better when you’re unpredictable."

"Yeah, but," you added with a teasing smile, "you’re the only one who doesn’t have a filter. Makes things interesting."

He turned to face you, his posture relaxed but his expression more serious now, as if he was carefully choosing his words. "It’s easy with you. You don’t try to make sense of everything I do. You just let me be... me."

You felt your heart race a little faster, his words hitting somewhere deeper than you expected. You nodded, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his gaze. "I think that's what I like most about you."

The silence stretched between you, but this time it didn’t feel awkward. It felt... right.

Dominic took one last drag from his cigarette and dropped it into the ashtray. Then he took a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. "I don’t say it much, but I’m glad you’re here," he said softly.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. "Me too."

The night stretched on in a haze of quiet conversation and stolen glances. 

And as you sat together on his balcony, you knew this wasn’t just another casual hangout—it was something more. Something you weren’t quite ready to label, but couldn’t deny was happening between the two of you. 

Slowly, but surely.

—

And then on one Friday, you’d just settled into a new novel when Dominic leaned over, his elbows resting on the railing. "So, big plans for the weekend?" he asked, flashing that familiar smile.

You shrugged. "Same as always. Just me, my book, and TV.”

He feigned shock. "No wild plans? No... secret parties in there?" He nodded toward your apartment, his voice teasing.

"Some of us enjoy a peaceful life," you shot back. "Not everyone throws ragers every Friday night."

"Ouch. You wound me," he said, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "But, hey, just for the record, tonight’s party’s invitation-only. But I could make an exception."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Sorry to disappoint. I don’t think I’d fit in with your crowd."

"Oh, I don’t know," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "You might surprise yourself."

“I haven’t been to a party in ages, Dom,” You say, watching him spark with even more excitement.

“Perfect! Then you’re coming to mine.”

—

You had no intention of actually attending Dominic's party. 

But somehow, your friends that were invited had convinced you to tag along, and now you were here, tucked against a wall in his dimly lit apartment.

Watching the lively crowd fill every corner of his place, music pulsed through the walls, echoing off the high ceilings, and the familiar scent of Dominic’s cologne mingled with the laughter and voices all around.

You were handed three shots of tequila, back to back, and now permanently glued to the corner, away from the chaos. 

You hadn’t even expected Dominic to notice you were here, but just as you were starting to wonder where he was, you felt a hand gently press against the small of your back. 

You turned, and there he was—his grin wide, his eyes lighting up the moment they met yours.

"Well, look who finally made it to one of my parties," he said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. His voice was low, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. "And here I thought you were all talk about being ‘too quiet’ for nights like this."

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "I’m just here to make sure your guests don’t destroy the building!”

"Oh, so you’re keeping an eye on me, huh?" His hand lingered on your back, his fingers tracing small circles there. His touch was warm, grounding in a way that felt electric and impossible to ignore. "You’re cute when you’re pretending not to have fun."

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Who says I’m pretending?"

He hands you another shot as he pours himself another one; And from the looks of it, he’s had way more than you. 

“Cheers! To… whatever we got going on here,” He says, as you raise the shot glass.

“To whatever we got going on,” The two of you laugh as you feel that god-awful stinging sensation travel down your throat.

“This is the most I’ve drank in a long time!” You giggle, “I forgot how fun this is!”

“Mhm, so maybe you should come to these more often, then.”

“Maybe…” You say as you watch him stare into your eyes and then looking at you, up and down, “Stop staring at me!” You laugh.

He chuckled, slipping his other hand around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. “It’s so hard to not stare you when you look this good.”

Your face flushed under his gaze, the teasing glint in his eye sending a shiver through you. 

“I thought you wouldn’t even notice my existence at these things,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant even as your pulse quickened.

“Oh, trust me. I always notice you,” he murmured, his voice lower now, meant just for you. His eyes were intense, his gaze tracing your face, lingering on your lips before he met your eyes again. “And tonight? You’re making it really hard not to.”

You swallowed, suddenly aware of the minimal space between you and Dominic. 

It was thrilling, that tension lingering in the air, as if the two of you were the only people in the room. And then he leaned closer, his voice a soft murmur near your ear.

"Can I get you another drink? Or would that just give me another excuse to stay by your side?"

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him. "Maybe that’s what I was hoping for."

A look of surprise flickered across his face, and then his lips pulled into a smirk, clearly delighted by your response. 

He didn’t move away as his hand slid down to rest at your waist, his thumb brushing against your hip. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ll show you a good time.”

Your eyes met his, daring him. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Something shifted in his expression then, a flicker of heat, of something more. 

His hand on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel his warmth seeping into you. 

The room, the crowd, everything else seemed to fade into the background as he looked down at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile that was equal parts flirtatious and dangerous.

He dipped his head, brushing his lips close to your ear. “You know, I was starting to think you’d never come to one of these,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “But now that you’re here… I don’t think I’ll let you out of my sight.”

You let out a breathy laugh, trying to keep your cool despite the way he was looking at you. “I thought you had a hundred guests to entertain.”

“Oh, I do.” He flashed you a grin, leaning in closer. “But none of them are you.”

His hands slipped around your waist, guiding you into the flow of the party. 

He kept you close, weaving through the crowd with a protective edge, and you couldn’t help but notice the way other people glanced over, curiosity and maybe even a little envy in their eyes. 

Dominic, however, didn’t seem to care about anyone else—he only had eyes for you.

He led you out to the balcony, where the cool night air hit your skin and gave you both a moment to breathe. He leaned against the railing, his gaze never leaving you as you looked out at the city lights. 

You turned to face him, realizing how close you still were. He didn’t back up, didn’t pull away. 

His hand brushed your cheek, and there was something softer in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. 

"You truly are full of surprises, you know that?" he murmured, his thumb tracing lightly over your cheekbone.

"I could say— have said— the same about you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, caught between a smile and something more. The playful banter was gone now, replaced by a feeling that felt so much heavier, more real.

He tilted his head, his gaze dropping to your lips, and then, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and soft, yet brimming with restrained intensity. 

His hand slipped around to the back of your neck, holding you close, and you melted into him, your fingers curling into his shirt as he deepened the kiss, each moment igniting something new between you.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath, his hand still tangled in your hair. 

"I knew this would be bad for me,” he murmured, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You laughed softly, brushing your fingers over his chest. "Then why did you invite me?"

"Because I like you too much to watch you from a distance,” he whispered, his voice warm with laughter as he brought you close again, kissing you with a hunger that felt like the beginning of something neither of you could deny anymore.

The kiss lingered between you, each soft press of his lips against yours a reminder of how close you had become, how suddenly everything seemed to shift. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, the noise of the party still thumping faintly in the distance, but here, in this quiet moment on the balcony, it was as though time had stopped. 

Dominic pulled back slightly, his breath warm on your lips as he whispered, "I didn’t expect this to happen tonight… but I’m not complaining."

You blinked up at him, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "Neither am I," you murmured, your voice almost a breathless laugh.

He ran his thumb gently over your lower lip, his eyes studying you with that mix of curiosity and desire that made your pulse race again. "You know, I think I’ve been waiting for this longer than I realized."

You tilted your head, searching his gaze for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. Just raw, unfiltered honesty. "For me?" you asked, not fully believing it.

His smile was small but undeniably sincere. "Yeah. You’ve always had a way of keeping me on my toes," he admitted. His hand slid down to yours, intertwining your fingers with his. "I’ve wanted to see what would happen if we were ever this close."

And there it was—he hadn’t been hiding anything, hadn’t been pretending. There was no act, no facade; it was just the two of you, standing on a balcony, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air.

"I didn’t think you’d want to be this close," you replied quietly, your thumb tracing the lines of his hand. 

"Why’s that?" His brow furrowed slightly, and there was a hint of playful challenge in his tone.

You shrugged, feeling the vulnerability of the moment. "You’re Dominic. You’re cool and you throw these annoying parties. You don’t seem like the type to chase something… real."

He gave a soft laugh, pulling you just a little closer, his body brushing against yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "And what does that mean? You think I’m just some guy who doesn’t know what he wants?"

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the teasing disappeared, replaced by something more earnest. "No. I just think you’re used to people coming onto you, not the other way around."

Dominic’s gaze softened, and he let out a quiet sigh. "Maybe I’m not as good at playing it cool as I want everyone to think."

You raised an eyebrow at that. "So what does that make me? Your secret weakness?"

He grinned, the playful edge returning to his voice. "Maybe. But if I’m being honest, I think it’s more than that."

The way he said it, with so much confidence, made your chest tighten. 

There was something about him tonight, something different from the confident, aloof Dominic everyone else saw. In this moment, he was just a guy, a guy who wanted something from you, something more than just the usual game he played.

"Do you want to go back inside?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You didn’t know why, but the thought of being back in the crowded apartment suddenly felt less appealing, the contrast between the chaotic party and the quiet intimacy of the moment stark.

Dominic’s lips quirked into a half-smile, the heat in his gaze never leaving you. "I think I’d rather stay out here… unless you want to change your mind."

"No," you said quickly, shaking your head. "I’m more than fine out here."

He leaned in again, pressing his forehead against yours, and for a moment, the only sound was the quiet rustle of the night air and the distant murmur of the party. 

"Good," he said softly. "Because I’m not done with you yet."

You felt your heart skip a beat, not from fear, but from something that was beginning to feel like anticipation, something that held more weight than just the chemistry between you. 

Maybe it wasn’t just the kiss or the way his touch made you feel, but the realization that something was beginning to take root here, between you and him.

Dominic's hand still rested against your waist, his thumb lightly grazing your skin as he studied you. "You know, I’m not usually this... honest. But with you, I can’t help it." 

You looked up at him, your gaze softening. "Maybe I’m starting to feel the same way."

He smiled, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips. "I’m glad. Because I think we’ve both been pretending long enough."

You laughed lightly, unable to hide the way your heart was racing. "Pretending, huh? Well, now that we’ve admitted it, what do we do next?"

Dominic’s eyes darkened slightly, a shift in his demeanor as he tilted his head, his gaze lingering on your lips again. "Next? We stop pretending."

And with that, he kissed you again, deeper this time, with none of the hesitations or uncertainties that had been there before.

The world outside the balcony faded completely, and all you could feel was the heat of his kiss, the press of his body against yours, and the undeniable pull between you two.

It was clear now—there was no turning back. 

The night, the party, the teasing, the banter… it was all just a prelude to this. To the moment when everything shifted and you both let go of the distance you’d been keeping between you.

Dominic pulled away just enough to look at you, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. "You’re trouble," he murmured.

"Right back at you," you replied, your voice breathless, your heart still racing.

He laughed softly, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t just a playful sound—it was full of something real, something meaningful.

The rest of the world could wait.

[heartfe1t]

    ❝    definitely. and i'm not planning on missing anything with you. not the important things. i'll always do the best i can to be with you for everything. you mean the world to me, mila. you really do.    ❞    and that's never going to change. he knows what his priorities are.    ❝    yeah? well- you definitely know me too well for a real surprise. even if i kept this a bit of a surprise to start. i thought taking you out on the water would be a fitting date night for us.    ❞    he grins, lips turning up with satisfaction as he looks at her, listens to what she has to say.    ❝    not to sound too cocky, but- i know. i'm not worried about what you're going to say. it feels good. you and me- it's right... and i came into tonight confident you feel the same way that i do.    ❞    his hand reaches for hers, and he gives it a gentle squeeze.    ❝    i do have a bit of a plan, but- i don't mind that it's not a surprise anymore. i mean- it's not like we haven't talked about marriage.    ❞    he wouldn't be asking her tonight if he didn't feel that she was ready to be asked. their food is brought out and he smiles, thanks the waiter before turning his attention fully back to his girlfriend. not girlfriend for much longer.

❝     you're     so     worth     it.     i'm     just     so     thankful     to     be     with     you     and     get     to     love     you     and     be     loved     by     you.     i     know     there's     an     end     to     our     crazy     schedules     being     so     mismatched     in     the     future     and     i'm     more     than     happy     and     so     willing     to     do     the     long     distance     and     the     long     flights     to     make     it     work.     ❞     she     knew     she     was     going     to     spend     the     rest     of     her     life     with     quinn.     she'd     known     that     for     a     while     now.     they     were     lucky     to     both     be     in     a     position     where     they     could     afford     to     travel     to     see     each     other     when     they     weren't     in     the     same     place     and     she'd     keep     doing     what     she     could     to     make     the     distance     not     feel     quite     so     long.     ❝     it     was     easy.     i     knew     i     could     trust     you.     figuring     out     the     timing     was     a     little     difficult     but     when     you     know,     you     know.     ❞     

❝     it     was     an     interesting     milestone,     but     i     like     that     we     did     it.     we've     got     to     take     what     we     can     when     we     have     so     much     time     away     from     each     other;     i'd     rather     celebrate     an     unusual     anniversary     with     you     than     miss     one     that's     more     widely     celebrated.     ❞     waiting     to     celebrate     at     six     months     or     a     year     for     convention     sake     had     never     sat     right     with     mila.     she     wanted     to     celebrate     things     when     she     had     an     overwhelming     rush     of     love     and     if     that     meant     an     impulsive     celebratory     dinner     at     three     months,     then     so     be     it.     she     listens     as     he     starts     to     talk     again,     telling     her     what     tonight's     date     is     going     to     entail,     and     she     can't     help     but     let     the     beaming     smile     overtake     her     features.     ❝     every     night     with     you     feels     special,     but     it     does     feel     like     you've     got     something     up     your     sleeve     tonight.     ❞     she     teases,     teeth     sinking     into     her     lower     lip     for     a     moment     as     she     smiles     at     him.     ❝     i     want     to     spend     the     rest     of     my     life     with     you,     too,     quinn.     ❞     they've     talked     about     their     future     together     a     lot,     but     it     feels     good     to     verbalize     it     when     the     topic     arises.     she     knows     that     she's     found     her     forever     with     him.     ❝     oh...     oh.     if     you're     going     to     ask     the     question     i     think     you     will,     you     don't     have     to     worry     about     what     my     answer     will     be.     it'll     be     the     easiest     yes     of     my     life.     but     if     you     have     a     plan     for     the     evening...     i     can     sit     back     and     be     patient.     i     do     know     you     too     well,     though,     huh?     ❞     she     asks,     teasing     smile     as     she     scrunches     up     her     nose     in     pure     bliss.

[fruchtfleisch-art]

The first chapter of But Satisfaction Brought it Back is up!

Kosaku reflects on his life as a newly married man, attends an OBGYN appointment, and totally chokes where it counts. You can tell it's a flashback because everyone has different hair [nodding sagely].

[wumbletumblebumble]

What I love about grace is that this is a man whose science nerd impulses outweigh his sense of self preservation and duty to Earth. You think if the rest of the crew had survived they'd be on board with putting everything aside to dedicate precious time to learning to communicate with the alien spider? Would they even be willing to follow through past first contact? The best part is that this could easily be treated as a fatal flaw but instead it is the key to his success.

[specialagentartemis]

deeply tired reminder that the proverb “blood is thicker than water” has been used in the English language since the 1600s, and its ultimate origins may be from the 1100s; the longer version that tumblr likes, “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” is first attested in a book from the 1990s by a “Messianic Rabbi” with no sources. It’s literally prefaced by “Warning: The truths contained in the following teaching are not for the faint of heart, or the lukewarm! You can be sure that haSatan (the adversary) will do all he can to keep you from understanding and applying the concepts and truths contained herein”. The whole covenant framing is being used here to justify a “Jews for Jesus” interpretation of Judaism. It’s not “original” in any sense. The idea of blood covenants is a very old one, but there's no evidence that that's what that proverb refers to at all, and certainly not in those specific words (and this guy never even claimed that the specific words were original, just the sense of them). And the Brothers Grimm even suggested the "water" being referred to in the phrase was the water of baptism.

You are not obligated to like the sentiment expressed by “blood is thicker than water.” You don’t have to agree with proverbs. You are perfectly allowed to like the sentiment of “ the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” better. But it is not in any way “authentic” or the “real” version, and it was not corrupted into the common version. Please.