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midatwrtr · 4 months ago

Text

Turn back time

LE SSERAFIM Sakura x Male Reader

6.6k words

Tags: Fluff & Smut

It was a chilly night of spring when you met Sakura. You were coming home from a late shift and she was sitting in front of your apartment. Your boss decided to abuse his position again by forcing you to work overtime, using some loophole in your contract as an excuse. You didn’t recognize her at first in the dark, she simply looked like a drunk teenager.

You could have ignored her, walked right past her, and everything would have been alright, but somehow, you didn’t.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked her, walking closer. She was wearing a pleaded shirt and jeans, while she used a black cap and black mask to cover her face. You made sure not to get too close, she was still a stranger, who knew what she had under her shirt.

“Mh? What?” she replied with a surprisingly clear voice.

“Oh, I was just checking if you were okay,” you said carefully. “I mean, you’re sitting here alone, in the middle of nowhere…”

“You’re right, it doesn’t look very good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “So? Did you drink or something?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t have anything,” she said, mortified. “I was just having…” she sighed. “A bad day. That’s all.”

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked, the words coming out almost instinctively. You weren't particularly interested, but you understood that she needed someone that listened to her. It was more about offering her a chance to vent than satisfying your own curiosity.

The girl stared at you for a second, dumbfounded.

“I don’t have anything to do tonight anyways,” you added in case she felt guilty.

She thought about it for a second. It was a bit personal but after all, it wasn’t a bad idea. She didn’t even know your name and you didn’t know hers. For all she knew, you were a stranger she could have met on the internet behind an actor’s photo. What were the chances that she’d meet you again?

“Well…” she started. You crouched down and sat next to her. You could see the moon peaking through the darkened clouds.

“You know, it’s been a rough day,” she said. “It seems like no matter what I do, people always have something to say.”

“Mh, I’m sorry to hear that. Sometimes it does feel like that.”

“Exactly,” she sighed deeply and then she straightened her back. “You know, it’s just so frustrating!” she growled, tensing her hands. “I’ve been doing this for years, and still, there’s always someone saying I’m not doing it right. It’s like they don’t even see how hard I work!”

“That sounds really tough,” you agreed. “People can be so quick to judge.”

“Exactly! They don't see the long hours I put in, the constant pressure to be perfect. They just hear one thing they don't like and suddenly they're experts, telling me how I should do things differently. It's infuriating!

"And the worst part is, sometimes it's not even constructive criticism. It's just mean like they're trying to tear me down. Why do they do that? Can't they see I'm just trying to do what I love? I don't understand why people feel the need to be so harsh!"

“It's tough when people don't see the effort and passion you put into it," you agreed. “But I bet there are still people that love what you do.”

“You’re right, it’s not all that bad. My friends are really supportive and always have been. They remind me why I started this in the first place and keep me grounded.”

“That’s great to hear. It makes a huge difference having people with you.”

“Yes. They're the ones who always believed in me, even when I doubted myself. It's like they see something in me that I sometimes forget” The girl sighed happily. “They're amazing. They are always close to me and help me when it gets too much.”

“It sounds like your friends do a good job of helping you focus on the right things. It's like having a personal cheering squad.”

The girls laughed. “That’s exactly what they are.”

Then she sighed deeply, her demeanor changing. "You know, as supportive as my friends are, I sometimes feel like I'm becoming a burden to them. They're always there for me, listening to my complaints and trying to cheer me up, but I worry I'm dragging them down."

"I doubt they see it that way. Friends are there for the good and the bad times."

"I know, but I can't help but feel guilty. like, how much can they take before they get tired of it?"

"It's natural to feel that way, but real friends don't see you as a burden. They care about you and want to support you, no matter what,” you said. “The important thing is that you’re still working hard. If they see your efforts, they will help you.”

"I hope so,” she said, her voice wavering. “They've never said anything to make me think otherwise, but sometimes I just feel so... needy, I guess. Like, I should be able to handle this on my own and not rely on them so much."

"It sounds like you're being too hard on yourself. Everyone needs support sometimes, and it doesn't make you a burden. It makes you human."

She nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right.”

"If they're there for you now, you've probably been there for them before. It's okay to lean on them. When something happens, you’ll return the favor,” you said. “For example, my friend helped me finish the project. So I bought him a really cool shirt, it was like this Pokemon-themed thing with Charmander and stuff, right? Because he liked Pokemon,” you paused. “But it was two sizes too small.”

The girl giggled. Her laughter bubbled up, bright and infectious.

“God, he looked ridiculous. But it’s alright. He was trying to lose weight anyways, it will motivate him.”

“Yeah, I am sure you did him a favor,” she said joyfully.

“That’s what I am saying!”

The girl recollected herself. "Thanks. I guess I just needed to hear that. It's hard to remember that sometimes, especially when I'm feeling overwhelmed."

You got up, patting your pants off to get rid of the dirt. “Do you want me to help you go back home? It’s kinda late now.”

The girl hesitated for a second. She didn’t know how to answer that question.

“Do you live far away? Do you want me to call a cab?”

“No, it’s not that…” her voice trailed off.

You listened to her silence for a second and understood. “You don’t want to go home, right? How about you stay here for the night? I have a guest room.”

“Well, I don’t want to disturb you…”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it, it will be just tonight.”

She was a bit hesitant, she didn’t want to impose herself but you were sincere and she accepted the offer. You walked to your apartment, modest and minimal. You didn’t need a lot to live comfortably and you were at the job most of the time anyway.

When she took off her cap and mask, you realized who she was. You chose not to say anything. You didn’t want to scare her away.

“Are you allergic to anything—?” you asked, you stopped just a moment before saying her name.

“Sakura,” she added. “No, I’m not allergic to anything.”

You quickly made her feel at home, showing her around and offering her a spot at the kitchen table while you prepared a simple meal.

As you cooked, you continued their conversation. She opened up about her life as a singer, and the passion she had for music. You already knew most of it but you wanted to hear it from her, it was much more interesting.

You listened attentively, sharing your own experience at work. It became a healing experience for you. You ate together, enjoying the meal and continuing to talk. You learned about her love for mangas, and how much she played videogames. You were a gamer as well, that’s where most of your money went and why your house was so bare.

“If I could turn back time…” Sakura said, in the middle of your conversation about her idol life. “I wonder if I’d choose to be an idol again. Maybe I should have become a soloist.”

“Grass is always greener on the other side” you replied. “I’m sure once you’re old, you’ll look back at it and think it was a great experience.”

“I hope so.”

When it got late, you offered her the guest room, fortunately, you kept it clean. She accepted and you said goodnight.

Sakura didn’t feel like a celebrity. You felt like you met a good friend and you wanted to keep it that way. In the morning, you prepared her breakfast and bid her goodbye. You didn’t expect her to come back and neither did she. It was supposed to be a one time thing, to get her mind off.

But a week later, she knocked at the door and you were happy to welcome her.

It started with small exchanges—it was a bit more embarrassing now that you were both conscious of each other. Sakura would sometimes bring her books and discuss them with you, or you would turn on the TV and watch animes together.

As the days turned into weeks, the conversations grew longer. You talked about her past, your past, your problems. It was a safe space for the both of you, where you could be honest with eachother. Sakura found herself looking forward to these moments with you, your presence becoming a familiar comfort in her life. It became a routine.

Her eyes sparkled everytime she spoke with you and you would always listen to her. You loved the way she spoke with such passion.

But one day, you had to leave.

It was your boss again. “I made some arrangements with this company, it’s a big opportunity, you have to leave tomorrow. I already scheduled the flight.” You couldn’t refuse and you didn’t have Sakura’s phone number either. You left in the early morning and didn’t hear from Sakura since.

A week later, you finally came back home. You close the door of your friend’s car and thank him. You take a deep breath, finally the air of your town, you missed it. Taking the stairs, you reach your floor and there she was, standing weakly in front of your door, Sakura.

“Oh my god, Sakura! What are you doing here!” you exclaim.

“You—! You’re back! You asshole why didn’t you say anything!” Sakura rushes to your arms and hugs you tightly. “God, I thought something happened to you! I thought the loansharks kidnapped you.”

“It was just a work trip,” you say. “And sorry I didn’t say anything, I didn’t have your number.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll give it to you right now,” she hurries you. You take out your phone and add her digits.

“Is that your stage outfit?” you ask her.

“Yeah, I rushed here. I didn’t really feel like changing, I wanted to see you,” she says. Her sentence shocks you. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was more to it. You thought about all the little things—how she always seemed to know you were having a rough day, how she always came to you first to vent about her troubles.

You smiled but were worried. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about Sakura in that way before. You did plenty of times, but there was always some reason not to pursue it.

“But you didn’t even know that I’d be here,” you comment.

“I felt it.”

“You have a sixth sense, don’t you?” you laugh as you open the door for her.

With a quickly made dinner, you have time to catch up with Sakura. She had a lot to talk about, not only about her members but also all the other idols she met during the shows. She had a lot to vent about, people aren’t as nice as they look.

Sakura offers to clean up the rest of the dinner, which isn’t a lot since you have already cleaned most of the dishes, and in the meantime, you go and take a shower. Cleaning up the remnants of your hastily prepared dinner, Sakura tosses the scraps into the trash bin before wiping the table. Once everything is tidy again, she heads towards the bathroom to take off her makeup.

However, while passing by the bedroom, she finds you lying sprawled across the bed, fast asleep. An odd mix of emotions courses through her veins—it is a combination of fondness and happiness. You look so cute carelessly snoozing with that sleepy face of yours. She wants to join you, to touch you. She wants to do what she sees in the shows, to hold your hand, hug you while you sleep, and kiss you.

Sakura isn’t sure if her feelings are right, especially after everything that has happened to her. She knows to trust you, but to love you? Is she allowed such a luxury? Her mind tells her to steer clear, to not get mixed up in such a troublesome relationship, but she is stubborn.

Her back shivers. Sakura can’t tear her gaze away from your sleeping face. Your soft breaths are like music to her ears, soothing and comforting.

Then you wake up. You look at Sakura through your tired eyes and smile. “Oh, sorry. I fell asleep, didn’t I?” you say, laughing, and Sakura exchanges a smile. “Say, aren’t you tired, Kkura?”

“Mh,” she hums. “A little bit. But you must be—” she trails off, unable to finish her sentence.

“Then join me,” you say, interrupting her. She opens her eyes a little wider as she values your offer. She could find countless reasons not to, but instead, she settles for a place beside you. She awkwardly lies down on the bed, slightly curling her legs and resting her arms close to herself. Her eyes never leave yours, watching your welcoming smile.

“I really missed you, Sakura,” you say. You laugh from the embarrassment, clenching your eyes. “I got so used to your presence that I keep going back to my bags thinking I left something at home.” You pause to take a breath. “I guess it was you.”

Sakura is surprised. She listens to you silently, feeling that warm sensation inside her chest slowly expanding to the rest of her body. “I missed you too,” she confesses.

“The bulgogi at the cafeteria just doesn’t taste the same, you know?” You laugh. Feeling the mattress dip beside her, Sakura becomes aware of your presence. The wave of heat coursing through her veins makes her heart race wildly. Carefully unfolding her legs, she slides closer to you, nestling herself against your warmth, finally accepting your invite. Sakura catches her breath as your arm slips around her waist, pulling her even closer.

“This feels nice,” she says, and you giggle. It is a gentle embrace, completely different from the coldness that she had to endure for the week you were away. She simply lies there, letting the familiar scent of you envelop her, calming her frayed nerves.

“Don’t you want to change into some more comfortable clothes?” you ask Sakura.

“Mh? You don’t want to see me in it?” Sakura replies in a light tone. “You don’t like it?” she teases you.

You keep brushing her soft blonde hair. “No, it’s not that. I think you could be more comfortable in something else… but I don’t mind it at all. Besides,” you swallow your saliva, “it looks really good on you.”

“Oh? How good?” she coos, moving her hair away from the red top. You remember your reaction from earlier: how you choke at the sight of her tight top hugging her pearly white chest, how her toned midriff peeks from her gray pleated skirt, and how all the blood leaves your head. But you can’t say it, of course, and settle for a “Very good.”

“Come on, be more specific!” Sakura whines in annoyance.

“Ten out of ten!”

“You always say that,” she says.

“Because it’s true,” you retort.

“You know what I mean…” she says with a softer tone, looking at you with her typical puppy eyes. There you go. She plays with your feelings again. What are you supposed to feel? Your mind is a mess. She is so adorable, yet so hot.

You sigh. “Well…” you start. “I think you’re terribly hot. You make my head spin every time I see you. And today, you are unbelievable.”

Sakura clings to you tighter, taking refuge in your chest. Her breath comes in short, needy gasps; who knew words could be so piercing? She knows she wants you to say it, but she doesn’t know how it’d feel like.

Shifting ever so slightly, she presses her lower body against yours, finding comfort in her arousal.

“When you say it like that…” Sakura whispers. “Is it too much?”

“Too much for me to handle, that’s for sure.”

Sakura rubs herself against you, her hips moving slowly, riding your thigh. She starts moaning, low groans choked in her throat. She grows more desperate. Your words were turning her on. She wants you to see more of her, she wants your eyes planted on her body, she wants more. Sakura knew this was going to be a mistake, that she should stop before crossing the line, but she couldn’t resist anymore.

“Mh,... is that all?” She asks you once more.

“I have nothing nice to say, believe me,” you admit and Sakura understood perfectly. You finally notice her movements on her leg and you are just as aroused as her. At the same time, you are worried if her intentions were truly honest and if she wasn’t being carried away by the heat of the moment. You knew how impulsive Sakura was.

Swallowing hard, Sakura meets your gaze, refusing to look away. She could see the concern etched on your face, the worry mirrored in her eyes. For a brief moment, she contemplates pushing you away… and then she decides against it. Her hips don’t stop rubbing against you. She keeps holding you. Sakura wanted to know what you felt and what she felt.

Closing the remaining distance between you two, she captures your lips in a firm resolute kiss.

Caught in the heat of her excitement, you couldn’t do anything else but kiss her back. Moaning against your lips, Sakura loses herself in the feeling of your lips. Rolling on top of you, her arms around your neck, she keps kissing you deeper and deeper. Her skin was warm and smooth beneath your fingers, a stark contrast to the rough texture of your own.

Pulling away slightly, she looks into your eyes. She could see her own pure raw desire reflected back in your eyes. Without hesitation, she guides your hand between her thighs. “Are you sure, Sakura?” you ask one last time.

“I am.” You could feel the moistness around her shorts. She invites you into her panties, into herself. Your fingers trace lazy circles around her swollen clit. She grips your shoulders tightly as the pleasure scatters through her legs.

Arching her back, Sakura gasps as your fingers effortlessly slipped inside her wet folds. Her muscles tensed and relaxed, spasms of pleasure, drawing you deeper.

Sakura lets out a high-pitched whine. “Mh!” You hit a sensitive spot inside of her. Waves of pure bliss ripple throughout her body. Her grip on your shoulders tightens painfully as you continue to finger her pussy.

Sakura’s mind spirals out of control leaving her breathless moans.

“Can I see it?” you ask softly. Painting heavily, Sakura glances down for a moment at her spread legs, catching the sight of your fingers buried inside of her. She shudders at the sight of the messiness of her juices. They coated your hand, dripping down to your wrist and forearm.

She forces herself to meet your eyes to nod quietly. You quickly take of her shorts and underwear and take a good look of her wet lips. Gasping at the cool air, Sakura stared at you with worry as she was revealing her most intimate parts to you. She finds herself even more aroused than before.

With both hands at either side of her vagina, you part her slightly. You look at the droplets of wetness leaving her hole, sliding down her pink flesh, the warm scent invading your nostrils. You take a moment to observe how her muscles twitched but you couldn’t resist any longer. You open your mouth and dip your tongue inside of her.

“I love how you taste, Sakura,” you muffle. “You’re just as good as I imagined.”

Your words make her moan harder. Every finger of lower body tighten at the new sensation. You lick her slowly, spreading your tongue out on her pussy, licking from the bottom to the top, pausing on her clit. You send waves of pleasure to her head, making it difficult for her to remain still. Her legs clamp around your head. Her soft thighs just make it more enjoyable.

You eat her with voracity, making your head up and down. Sakura helps you by stretching her lips further apart with her hands, giving you full access to every inch of her folds. Her walls clench around your tongue, contracting involuntarily.

You stop for a moment to swallow the liquids piled on your tongue. Sakura can’t wait a single second. “Please continue,” she pleads.

“You want it that bad?” you say with satisfaction.

“Yes,” she admits. “Please, eat me out.” “I will,” you conclude and go back to her pussy. This time, you wrap your lips on her clit and start sucking it softly. You don’t give her time to adjust as your fingers enter her at the same time, fingering her helpless hole.

Sakura goes crazy. She begs for release. “Ah! Fuck! Don’t stop!” Her fingers dig into your shoulders, leaving bruises all around your back. Lewd wet noises sloppily resonate through your mouth. Moaning your name nonstop, she is pushed more and more to the edge. The orgasm approaches rapidly. With a feral growl, she explodes, wracked by wave after wave of ecstatic pleasure.

Arching her back, she clutches your head, pulling you deeper inside her. Thick liquid drips from her swollen pussy, thick cum flow right into your mouth. Breathless and spent, she collapses back onto the pillows, utterly exhausted but satisfied.

You continue by softly eating up her remaining cum. Watching in disbelief as you eagerly lap up the sticky remnants of their passion, Sakura's breath hitches in her throat.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” you said and laughed.

“I didn’t know I could do that either,” she repeated, giggling and covering her blushed face.

Panting heavily, Sakura lays still sprawled across the bed, her body still pulsing with residual with the residual kickback of the orgasm. When you nuzzle your face against her exposed stomach, she moans softly, arching her back invitingly. Her leg itch, the shivers discend to her core. "Mmm…" she murmurs, begging you to continue.

Her fingers brush through your hair. You leave small pecks and smooches on her tone midriff, trailing your lips along the grooves of her abs. Your hands hold her hips, lifting her arched body closer to your face. Her heart swells with tenderness, she’s grateful, you truly care for her and want to make her happy.

Your head further ascends along her body, stopping at the hem of her top. You look up to her, to her flushed cheeks and clouded eyes, panting heavily. “Can I see them?” you ask her.

She nods, “Yes…” Sakura then sits up to take of her top. It’s a bit complicated, she raises her arms and slowly pulls it off. When she takes of her last layer, you hold your breath. The tube bra finally slips off and her breasts fall down. They are beautiful.

Though not as big as they looked under the clothes, the shape was a lot more inviting. They were slightly saggy, drooping to either sides, with rounded nipples and beautiful pink nipples. There was a mole right on her left breast that you had never noticed.

You look at her eyes just to be sure and gently grope her breasts. She lets out a small moan, bringing her hands back to open her chest to you. Blushing deeply, Sakura looks down your eager expression, her heart racing. She’s surprised at how excited you were and it made her even more aroused.

“Do you really like them that much even if they’re small?” she asked.

“They are perfect, Sakura,” you said. “And they could’ve been 100 different shapes but I’d still love them, because they are yours.”

Sakura smiled and locked her arms around your back. She's grown accustomed to your touch now and she couldn’t be happier. Her nipples harden beneath your fingers and she struggles to keep her composure. "It’s okay, keep going..." she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rapid beat of her heart.

Leaning in closer, she captures your lips in a heated kiss but you don’t stop fondling her soft breasts. She falls back to the bed and her boobs fall to the sides. Your hands collect them back up and you continue to play with her mounds.

Her body trembles as you continue to knead and tease her sensitive breast, alternating between gentle strokes and firmer pinches. Sakura bites down on her lip, but she doesn’t hide her moans, you love them.

She had never felt so exposed yet so safe before. She wanted your hands to explore every inch of your body, she wanted you to know every part of her. And now she wanted to see you as well.

“Are you going to take off your clothes?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah,” you answered, only now realizing she was the only one naked. You made it quick, not wanting to make her wait too long. You were a bit embarrassed to show her your body, especially since it wasn’t nearly as toned as hers. However, if Sakura didn’t care than neither should you.

You were also worried about your size. Your hands were both covering your crotch, the head of your penis peeking between your fingers.

Sakura flashed a seductive smile and got closer to you. “Are you really going to hide that pretty cock of yours?” she asks you. Her hand grab your fingers and she peels off your hands. She licks her lips and palms your balls, holding your cock out right on her right hand. She silently looks at it for a second, looking at how hard it was, standing so tall just for her. That’s what she loved. You were hard for her.

And she was wet for you.

“Sit down,” she told you and you obliged, keeping your legs open. With her hand still under your balls, she raised your cock higher, giving her full access to the whole length. And then she was blowing you. With a hand at the base, she wraps your head with her wet mouth, beginning to move her head in slow, circular motions. Her eyes stare right back at you, with her sunken lips, looking for your approval.

Your flushed face is enough for Sakura. She increases the pace of her actions, sucking harder and faster on your rock hard penis. The muscles in her mouth stretch as she takes you deeper than ever before, her cheeks hollowing out with each passing thrust. A thin stream of saliva drips down from the corner of her mouth, mixing with your precum and forming a sticky trail along her jawline.

She tries her best but she couldn’t take you into her throat. The pleasure was still enough for you to roll back your eyes. Continuing with her sucking and bobbing, the mix of fluids foamed up to a frothy white substance, sloppily falling down her mouth, to her hands, to your crotch.

Feeling you pulling her head down, thrusting your penis roughly into her throat, Sakura gasps for air. Her gag reflex kicks in momentarily, causing her to gag and choke briefly, but she quickly regains control, continuing to work her mouth.

It could have been only a couple minutes but you couldn’t last any longer. It all came so fast, you couldn’t even warn Sakura that you were already filling her mouth with cum. Your release startled her, she opened her eyes and jolted back, letting the cum spill out to her hands.

You continued letting out a couple more splurts before you could stop, however you were still twitching maniacally. “Oh my god, sorry Sakura,” you said.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed it off. “That’s exactly the reaction that I wanted. Now let me taste this…”

Sakura scooped up all the semen that had escaped her mouth and poured it back inside. With a slurp, the last strings of cum left her palms. She gulped it down and showed you her empty mouth. She let out a satisfied giggle, watching your dumbfounded face.

“Well, look like that got you hard again, huh?” Sakura said watching your penis coming back to life. “You’re so naughty.”

“You’re the one that just—look at what you just did,” you retorted.

“You’re right…” she agreed. “So? What are you gonna do no? Are you gonna put it in?”

“Do you want to?” you asked.

“I do.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

Sakura laid down on the bed, taking your place. You looked at her, her hair sprawled on the white sheets, her pearly white skin covered in her shiny sweat, her perfectly round breasts drooping down her chest, her creamy thighs. She looked like an angel. You couldn’t believe that you were going to do it with her.

You weren’t the only one. Sakura didn’t want anyone else but you, she’s been thinking about you this whole time and this was going to be the seal of her love.

Sakura opened her legs and let you get closer. With her hand, she helped guiding yourself inside. You sank in with ease. You were forced to blink rapidly and grit your teeth at the new sensation. It was incredibly tight, completely wet, and burning hot.

Your penis stretched her open. She moaned and contorted her face as her vagina opened up to you. Her hand gripped down your forearm with all her might.

“God…” she sighed.

“Are you okay, Sakura?” you asked worryingly. “Does it hurt? We can stop if you want.”

“No, no, it’s not that, we can keep going,” she said. “I just have to get used to it. It’s a bit uncomfortable, that’s all.”

She breathed deeply and pulled on your shoulder, “Please, slowly.”

“Alright,” you said. You contracted all of your muscles to be as slow as possible, as gentle as you could. You let yourself sink, a millimeter at a time, being extremely careful not to let out any sudden movement. Sakura’s face relaxed as you went in, she stared blankly, giving all her attention to the feeling between her legs.

“Okay, like that… alright, that’s it,” she let you know. “I’m good now. I think.”

“Tell me what to do,” you said.

“Try thrusting it a bit,” she said. You nodded and guided your hips back before slowly thrusting your penis back inside.

“Oh…” Sakura moaned. She didn’t look in pain, you were glad. “Yep, that’s good. That’s really good. You can keep going.”

You nodded again and started thrusting at a regular pace, still slow.

Sakura flips around, grabbing the pillow in front of her. You plunge yourself back inside and using your whole weight, you stretch her to the point of bulging her belly.

Gripping the sheets tightly, Sakura cries out in both pain and ecstasy as you brutally claim her pussy. Her vagina accepts you, stretching wide to accommodate your whole length. Each forceful thrust sends waves of pleasure rippling through her body.

Her moans become more and more primal. She cries out in ecstasy, muffling the screams into her pillow.

Unable to contain your growing hunger, you move relentlessly at the roughest pace possible, trying to satisfy your lust. Your movements become increasingly frantic, punctuated by your grunts. Every brutal thrust fills her to the brim, making her feel used and ravaged. The bed shakes violently beneath you as your passion escalates, leaving the once pristine linens drenched in sweat and other fluids.

Despite the intensity of your assault, Sakura doesn't fight it—she loves it.

The new pace costs you a lot. After a minute, you’re tired and way closer than before. You breath heavily, slowing down to give the both of you a rest. Sakura is panting and couldn’t even keep her head up.

“Sorry, Sakura, could you turn around another time?” you asked between your heavy breaths.

“Sure…” she replies weakly. “It will be better for me too.”

You groan quietly as you slide back into her. The rest of her body is stretched out on the bed, she’s way too tired to do anything else. You grab her hips and raise them in a prone stance so you can go deeper. It works, she immediately tightens around you so intensely that you feel like you might climax instantly. Her hands clutch the edge of the bed, her moans are free and loud as her face is no longer buried in the cushions. It's clear that she's on the brink of orgasm, and you continue to thrust into her as hard as possible.

You lean forward to place kisses on her neck and shoulder, your body pressing on top of hers as you slow down the pace to a grind. You want her to feel loved and worshipped. She tries to look up at you but the pleasure is so immense that she can only focus on your blurry silhouette. Sakura is so lightheaded that she her words sound drunk and splurred.

“I—I’m gonna cum,” she says. “Please I want you to cum too!”

A few more thrusts before the dam breaks, her squirt flooding your bed as she moans your name much louder than before.

“I love you!” she screams.

You don’t stop thrusting however as you are also very close to reaching your orgasm. Wrap your hands around her small waist and you can feel her toned abs contracting and relaxing as the spasms of her orgasm keep milking you. Her squirt floods the grooves of her abs, pooling into a shiny mess.

“I’m really gonna cum now,” you says. “I’m gonna cover you in cum!”

“Do it, please!”

“Fuck!” There was no way you were going to last any millisecond longer and with one final thrust, you spill everything you have been saving on her abs. Ribbons after ribbons of thick sperm cover her tummy, her breasts and some even get to her face.

Sakura lays there, exhausted. She wipes the cum of her abs, playing with it, looking at how the strings of thick cum stretch between her fingers. “It’s really warm,” she comments, with satisfaction. “I made you cum a lot, huh?”

“I thought I was going to pass out,” you admit.

She laughs.“Me too.”

You inhale for a moment. “Let me get you some towels.” You get off the bed and walk to the closet. Only then you notice how sore your legs truly were and you have to hold the door to stand up. You grab a couple from the stack of towels and hand them to Sakura.

“Here you go,” you say and help her stand up. Sakura takes them and slowly wipes her whole body. You could feel some of the remaining blood feeding into your penis but you were too tired to do anything else. So you sat down on the bed, besides her.

“You got work tomorrow?” you asked Sakura.

“No, nothing.”

“That’s good,” you say. “Otherwise the others would have scolded me. I can’t imagine what Yunjin would do to me.”

Sakura lets out a breathy laugh, amused but weary. Her shoulders shake gently, and her eyes though tired, sparkled. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t tell her.”

“Thanks,” you said and gave her a smile. “Let’s get cleaned up now.”

The two of you sluggishly move around the bathroom. Sakura must have gotten used to feeling tired after all the dance practices but emotional exhaustion was something else. It wasn’t just the sore muscles, she was exhausted from the ecstasy.

She splashes cool water on her face, and quickly takes off her makeup. You brush your teeth with your eyes half-closed, the toothbrush moving lazily. You exchange tired smiles through the mirror, knowing you are the reason for the other’s tiredness.

Once done, you shuffle back to the bedroom and drop on the bed.

Sat beside you, disheveled and natural, Sakura looked unreal. Bathed by the pool of the moonlight, she only sat still, but your heart couldn’t stop pounding. She was your world.

You took a deep breath when you remembered her words earlier. “I love you.” That’s what she said. “I love you.” Sure, you were in the heat of the moment, the adrenaline was pumping harder than anything else and she probably didn’t even mean it. Maybe it was a “I love how you make me feel.” Maybe it was just another way to praise you. But what if it wasn’t?

You had to know. “By the way…” you start. You gulp down. “Did you say ‘I love you’ before?”

Realizing what she said, Sakura’s face pales slightly. For some reason, she felt scared, and she wanted to cover her face. “Oh, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I mean, I do care about you, but—”

With your heart pounding, you interrupt her. You try to talk to her as gently as possible. “Sakura, wait. Did you mean it? Because if you did, it’s okay.”

Sakura hesitates, she can’t look at your eyes, then nods. “Yeah, I did mean it. I’ve been trying to keep it to myself, but… After this week,” she sighs with frustration. She couldn’t believe what she was saying right now. “Fuck, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I just never had the courage to say it. I don’t want to lose you, I care about you too much.”

Your eyes soften as she talked. “Sakura, I feel the same way. Every time we’re together, I feel so happy, so alive. I didn’t want to say it either, because of the whole situation we got going on. But now that you said it… I won’t hide it.”

Tears well up in Sakura’s eyes, she’s relieved. So relieved. “Really? You feel that way too?”

Sakura stands up and jumps to hug you. You almost fall but you catch yourself with a foot. Her face is against yours, cheek to cheek, you can feel her tears run down your skin. “You have no idea how happy this makes me!”

You sat hand in hand, letting Sakura calm down as she wiped her tears. “You know that time that I told you I wanted to turn back time?”

“Yeah, it was the first time we met.”

“Mh, I thought about it and I wouldn’t change anything. Because I’ve got to meet you.”

You laugh. “God, how did I get so lucky to have you, Sakura. I love you!”

“I love you too!”

THE END

Written, 13 July 2024 - 18 July 2024

#sakura #le sserafim #le sserafim sakura #le sserafim smut #sakura smut #kpop smut

914 notes · View notes

rel124c41 · 4 months ago

Text

LABORATORY LOVE. jade leech

It makes perfect sense that you are failing potionology, you come from a world without magic! You just wished your failures weren’t the recent entertainment to a certain vice-housewarden.

tags: developing relationship, character analysis, teeth analysis, teasing, potion accidents, 5 + 1 trope, comedy of errors, suggestive themes, & getting together

word count: 21,656

Since the beginning of your impromptu enrollment in Night Raven College, classes have taken your dizzy brain and swirled it around like mixed cake batter. Uncaring of your blunders, the courses march on. You have had multiple professors pull you aside for hush conversations about how: magic might not be something you should be studying; you’re showing great difficulty with this section, my door’s open for extra help; do you have any hobbies, perhaps you should look to pursue one of those.

You wonder if they knew you were from another world entirely along with being magicless, their tone might change. Compared to others, you were leaps and bounds above where you should be.

Not that you are aware of your competence. And, even then, it is never enough. Which is admittedly very frustrating. You do not like to be viewed as a failure or incompetent.

Back at home, you were always on top of your studies, kept yourself afloat on a little canoe. In Twisted Wonderland, your limbs grow fatigue with how harshly you have to tread water to stay afloat. Constantly, you felt ready to drown. You manage to withstand it though, avoiding going under by keeping water a fine line across your chin and bottom lip.

And, even then, that is never enough.

I. The scarab beetle was added before ginger root when the correct order is ginger root then scarab.

To be fair, you are tired beyond belief. You had to pull off your gloves multiple times to rub sleep out of your eyes. Switching up the order of the ingredients … This is one of the stupider mistakes you have made in Professor Crewel’s class. To be thoroughly fair, the anxiety about your recent situation coupled with sleeping on the uncomfortable spare bed in Leona’s room has been starting to kill your restful nights.

What a well devised strategy. Chip away at the mental fortitude of a person by taking away physical comforts. Azul Ashengrotto truly knows where to point the arrow notched in his bow.

You just wish he had chosen anyone other than you.

Yawning, you deposit the comatose scarab beetle into the cauldron. One second it is a black freckle on the gray-blue mixture, and then the next second it has been dissolved down to the bone. It ate it as quickly as acid does, you think awestruck, I’m glad I’m wearing gloves. Said gloved hand holds itself outstretched towards Ace, your lab partner, as you murmur, “Okay, hand me the ginger root now.”

“Huh? I already handed you that though,” Ace says, looking up from the logs of cinnamon he is cutting as instructed.

Usually you two have Grim do the physical labor, cutting up ingredients, while you and Ace uptake harder tasks. However, Grim is not free, called in for an impromptu shift during school hours. Part of you cannot comprehend how that is possible – to work during school – but another part of you cannot comprehend magic, so really the whole globe, this Twisted Wonderland, is incomprehensible.

An incomprehensible globe where you make friends with the stupidest of the bunch.

“No you didn’t; you handed me the next ingredient that had to go in.”

“Yeah, which was ginger root. Don’t tell me the fumes in here are making you stupider, Prefect. Your brain fried or something,” Ace asks. He tilts his head in a taunting way that is not effective due to the anemone sprouting from his skull.

“Says the one with the anemone coming out of his brains.”

“Hey! Just because you’re being forgetful doesn’t mean ya get to insult me!”

“Please don’t play smart with me right now. I just need —.” Your words fall out of your mouth as you catch the sight of ginger root sitting pretty on your side of the lab table, untouched and not in the potion. You blank, dumb, until a sudden heat wave washes over you.

Not a blush though you realize as a smoke cloud of brimstone blooms up mushroom-like from your cauldron. Your once squinting eyes widen in fear.

The potion releases a wave of gas as it evaporates away in seconds. It feels like getting punched with heat after opening an oven. As you stand there looking at the bottom of your cauldron, mourning your potion, you suddenly hear laughter in the midst of this new humidity.

“... No — HAHAHA — No fucking way! HAHAHAHAHA!!”

Dread fills you first upon hearing it. Whatever has Ace laughing and pointing at you is definitely not a positive in your book. Sevens above, you are not dealing with being potion-ed cat ears again. It must be something physical on you at very least. Because, Ace has not stopped pointing and bursts out between his bellows, “Now you match the part of looking like an idiot! HAHAHA!”

Annoyance quickly shoves dread to the side. Gut-instinct guides your hand before your brain can catch up. Clutching ginger root, you reel back your arm ready to whack Ace with it until a certain hand shackles your wrist. Shit.

“Ace! (Name)! Once again, this is unacceptable behavior from both of you. Did your parents pick you off the streets and neglect training?” Ah, you recognize those dog analogies anywhere. Curling in on yourself, you turn around to give Professor Crewel a sheepish smile while he keeps your wrist hostage.

“Sorry, Professor Crewel.”

You would be delusional to think your potionology professor has a soft spot for you; he probably only sees you as a nippy Pomeranian or a Retriever freshly showered in mud. The scowl on his face is something you have come to be familiar with from August to November.

Crewel sighs, “Luckily, these supplies are not hard to obtain. I’ll be sending both of you to fetch more ginger root and scarabs from the botanical gardens.” His steely eyes aim at you. “And Prefect, I suggest retrieving a hat for yourself. An unsightly look is one step away from a disorganized headspace. Try to be a bit more mindful, pup.”

“Yes, Professor Crewel.”

You have no idea where the fashion advice came from. However, you are not going to dig yourself a deeper hole by asking the Professor what he means by unsightly look and disorganized head. Besides with the way Ace is still biting down a grin, you expect that you will privy to it soon.

“Dismissed.” Professor Crewel sends you on your way.

As soon as you two round the cauldron, you and Ace are both immediately on one another. He grabs the back of your neck as you kick his shin. Idiot! No you’re an idiot! Says the idiot! Ace pinches your cheek as you give him a Chinese burn, grabbing his forearm and twisting it in your grip. I can’t believe you messed that up! At least I’m not signing contracts to cheat! Stumbling to the door, kicking and fighting with each other, you just barely catch the glimpse of Deuce sending a wince of sympathy your way.

Ace sticks his finger in your ear. His spit-coated touch sends a shiver down your spine. Breaking your whispering, you caterwaul just as you push Ace and yourself out of Crewel’s classroom, “I’m gonna kick you where the sun don’t shine, asshat!” Ace’s cackles are the last thing the classroom hears before the door shuts firmly in place.

The botanical gardens are not somewhere you find yourself often. The mere size of it intimidates you greatly. Plus, it has so many dangerous things lurking inside of it like lion tails, man-eating plants, and carrots that when plucked incorrectly can send you into a coma just from a single scream. For your own growing trepidation, you choose to stay out for safety reasons.

Though splitting up is not your idea, you still concede to it. The guilt over your sleep-addled mistake speeds up your agreement. After all, it was you who switched the order. Thus, you walk around the botanical gardens looking to grab dandelion root (which came before the scarab beetle and ginger root) while Ace gathers a single scarab beetle.

At least Ace takes up the more perilous task for you. Scarab beetles when provoked flicker on and off in a brilliant light display of red until it explodes. If the mage cannot match the rhythm of beeping reds with the light of their magic pen, the scarab self-destructs. It is hazardous for you to anywhere near an alive scarab. Besides …

Danger finds you like a faithful, old friend.

Standing on the little bridge that curves over the miniature river, danger arrives at your side like a mistress. “So pretty,” someone whispers breathlessly. You choose to ignore this, thinking someone is appreciating the flowers. Pamphlet in hand, you worry your bottom lip and consider which side of the bridge you have to walk down to find the dandelion roots.

“He-Hello there, Prefect. Quite a nice day for a stroll, don’t you think?”

Caught off guard, you turn to see who is addressing you. It is one of those Octavinelle twins. He holds an empty jar in his gloved hand. However, you are unsure of which one you are dealing with.

“Ah … yeah,” you twitch as you respond. Where the hell is Ace? You would rather not be alone with a mage that you saw send multiple students to the infirmary only two days ago. You remember it vividly: all the students rushing forward to tear up the contract, as Azul stood on the table, saying with fake direness, “Dear me, I really didn’t want to resort to violence, but alas. Jade. Floyd. Play with them for a bit.”

You shift your eyes away like one might avert the gaze of a stumbling, rabid raccoon. “Sure is … a nice day?” Truthfully, you don’t think you have had one of those in Twisted Wonderland. Your day has just gotten worse in the twin’s presence.

Under the canopy of black walnut leaves and palm washingtonias, you assess all your escape routes. Whichever twin this is, he is looking at you so intensely, eyes half-lidded and the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks. It takes only a moment for you to realize he is staring at what lies on your head, but you have enough time to map your escape route.

“Well, it was nice seeing you –,” you start, heading down the bridge, in the opposite direction of the Octavinelle twin. You just barely make it a step and a half when he catches you off guard again.

“You have Potionology this period, yes? It is a Wednesday after all.” How the hell does he know that?

Yet, hearing how he structures his words, you think you finally recognize which one it is … Jade, who had said to you just yesterday, “And if you’re in need of lodgings, feel free to come and speak with us. Reservations for guest rooms in Octavinelle dorm starts at 100 thaurmarks a night.” The last conversation that happened between you two. Eyes pinching down, you think, he’s such an asshat for saying that to you who is very much broke beyond broke.

“Yeah, I do.” You resume your steadyfast escape route. You can clearly hear Jade walk over the wooden bridge, following after you.

“If my deduction is correct, it seems you have been caught up in the potion accident. What a most unfortunate turn of events; potionology is often a tricky subject for students to grasp.”

Yeah, and without magic or a basic education on this stuff, it’s impossible for me. You send Jade a wary glance. Now matching strides, you really have no choice but to converse with him or your friends will probably suffer more during their shifts. “Yeah, I messed one up.”

But no one says you have to be verbose during it.

You ponder on why Jade is so interested in the multiple sea anemones blooming from your head. When your scuffle with Ace finally ebbed, the Heartslabyul student turned on his front-facing camera so you could finally see what made you look like an idiot. A glowing crown of blue sea anemones form around your head.

You cringed, your matching visage on Ace’s phone doing the same. Of course you are not spared any break from humiliation; when you come back to your temporary lodgings, Leona is probably going to laugh up a sandstorm. Ugh … you hate that stupid lion!

Jade says, “I’ve noticed this happens to you frequently. In August, you gained cat ears and could only speak in crying meows. You were deaged down to a toddler on September 14th. Then in October, you underwent a body swap with your friend, Ace Trappola, for a full five days; Thursday through Monday. Am I correct?” How the absolute fuck does he know that?

“...Yeah.”

“You know, Octavinelle is always willing to help those in need. I, myself, can offer –”

“No thanks.” You glance at the pamphlet and take a sharp left turn. Jade follows.

“My, what a harsh rejection. How audacious of you to deny me when I am scheduled to train Deuce and Ace later on tonight. But, I suppose if that is how you feel –”

Begrudgingly, you turn around and frown, “Be easy on them, won’t you? Bye, Jade.” Snapping your pamphlet open wider, you continue on your way.

What an idiot. You already stuck your neck out enough for them by signing Azul’s contract. Keeping polite conversation with Jade? You could do that. However, you will not take up another deal with Octavinelle anytime soon, unless … well, no, you think to yourself. That hovering ‘unless’ probably won’t happen with Jade. Whatever Jade needs, he can find elsewhere.

Dandelion roots should just be down a little farther; another right turn and you should be upon them. At least that is how your route would have gone if you were not grabbed and spun around by your shoulders. You stare into Jade’s dilated eyes in shock.

“Prefect,” his voice comes out more growl than speech. He soothes his fake humanitarianism voice with a cough and repeats, “Prefect. Just hear me out.” The vice-housewarden almost sounds desperate to keep your attention on him.

“Okay.” You try to ignore the close-lipped smile on his face as you fold up your pamphlet. “Okay.” Dandelion roots are one of the few non-sentient plants in this twisted wonderland, so you can pause your search for Professor Crewel for a mere moment. “I messed up a potion today, but I don’t need your help with it.”

Tutoring … from anyone. You despise the very thought. Before, you were so capable and so independent; now, you have to waver and bend yourself to the assistance of everyone in this alien world. God, you cannot even protect yourself from your day to day. The entire world outscales you like a final boss compared to a NPC.

“Are you absolutely certain? Who knows what kind of misfortune can fall upon you at the hands of a botched potion? Who knows, you could find yourself breathing in poisonous gas or having your intestines turned inside out. What an excruciating sensation.”

A whole body shiver runs down your spine. The fact that that is not out of the realm of possibility makes you loathe your existence in this world even more. Still … “What do you want from me?” … you have Ace and Grim at least making sure you aren’t blown to bits by an exploding cauldron.

“It is just a simple matter of the fungus growing from your head.”

“Fungus?”

Jade’s voice turns so fond that it startles another shiver from you. His lovestruck gaze fastens itself to the apparent mushroom crown sitting on your skull. “Entoloma Hochstetteri mushrooms. The non-scientific name is blue pinkgills.”

Bored and tired, you yawn. Jade glances down at your mouth with pervertish intrigue. It might just be the same amatory he regards the blue pinkgills with staying in his eyes. However, you can imagine him mocking you about having to sleep in Leona Kingscholar’s room so you screw your mouth into a frown.

And, as if reading your body language with ease, Jade offers, “If you are still having troubles with your lodging, I’d benevolently suggest a trade.”

“A trade?”

“A room in Octavinelle, free of charge; all to yourself and your dire-beast for the full two days left in your contract. In exchange, you will give me the Entoloma Hochstetteri blooming from your head. An item for another item. Fair, yes?”

“No.” You straighten your posture. “I want something everlasting; not just temporary satisfaction.”

“Oya? Whatever did you have in mind?”

This is something you have been pondering about for a while. Truthfully, you were considering it your very first week after the encounter with the overblotted creature in the mines. Taking a deep breath, you announce your only term, “I want protection against overblots.”

Jade’s optics grow, dilating and blinking in surprise. It is … simultaneously an extremely well thought out and dumb request. Protection is something you need. But with Jade, someone you barely just met, providing you protection? You neither seem like the type to trust people too quickly or too hold out trust until the very end.

Immediately on detective mode, Jade tries to figure out your aim. “Overblots are very rare phenomenon. Do you –?”

“Tell me more about these pinkgills,” you suddenly interrupt, noticing that he is slipping into doubt over this deal.

A hand covers over his erratic heart, and a small sliver of teeth peek through his smile. “Ah, I’d be delighted to. Blue pinkgills are quite mysterious. No one knows if they are edible because no one has dared to try them. There is a peninsula that features them on their currency as well. It is the only country to have a piece of currency featuring a mushroom on it; I’d be delighted to have the opportunity to visit it someday.”

“That’s really interesting. Are they rare to cultivate,” you ask, faking genuine curiosity.

“Unfortunately, yes. They are native to that one peninsula and thus –”

“Hard to come by? Rare?”

You supply Jade with the words he is looking for. Subtly, you remind him of the fact these limited mushrooms are just a person’s deal away. The blue halo on your head becomes more and more enticing to Jade by the second. Blue that also bleeds with the color, such a psychedelic hue that almost hurts to look at.

You look like an angel under it … You? Jade hesitates at his train of thought; that is not the conclusion he thought his mind would go to.

“What a surprise fufu; you are not as brainless as I intentionally presumed, (Name).” Smitten emotion slowly drains from his dual-eyes as he takes in your visage whole, not just the prize hanging above your head.

This is good. Jack could protect me but he is only a first year mage. Ace and Deuce do a good enough job. Grim is only food motivated. Jade did send multiple students to the infirmary by himself. This – “I’m glad to prove such an intelligent mage such as yourself wrong. It’s the first time I have ever done so.” – This is good. This deal will keep me alive and safe.

Jade shakes the hand you have offered up to him. However, before you can end the contact, he yanks you towards him. A groan of pain bleeds from you as you are pulled chest to chest with him. Chin pinched skyward by his other hand, you look into two halos, one gold and the other umber.

Right away, you clock it as an intimidation tactic, so you do not let yourself appear frightened. Compared to those overblots you faced …

“However, it would not be fair if I did not receive something everlasting as well. Not just temporary satisfaction.”

Subtle eyes dart around the botanical gardens, trying to find Ace, but halos are all you see. “Okay, what do you want on your end?”

“It is quite common for you to find yourself caught up in the misfortune of a poorly made potion. I want to be there – to watch you struggle and to watch you be powerless. That is all you need to give me.”

“I … I can do that.”

“Then, it’s a deal.”

When you met Jade officially in the cafeteria, you picked up his subtle habit of bringing his hooked index finger up to his mouth before he could smile too wide. When meeting with Azul in the VIP Room, he was very subdued and subservient unlike his twin, listening instead of laughing and nodding along instead of nagging vexed. Now when making a deal with the vice-housewarden, you find yourself peering through a tear in the fabric that envelops him day to day.

For the first time ever, you get to see Jade smile with all his teeth. They curl down and up, reminding you almost of cat claws, with an acute sharpness in each individual tooth. They ensnare you.

II. Your basilisk's egg was not incubated at the correct temperature of 2300 degrees fahrenheit.

Your basilisk’s egg is colder than the collective’s by many, many degrees. Honestly, you blame this one on Professor Crewel for not putting the much needed comma between the two and the three; it was completely natural of you to assume 230 degrees fahrenheit was correct when 2,300 is an outrageous temperature. Regular incubators in your world could not even reach that level of heat!

When you cracked the unfertilized eggs of a serpent king into the cauldron, you sheepishly noticed how much lighter the shade of red yours is compared to others. Almost the pink of a flamingo’s feathers, not red like cranberries, not red like everyone else’s.

Already too late though; the pink-hued yolk has already sludged into the cauldron. Gravity, such a conniving bastard. You can only watch helplessly as impact is made; the eggshell in your hand is now empty.

Then, all the liquid in your cauldron rises up like a geyser.

“Woah!”

“Holy shit!”

“(Name)!”

Ducking behind your hands, you yell back at Ace, “I didn’t!” That is all you get out before the potion shower lands all over you. You spit out what got into your mouth, “mean to … bleh!”

Magenta sludge drips off your uniform in thick plopping sounds. It is the consistency of a milkshake and you shiver when you realize some has definitely gone down the back of your shirt.

“Why are both of you clean,” you whine, disassembling the poorly made umbrella your hands made. They drop away from your temple, coated in magenta. Shaking the potion off your gloves, you frown at seeing how both Ace and Grim are unaffected by the geyser that just drenched you. The clumps of potion in your hair make your frown evolve into a grimace.

Grossed out at the sight of you, Ace winches and waves around his magic pen. “Used-a protection spell. Dude, you look ridiculous, haha. Doesn’t that burn?”

“No, it’s oddly really cold.”

Definitely the consistency and temperature of a milkshake. You strip yourself of your gloves, carefully folding them inside out. “Ugh, this is going to take forever to wash off.” You do not even know which part of your body to start shaking off like a dog. Your one good lab-coat and your one good uniform, ruined and presumably stained.

An alert shiver zigzags up your spine, and you turn around just in time to see Professor Crewel come out of his horrified stupor.

As he stands up from his desk, you get this overwhelming urge to run away. You have to physically focus on planting your feet down so this psoriasis itch does not cause you to turn tail and flee. It’s my fault, so I need to accept punishment. Unconvinced by your self-loathing, your body shakes in jitters, ready to rush out of the room should mental resistance let up.

You are unaware of it, but those emotional cactus pricks of needing to run away from danger will follow you all day long today.

Once finally released from Crewel’s classroom — you had to scrub down everything from the floor, use the emergency shower to peel sludge out your hair, and are given the briefest pat of sympathy on the shoulder — you run into Ace on his way to his club meeting. Is it really that late, you think. Grim left to attend all your other classes, skimping out on the cleanup that was ‘so not his fault! see ya!’ Now you wander, weighing if you should go to Octavinelle first or Ramshackle first. Find Grim or Find Jade?

“Can I join ya,” you ask as you slot yourself next to Ace in the hallway. If Floyd is at practice, you might be able to ask him where Jade is which ends the search for one person. However, it a mute point when you realize:

“It’s kinda a coin-toss if Floyd shows up or not,” Ace responds to your question, both of you standing in the doorway of the gymnasium. Where’s Floyd was what you had asked. Diligently, you search the crowd now. With his height he should be easy to spot; you worry your bottom lip with your teeth. There is really no way you can contact Jade as you do not have his number or know his schedule.

What an asshat. You bet Jade just loves the idea of you squirming around to find him. While he can descend on you like a vulture without any forewarning with his sixth sense for entertainment, you have a harder time locating him.

Without any warning, you suddenly sidestep away from Ace. The redhead raises an eyebrow curiously before his expression drops in shock. In the spot where you were standing, Floyd trips and hits the ground hard.

“Woah!!” You and Ace shout in unison.

On the ground, Floyd has the same expression of shock that you two do. Though, it slowly morphs to sadness as he rubs the back of his skull. Seated on the gymnasium floor, rubbing his bruise, Floyd grumbles sullenly, “Why ya do that, Shrimpy? I just wanted to squeeze ya. Haven’t seen you all December.”

Ignoring that, you ask, “Floyd, do you know where Jade is?”

“Ya wanna see Jade?” That relights the eel’s energy. He smiles like he knows something you don’t – which is probably a lot of things, considering where you come from and where you are. “Sure, I’ll take ya. I wasn’t feelin’ basketball practice anyways.”

So, thus you end up following Floyd and Ace like a duckling. Thinking to yourself that this will have to be what happens more in the future. Find someone who knows where Jade is, glue yourself to his side after you messed up a potion, conclude a trail of test runs that borderline on torture. Yet … it is worth it to some extent.

Vividly, you recall each instance where Jade Leech put himself between you and your faithful friend, Danger. He protected you with a variety of spells the first years have not learned yet in NRC’s curriculum. It really is a valuable deal.

After Azul Ashengrotto’s overblot, talk between you and Jade has been sparse. It is not like the two of you are going to become friends. A mouse does not become buddy-buddy with a cat. There will never be mutualism between the two species.

Your train of thought slowly ebbs when you realize Floyd, Ace, and yourself are nearing up on Jade. Floyd seems to be crouching forward, in a way that you assumed he did earlier when trying to ambush and scare you at the gym’s entrance. This should be interesting, seeing if Floyd could succeed in getting the jump on his twin. At least it would have been if you didn’t feel like a sword sliced down your spine, spreading heat all over the planes of your body.

“Shit!” You shriek, rushing and bumping into Floyd, seconds before someone yells:

“Hey! Look out!”

In the exact spot you were standing, a framed portrait makes a crashing descent. Well, it would have been crashing if not for a lilac spell wrapping itself around the portrait. Quick and alert, Jade holds out his magic pen, levitating the talking portrait while you and Floyd gather your bearings.

“Geez, Shrimpyyy, what was that for,” Floyd groans, rubbing his arm with a sour look. “You’ve been more like a jumpin’ fish than a shrimp. All skittish and squirmy.”

“I’m sorry, I just felt – Jade, cut it out!”

It is not that Jade is doing anything particularly mischievous. However, when the spell rotates the portrait to face you instead of with its back facing all of you, a shiver that is painful and palpable burns all your pores. The portrait is of a lich, rotted gray skin with curling yellow horns and piercing red eyes.

The voice that comes from the portrait sounds like dark corners of a dangerous night. “What are you mortals looking at?”

Run away, each branch of the nervous system agrees in unison. Terrified, you push off Floyd and rush behind Jade, innately remembering he is supposed to protect you.

“Wh-What are you doing, (Name)?” Ace asks, glancing at you in confusion.

The Horned King seems just as skeptical towards you. Jade, raising a perfect eyebrow, looks back at your cowering form and the portrait.

You can see all the calculations erasing, rewriting, and improving themselves in his head. His million and one hypotheses about the world around him.

“Hm, this is curious,” Jade murmurs just as the person who dropped the portrait calls out:

“My bad man. Stupid spell.” Over the railing of the stairwell, the student setting up the portraits sends you all an apologetic look. Then, noticing the nefarious grin on the vice-housewarden’s face, says quicker, “I’m so sorry about that!”

“Nonsense, I think this has caused an interesting revelation.” Slowly, Jade levitates the portrait up to the student who is very skittish to carry it on with his own spell. “Prefect, how do you feel right now?”

“I don’t know how to describe it … Like a bunch of fire ants just crawled on my skin and bit me all at once.”

“Seems you do know to articulate your thoughts.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, Jade.”

He smiles as if you have just complimented him. “Did you mess up a potion beforehand?”

Your eyes squint in suspicion. “Yeah, I uncooked my basilisk egg. How did you know I messed one up though?”

“Simply an observation. I think the potion causes you to have a heightened sensitivity to danger. You knew when danger was coming and rushed away from it. Foresight?”

“I suppose, who knows,” you say, watching the portrait like a bunny in a burrow might watch a predator, waiting for it to slip away to another area. Tension ebbs from you as the other student takes it and begins his task of rearranging them. You step out of the protective shadow of Jade Leech.

“Who knows,” you repeat, intrigued. “Maybe if I mess up a potion like this again, I can call our deal off. I won’t need your help.” A smile comes up to your face, imagining yourself independent.

Jade only scowls. You wonder whatever for but —

“What did you do to mess up the potion, (Name)! Please, I need it! This would be like an alarm for whenever Riddle’s nearby! I could get away with so much!” Ace squeezes your shoulders with a bruising intensity.

Ripping yourself from him, you stumble back. A soft ‘ow’ parts your mouth when you collide with something, spine to chest. Jade’s gloved hands come down upon your shoulders unexpectedly, pinning you in place. “Basilisk eggs are a delicacy. They aren’t hard to obtain but they are certainly pricey. However, if you are ever serious about your inquiry, Ace … Azul’s office is always open to help.”

It seems that Ace’s sense of danger is alive and well too, for he takes several steps back at Jade’s words. “Well … when you put it like that, heh. I suppose I’m alright.” His eyes shift to the hold Jade has on your shoulder, not shaken off or side-stepped.

“But you were so eager before.” Jade frowns, putting on an act. He looks awful sorry to see Ace skirter away like a crab poked by sticks at the beach. It is a mere masquerade.

“Naah, I’m good. Have fun, (Name)!”

“Ha-Have fun?!” You sputter indignant.

But Ace has already left with Floyd in tow. Basketball practice waits for no man. Left alone in the hallway, you shudder in the delicate embrace of a dangerous predator.

“Have fun … what an appropriate saying.” Jade leans down over you with a smile. You should have known from that smile alone it was going to be bad. And it proves to be bad! Because, of course, it has to do with mushrooms again.

Jade takes you hiking. Apparently, his club starts around the same time as Floyd, and Jade is nothing but meticulous about schedules. So, you are going to be alone in the mountains with Jade … it does not take a magical potion to know that it is a new episode of a true crime podcast waiting to happen.

You tell the three Ramshackle ghosts if you do not come back to treat Grim kindly as you zipper up the hoodie Jade said you would need. The knock on your building’s door sends a shiver down your spine that burns. Like a lightning bolt of prickling pain that makes each pore tingle with fire. You are starting to regret this contract.

“So what exactly am I going to be doing?” You ask Jade as you two make your way down a beaten trail. A heightened sense of danger seems quite trivial for a walk in the woods.

“I was rolling the traits of the potion over in my head,” Jade says, his back to you as he leads the way. “And I was thinking, what a perfect opportunity to unearth the mystery of blue pinkgills.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one has gathered up the courage to test if they are poisonous or not. Being poisoned is an obvious endangerment to a body’s health, don’t you agree?”

“You can’t be serious.” His back never turns. “Jade, no way!”

The smile in his voice is palpable as he teases, “I am only joking. After your potion wore off, the blue pinkgills you gifted me decayed instantly.”

You breathe a short-lived sigh of relief. “However, that doesn’t mean your potion can’t be utilized on this hike.”

“I’m not going to eat a single mushroom.” You vow.

“Nothing of the sort. The hypothesis I want to test out is a bit different.”

Hypothesis? This relationship via contract is akin to a type of scientist’s experiment. Before you can think about the roles of yourself and Jade, your entire body is engulfed with a terrible sense of burning like each particle suddenly was torn in two. It is an appropriate reaction when you realize an entire uprooted tree is rocketing towards you with high-speed velocity.

“Shit!” You shriek. That is far as your body stays your own. Each atom of the muscular system is possessed by the potion. The potion puppets your body and you find yourself successfully leaping over the horizontal tree-trunk. One hand plants itself on the wood; your legs bunch up to your stomach and then you are catapulting yourself over a log.

When you plant yourself on the opposite side, feet landing perfectly, your gaze hardens into a glare. “What the hell, Ja–!” An uprooted bush tries to ambush you. Shrieking, the potion puppets all but your fearful vocal cords.

“Now, let’s see,” Jade muses, waving his magic pen. His gold and olive eyes study you. “If I attack from both the front and the back, does it react simultaneously?”

“Jade!”

“Excellent, it does,” Jade celebrates with a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

So, thus it begins. Your first real experiment with Jade and he is throwing an entire forest at you. Frantically, your body jumps and leaps out of the way of roots that try to sweep your legs and rocks that try to cut your arms. You even do a front flip to avoid a particular rock being thrown at you. You don’t know how to do flips unless on a trampoline! Nine of our ten times, you land on your butt performing them; yet, on solid ground you just completed your first front flip on land. Precise yet abusive, your body is puppeted by the potion and Jade’s ministrations.

If you had known you were going to be attacked, you would have never chosen Jade as your protector.

Suddenly, in the hurricane of foliage and earth, all it changes track and aims away from you. Each individual part – rock, tree branch, colt of dirt, flower and mushrooms – splits. Ignoring your body, the hurricane slips behind you in a frenzy. Wind magic maneuvers your hair in the same direction of all that flying fauna. Then, a fist is in front of your face.

Your body does not dodge. Rather, it plants itself like stone, sensing all the danger is gone.

You hear all the uprooted discord crashing behind you. Each rock lands like a meteor into the ground, tree branches nosedive down like crashed airplanes, and flowers are shredded apart like brittle paper. It is like when the hatch of a truck’s cargo bed opens on the highway, everything crashing yet the front seat is all calm. All is calm besides the paused fist inches from your nose.

Jade’s leather gloves. The ridges where leather sits to make the indents and folds of his knuckles. You are not graced much time to analyze the sight, to analyze the fist that most certainly would have broken your nose into a bloody pulp.

Deliberately, Jade straightens out. A lot of momentum had been used when rushing towards you, aiming his gloved fist like a tracking missile. Unraveling himself from his crouching position slowly, his dual-colored eyes fix you with an intrigued look. He withdraws his fist to rest by his side. “Hm.”

Now that everything is tranquil, you realize how ragged your breath is as you question back, “Hm?”

“The spell did not have you jump out of the way when I went to attack you. Perhaps it could not differentiate between all the foliage around and a person.” The same hand, that would have swirled up all your nasal tendons and bones into some crude red salad, moves to rest quizzically under his chin.

Chest pounding, you spit out, “I don’t get it.”

A diagram blooms by the left side of Jade’s head. Despite your words not being an invitation to explain, he does deliberately like you are some foolish student. Like you are someone stupid. He is probably using some elementary magic too, two figures, one red and one blue, appearing from the simple spell. “It is quite simple,” he says slowly.

Asshat, you think.

“Since your botched potion has increased your sense of danger, I decided to test what kind of variables would get a reaction from you.” On the diagram, the red figure has wormlike lines squirming out of its head.

“I threw a wide variety at you: clumps of dirt, mushrooms, tree branches to whole trees, even the smallest flowers you would dodge.” In the hand of the blue figure, a gold ring has surrounded his fist and crude drawings of all that Jade listed start to throw themselves at the red figure. Wildly panicked, the red figure hops and twirls around to avoid everything. “However,” Jade continues, a frown forming.

“When I added myself to the mix,” the blue figure suddenly appears in front of the red figure, posed like a superhero about to punch through an impenetrable wall, as all the crude drawings of rocks and trees clatter to the diagram’s ground, “I anticipated the usual reaction,” the red figure finds itself in comatose, “the reaction changed though. You didn’t move. In fact, you stood there almost confidently.”

By now, you finally manage to get your breathing under control. With your first solid breath, the diagram of magic starts to flicker into nothing. Crossing vexed arms, you hypothesize aloud, “Perhaps it has already worn off.”

Electricity sparks harshly on your nape; a sudden thought forms. Move your head right now, your bones and flesh say in unison. Involuntary, your neck tilts until your left cheek collides with your shoulder. A whooshing sound darts past your ear. You watch stunned as the bullet-esque rock Jade controls with magic buries itself into a nearby tree. As if it was fired from an assault rifle!

“An incorrect assumption; you are still responding so we’ll rule that thought out.”

The adrenaline that keeps you docile, almost sedated like a syringe-given drug, slowly drains from your body. Your typical attitude resurfaces and – “You –!” A skirmish between shock and anger pulls your face into a constipated look. “You could have killed me! What if that went through my head!”

“Please,” he tuts with pretend exasperation, thoroughly amused at your reaction. “I’m a capable mage who has mastered many tricks. Losing control on something as tiny as a pebble is never going to happen. Besides, I am to not harm you or risk losing my entertainment.”

Like you would believe that. Which you tell him, stomping your foot and pointing an acute nail at him, “Like I have any reason to believe a grand lie like that! I think you’d laugh over my injured body if you got the chance. You know what, Jade? Deal off! I’m not going to be used like a lab rat.”

Having said your piece, you whirl on your feet. There is a lot of debris and a fallen tree or two … no more accurately ripped and thrown tree or two you will need to climb over, but you are going back to Ramshackle. Tucked in a safe bed, letting this potion shed from your system, that is where you are going to. If only your wrist was not grabbed.

Shouldn’t I have yanked my wrist away before he could touch me, you think, glancing up from the point of contact into a pair of deplorable eyes. Who the hell does he think he is, batting you with sharpened paws as you squeak and scurry back and forth in a rodent panic.

The cat keeps his teeth hidden as he says, “Now, let’s not be so rash. After such a strenuous exercise, the natural course of action is to stop and replenish yourself; not exert yourself more by taking a long, long walk back to the school. I’ll prepare something for us.”

You yank your wrist back. “No way – what you want me to eat those mushrooms; help you identify which one is poisonous or not? You’re sadistic.”

“I have been called worse. However, must I remind you what you stand to lose if you call off our contract?” Your feet pause in their retreat but you dare not turn around. “It would be most unfortunate if this ends so early too.”

Part of you imagines how his face splits into a grin like those shapeshifters in old horror movies, splitting a jagged line across his features; perhaps he even tilts his head seductively to the side so the sunlight catches his enamels in a perfect way; you know from tone alone his smile must be the cat who got the cream.

Which is why when you turn around, you keep your eyes focused on his knees – trying to avoid looking at the thigh straps of his outfit. You almost feel a bit patronized when Jade says, “If anything happens to be poisonous, I had some Ipecac medicine on me.”

You try your best to not look so sad and slouched when you follow Jade.

From the impromptu clearing where trees were ripped up, or perhaps it was all planned down to last detail even this intentional clearing, Jade unloads his backpack. He sets down this small, portable grill table, unfolding the legs to stand upright. Miniature chairs for two with a pine green and sea green triangle patterns are propped upright. Exceptional care is taken when he removes his blue jacket and white hoodie, leaving himself in a black turtleneck.

Just how strong is the guy, you wonder, watching him pull out of this out of a seemingly bottomless backpack. It is only when the hoodie is gone that you get the answer. The sharp curvatures of his biceps are visible because the turtleneck is so tight. A hormonal part of you squeaks in fear like a mouse.

You busy yourself with poking the fire Jade has started in the grill’s belly-like canopy. Whatever chunks of logs were thrown at you now stir under your ministries, distracting yourself from the man of the hour. As you prod with your lone stick, Jade starts to prepare your shared meal.

“So, why do you think it happened?”

“Hm?” Jade looks up from the kebab stick in his hand.

“Why do you think I didn’t move when you went to punch me?”

“Ah,” Jade adds another mushroom to his equally odious, fungi version of Vlad Tepes’s impalment displays, “I have several running theories. Though I most strongly attribute it to confusion.”

“I quite understand what a fist in my face means.”

Jade laughs. “I’m glad but rather I am hypothesizing that it was confusion over me, the flesh I’m in.”

“That makes no sense; I definitely react to people. I reacted to Floyd, and you and him are cut from the cloth.”

“Yes, however there were many variables in the air. As a result, the possibility that the potion saw me as an outlier is not so far-fetched. You were so focused on all the soil and rocks; thus, you ignored me.”

“But the potion reacts to impending danger or whatever is trying to harm me. And I totally see you as a danger.”

“How kind of you.”

“Ugh!” You push the logs more aggressively and fire pops in bigger bursts.

“You reacted to Floyd just fine. When the talking portrait fell, you side-stepped. However, these were all separate instances and not together.”

You consider this, face scrunching. Jade does have brilliant deductive skills; now contemplating it, it is not so far-fetched like he said. Perhaps the potion can only react to living things and similarly only react to non-living things. Yet when Jade grabbed your wrist … you start to ponder on that … but your thoughts disintegrate when Jade starts to fill the grill-plate with his mushroom kebabs.

“I’m not eating those.” Your face keeps that scrunched up expression.

“While not equal to red meat, mushrooms still are a good source of protein. Truly, after your little squabble with nature, I think you might find you quite enjoy these.”

“Not a chance in Hell. They don’t look appetizing at all.”

“Have you ever had them before?”

“No but —.”

“How will you know you don’t like them if you never try them?”

How annoying; Jade sounds like every adult you ever met in your life. Really, you are fixated on wearing this scrunched look like a model with the latest trends. Nose wrinkled and brow furrowed, you look down at the arrangement of your presumed next meal. “I’m just a picky eater. You don’t have a sandwich in that bag of yours?”

“Afraid not,” Jade apologizes without an apologetic expression. “I find relying on nature to remind me of home; a hunt is a hunt no matter whether below or above.”

“So you must have some berries on you or something,” you deduct, trying to find yourself an out.

“Afraid not.” Again, this is said very unapologetically. “Though you are most welcome to wrangle yourself a worm out of the ground. Maybe that potion will help you locate a squirrel that you can overpower.”

“You’re lucky you don’t have this potion on you, or else you could sense my foot’s about to hit your crotch.”

“So violent,” Jade smiles behind the fist which curls up to his mouth, “Please, I implore you: try.” Now he is just teasing you instead of being malicious.

You punch the side of his thigh then go back to observing. There is a decent char on each mushroom now that is more a golden brown than a deep caramel brown.

“You know, if you brine and deep-fry gray oyster mushrooms, they take on the texture of fried chicken. The taste is similar enough when a simple illusion spell can get the pickiest eater to try them.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Your spine pricks with that familiar, forbidding sense.

“Oh no, you misunderstand.”

Jade says before he starts leaning in to regale you with a story of how he managed to trick Azul their freshmen year to eat mushrooms for five months straight. Azul’s comfort food almost ruined evermore. It is odd to see such a mélange of fondness and sadism on a person’s face but Jade wears it well.

Eventually, you are graced with other food: grapes that Jade has in his backpack. Apparently there are some ducks a little ways down the hiking trail that Jade feeds. They aren’t the type to hibernate or fly south for the winter, the Twisted Wonderland version of mallards. Excited, you implore him to show you them as it is only right after tormenting you so, paying you back for the maltreatment.

He says you need to raise your price for torment or else the entire school will abuse you, but he takes you to the ducks all the same.

III. The measurement for Eastern bat’s blood was off by 1.5 ounces.

“Usually when you hold out a hand, there is something in it to offer up,” Jade says analytically. In front of him, your right hand is outstretched.

This world really is out to get you. Not only are you fumbling along in a university that requires a knowledge of foreign, elementary knowledge and has an entrance exam people only pass with Willy-Wonka-ticket luck, but the units of measurements are completely alien to you. Incorrectly, you drained your Eastern bat for half a second too short. Blame can always be pinned on Ace just shrugging when you showed him the beaker; Jade probably will tut and tell you to uphold responsibility.

So, facing him now empty-handed, you say sullenly, “I messed up a potion.” You try your best to ignore the absolute glee that overtake Jade’s features. “You … The effects when … Well, just take off your glove, touch my hand, and you’ll see.”

Today is going to suck majorly. Part of you cannot comprehend what odious, monstrous things Jade Leech will do with. Your foresight with him really needs improving; Octavinelle’s vice-housewarden is an enigmatic mystery to you. When flesh mets flesh, the touch of it stings you like a jellyfish.

His hand is nicely manicured you observe. Just an appropriate enough free edge of the nail to be unamusing yet secretively sharp if need be. His nails won’t cut you up into ribbons without speed and force. It is also a cold hand that feels like resting your cheek on silk when feverish.

Must be because he is cold-blooded and winter is still being stubborn. Taking a deep breath, you look at Jade who is looking intently at you with intrigue. “Was this just an excuse to hold my hand? How quaint, Prefect,” Jade teases when nothing extraordinary eye-catching happens.

Shouldn’t he know to observe the subtleties? You decide to embarrass yourself further by answering, “Just be patient and observe.” Then, hands still stacked upon one another, you turn a bit towards the open hallway you had stopped Jade in.

As the nominated test subject, you had drank the potion when Crewel instructed you to in potionology. Nothing happened and you were given an F. Then, humiliated in front of the class, you realized later that the potion’s intended effects were skewed slightly.

It had taken a lot of trial and error to realize the effects of the potion when first infected. Upset at Ace for not thoroughly reading the measurements, you had taken him by the shoulders and shaked him. In retaliation, he took your cheeks and squished them together to cut off your bemoans. You pinched his cheek in retaliation and then Grim suddenly caterwauled that you two had … disappeared?

Like you said, it took a lot of trial and error. You experimented with Grim, Deuce, and Ace outside the hallway in the main yard. Seeing if it worked skin to fur, seeing if the effects lasted after a quick high five, and figuring out it took a constant touch between two to work but did not work on a third touch.

Now, you have to explain to Jade that both of you are under an invisibility potion that is skewed. So you demonstrate by reaching out and slapping the nearest student across the face. It takes you a while to sum up the courage, the crowd swimming past you. Jade almost grows impatient and tries to retract his hand. Yet at the moment, you remember Schönheit’s face. It feels so satisfactory after being pushed around all the fucking time (especially during VDC) to watch the Pomefiore student stumble in shock. Your hand stings pleasantly.

Jade flinches in surprise and you quickly squeeze his hand tight. Having the contact break after striking a random student is not ideal.

Background Pomefiore student – you decide his name is C – holds his flushing cheek and whirls around, head on a swivel. He finds no culprit. “Hey! … did you just – Um … Who did,” C’s hair shakes back and forth with his frenzied head turn, “Someone … Someone just hit my beautiful face!”

Behind you, watching C with you, Jade starts to chuckle. The knuckle of his left hand comes up to his lips as he fruitlessly tries to cork laughter. Then, inhibition escaping him, he is suddenly laughing like an amused teen instead of some super villain. His shoulders bounce in time with his mirth.

“I see,” he says a bit breathlessly after his laughing fit. “We are under a potion of invisibility.” His eyes track the Pomefiore student. “A potent one too if that student was not able to even sense us.”

C has already left so you release Jade’s hand slightly, still keeping them sandwiched on one another. “Exactly. Unfortunately, it only works with skin to skin contact. We were supposed to brew something that turned a person invisible but this one requires a second body.”

For a moment, Jade’s eyes burn with a dangerous intrigue. Dread fills you like a river. Part of you surmises that you will not be able to predict what malicious actions he will have the two of you perform to terrorize the entire school. As if wanting to pry your ribcage open, Jade repeats your explanation to make sure he has all the available information, “So no one can see us or hear us as long as we touch?”

You shrink away at the dangerous lilt in his voice, so Jade takes to interlocking your fingers together. “Yeah, that’s the basics of this potion.” You look at your interlocked fingers as if they are a threading nest of rattlesnakes instead of fingers embracing.

“How quaint. Typically invisibility potions and spells are traceable through the wisps of magic they leave behind. Perhaps that side-effect is neutralized because you are magicless.”

“Maybe … I don’t really know.”

“Hm,” Jade studies your desolate look. “Let us be on our way then.”

“Wait!” You dig your heels into the ground. “Where are we even going?”

“To my dormitory. I need to retrieve some supplies before we utilize this potion’s potential.”

“Wait!” You dig your heels into the ground. “Why can’t we just interlock elbows!”

Finally, that seems to reel Jade out of his steadyfast mission to bring you to some second location. Gold and umber eyes glance down to your intertwined fingers. The bridge of repeating Zs which the heat from you and him met together. His hold is not so outrageously tight where you have no choice to stay.

“It would be most unfortunate if you were to slip and lose your grip. With a tighter hold like this,” he readjusts your contact to passive hand holding, your fingers unlocking from one another, “I’m assured that we will not break contact.”

“I guess that makes sense.” You … mourn? that you no longer get to hold his fingers equally in yours. But you asked for interlocking elbows. You grimace. “... Hey! Why do you say that like I’d trip! You could trip too.”

“With all the trouble you stumble into, it would be imprudent of me to not prepare for you falling in the literal sense. Do not worry though; I will be there to catch you.”

“Who says I want you to catch me? Hell, I think you’d catch me, only to fake out, and then drop me a second later.”

“Fufufu, I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Ugh, don’t smile like that.”

So, doubly regretful and relieved that your hand-holding formation got a new look, you allow yourself to be dragged off to Octavinelle. This you could probably achieve without hand-holding but you like the secrecy. Plus, you got to flip off Riddle Rosehearts and Leona Kingscholar without repercussions. Eventually, Jade steers you towards the bedrooms located in Octavinelle. Wholly relying on him, you give him a withered olive branch of trust to not torment or abuse you too much.

“Do you share a room with someone,” you ask as Jade lets go of your hand. The door to his dorm is closed currently, so secrecy lives on. Your eyes are glued to the opposite side that Jade did not walk towards.

“My brother and I signed up for a double dormitory in middle school.”

“Makes sense,” you say. Sheets scrunched up, shoes and crumbs peppered all over the place, and a horrible sense of cleanliness? You doubt Jade would put up with this from another else but his brother.

Attention drifting, you turn and watch Jade shift through a thick binder on his desk. He takes it from this apparatus of gold that sits on his neat desk. Teal with golden edges, it is one of three heavy binders. Seriously, the thing is at least a good eight inches thick with papers. “What’s that?”

The smile on Jade’s face tells you that is either going to regale or inform you about something sinister. Each sharp, serrated edge gleams like secrets spoken under candlelight. Though gloveless, his hand still perches under his chin. That tunnel of fangs opens. “Simply some information I have had to collect for Azul. It dates all the way back from our first year, down to Orientation Day. Would you like to see?”

Curiosity kills the cat; too bad you are more like the lab rat. Your eyes drawn down to the now open binder thoroughly intrigued. “Wouldn’t Azul be pissy at you for showing someone such valuable information?”

“Perhaps. But, I thought you disliked each housewarden with a vengeance.” Seeing you are still unconvinced, Jade assuages your worry, “All this information I have collected painstakingly by myself. It is under my jurisdiction who I choose to share it with.”

“And that just happens to be me,” you ask, anticipating some catch. Still, you shuffle over to the desk quite eagerly. “What do you get out of showing me this?”

“Just the pleasure of seeing you squirm.”

“Ha. Ha.” You laugh dryly. Electing to ignore that little comment, you turn your attention towards the binder’s pages.

Painstakingly proves to be an appropriate way to describe how detailed the pages are. Reports upon reports of different students stare at you, even with photographic identity in the top corners. It looks more like a report on prisoners than something a student has made. As you flip through, you do spy dates from last year. The margin of notes detail a number of things: past deals made with Azul Ashengrotto, a list of allergies, schedules of classes for each individual student, and a few have their Unique Magics column filled (which you have been told most mages keep those specific spells very private). Some students even have a column labeled Weaknesses on them.

“God, this is,” you say awestruck. You flip through some more. In alphabetical order, Bucchi, Clover, and Diamond are the ones you recognize first. You wonder if at the beginning there is a section detailing Al-Asim too. The absolute punctiliousness of Jade has some students taking up ten to fifteen pages. “This is –”

“Terrifying?” Jade incorrectly supplies the word.

Attention finally broken from the binder, you look up at Jade who is leaning into you slightly. There is an unreadable iota of something in his eyes. Was he hoping to scare you away? “No, not at all.”

“You’re not off put?”

“I’m more impressed by it. I mean, I know how Night Raven College is now. Trust me; been pushed around since day one by students and the classes. This … This is what you have to do to survive here.” You overlooked the page you are on, some random Ignihyde student with a D surname. “I don't, however, think sunlight is an allergy.”

“Trust me,” Jade takes your hand, “for students of that dorm, you would be convinced otherwise.”

“So, what are you going to do with this?”

“We are going to be adding to it.”

So, that is how you and Jade spend your day. Trekking through the hallways of Night Raven College and sometimes even walking unnoticed through certain dorms, you both collect information on students. Filling in the blanks in Jade’s sheets and dating new, unexpected information that you happen to stumble upon.

It is fairly entertaining. Yours and Jade’s preferences towards entertainment are obviously different, but … this is fun. Jade keeps it fun. Initially, you thought intel gathering would be dull and tedious like bird watching, bidding time for a certain student to let something slip. Somehow, you find yourself stifling chuckles that no one could have heard anyways.

This impromptu espionage is much better than how you would have originally spent your afternoon. Leaning into Jade (just to make certain you stay physically touching) you joke about all the embarrassing scenes you two stumble upon. Night Raven College students really are magnets for trouble. You are pleasantly shocked when Jade, smiling with all his predator teeth, suggests you go up to a student and give them a wet-willy.

You never knew Jade could be this fun to hang out with!

You understand that Twisted Wonderland is an eat or be eaten world. And, as Floyd calls you, you are a shrimp. A shrimp with a drizzle of cajun sauce and seasoned with red pepper flakes to be the most appetizing for: picking on, abusing, and just overall suffering from overblots, potions, and plain old magic. It feels nice to regain a bit of power. To see that even mages have weaknesses is a nice balm to your endless ache. To laugh at their misfortune for once.

For the first time in a while, you do not feel that weight of being a failure. That everlasting pressure of having the lowest marks lightens. With an eel at your side, you find yourself a bit elevated on the food chain with certain privileges.

Hand in hand with Jade, you two find yourself walking down a corridor. You have taken to holding a few of your own notes in your non-dominant hand. In front of Jade, his binder is hoisted by a levitation spell as his pen works on writing the information he finds useful.

The binder is under an invisibility spell; so are your notes. However, this kind of magic leaves a trace of smell that high-ranking mages and beastmen are privy to. Magicless as you are, you do not notice a shift of fragrance in the air but you take Jade’s words at their face value.

His levitating pen has been consistently moving across pages. Even when Jade turns to you, smiling widely and joking about today’s events, his pen keeps moving like a restless shark. So, you are wholeheartedly caught off guard for Jade to suddenly halt in his steps. The pen dots its punctuation then hovers still as death in the air. “Jade?”

“Shush,” Jade snips. You almost have half the mind to remind him that no one can hear you under the botched potion. Instead, you turn your attention towards what has stolen the smile off Jade’s face and grabbed his attention so thoroughly.

An Octavinelle student happens to be walking out of a classroom. He has blonde hair swept messily like a tumbleweed and that recognizable armband on his biceps. No one you recognize though. Someone Jade must know, given how intensely he is staring. Before you know it, the binder has been magically closed.

“(Name).” You turn when he calls your name. “May I suggest a little detour? Won’t take longer than a minute.”

“Uh yeah,” you nod dumbly. “Sure.”

So, where the Octavinelle student exits, you and Jade enter. No one notices you entering as is the new normal. It seems to be an after school project group. A few students have pushed two laboratory tables together and are in the middle of writing notes. Jade makes a bee-line for the table which worries you – having been content with hiding in backgrounds and shadows with him.

On the table, there is a coffee thermos right where the only empty seat is. None of the mages are alert enough to notice Jade unscrewing the thermos’s top. You are acutely aware of each move Jade makes though. Paralyzed, you observe like a student watching their scientist experiment combusting. It feels very similar to watching a burning train-wreck, enough to make your jaw drop.

In the pocket of your stunned silence, Jade delicately tucks the black strand of hair behind his ear. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down thrice; a deep phlegmy sound vibrates out his throat. When Jade (out of all the students in Night Raven College!!) hacks up an impressively huge, light yellow spitwad which falls out of his puckered lips into the awaiting cup of coffee.

When he straightens up to you, black hair split behind his ear and framing his cheek, he smiles with the satisfaction of a job well done. “That is all I needed to do. We may carry on; I believe jurisdiction of our next rendezvous falls upon you.”

You get to pick the next student you two humiliate or gather notes on … you know this, it computes in your brain, but … you gape at Jade with a wide mouth, “Who are you and what the fuck have you done with Jade?”

Because gathering information on students and maliciously keeping them in a binder? You can imagine Jade doing such a thing. Taking the opportunities that this botched potion has given him and causing a bit of mischief with you? Well, that is what you are doing right now so it is very easy to imagine. Jade spitting into a student’s drink as a form of revenge or entertainment? Even after seeing it with your own eyes, you cannot fully believe it.

“I assure you, I have not undergone any body-swapping potion at this time.”

“I just – Dude. Dude,” you huff out a laugh. “That was –” Then, suddenly, you are laughing uncontrollably. It is really an advantage that this potion makes you invisible to the ears too. “Hahahaha!! Oh my – hahaha!!”

It surprises you a second time when Jade joins in. “Fufufu … heh … Hahahaha!”

In the afterglow of shared laughter, you and Jade look at each other. His eyes are sharp like his teeth. There is a sensation in the air; you can only akin it to walking on a balancing beam and being brave enough to walk across the soft foam for the first time. Like you are trying something new, here with him.

“I just can’t believe you would do that. You of all people.” Your eyes linger hard on the thermos.

“I do admit it is a bit juvenile of me. Typically, Floyd spits in drinks while I add a certain fungal toxin. This was a bit more personal.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side.” Yet, you have a smile glued to your face. As does Jade. The hand holding does not help with your growing fluster.

Yet before Jade can respond, the door to the classroom is thrown open. The Octavinelle student comes stomping in with a vengeance. Irritation on his face and phone in his hand, he howls, “Fuck Azul Ashengrotto!” You happen to share this sentiment wholeheartedly. “I swear, I cannot even piss without him needing to know! Why did I get saddled with the worst housewarden!”

One of Azul’s contractees, you think just as a student from the table pipes up, “What does he need from you this time?”

“Ugh,” the Octavinelle student groans. He sits down in the empty stoll with a thud; his arm comes up to rest on the table but he does not grab the thermos. “‘Parrantely, our vice called out for his night shift. So, Azul has to schedule three guys just to replace one.”

The Octavinelle student takes a big sip of his coffee. You watch the smile grow on Jade’s face, teeth gleaming. As he sets down the thermos, he continues complaining, “It’s so unfair. I have to drop everything I’m doing just at the drop of a hat for this bitching guy, or else ‘there will be repercussions for breaking contract terms’. What bullshit.”

“Didn’t you break your terms last week,” a Heartslabyul student questions.

“Yeah, when you skipped your shift to go Foothill Town for the weekend,” another Octavinelle student, different from the blonde, pipes in.

“Yeah, I was supposed to taste-test some potion for our vice. Told them I had a family birthday to go to; he won’t find out.”

“I already found out,” Jade leans in and whispers, his breath warm on your neck. He gives a discreet little point towards the thermos. You stifle a chuckle behind your papers. As Jade pulls away, he looks awfully pleased.

“I mean,” the blonde Octavinelle student continues, “the guy’s a total creep! Who knows what would have happened if I drank that potion; would’ve seen me walking around with a third arm or gills. My housewarden and vice are two peas in a pod: complete and utter monsters.”

Laughter blooms up from the table in agreement. Features wilting, you cannot find yourself agreeing with the student’s sentiment. Sure, you can see that description fitting Ashengrotto for how utterly horrendous and repulsive he was during his overblot. But Jade? Well, he is not innocent-incarnate but a monster is a bit much.

If Jade overblotted, would I share that sentiment? No, I don’t think so. You do not get to entertain that thought further as the Octavinelle student, who is not blonde, pipes up in agreement, “At least Azul has some humanity about him … Jade?” The student fakes a shiver. “Wouldn’t be caught dead alone with him.”

Eagerly finishing off his second sip, the blonde Octavinelle student jumps to add his input, “Have you seen how he looks smiling – it’s like a rabid animal trying to appear less rabid. If you’re going to undergo a transformation potion, at least have it do the job.”

“He’s only got himself to blame for having zero friends, looking like that.”

The hand in yours suddenly squeezes at those words. Concerned, your gaze flickers up to Jade. For a foolish second, you really are expecting his face to pull into that familiar grin of shark daggers. Prideful that his reputation is kept so neatly and undamaged.

A scowl is not what you are expecting to see. His nose and upper lip twitch like he is pushing whatever is bubbling to the surface of him back down. Just as quickly as the twitch happens, it goes. A firm lid now placed over Jade’s expression, he turns demure to you and politely says, “Shall we take our leave?”

You can only nod along, confused over the whole ordeal.

You and Jade have this thing going on – no, it is not the potion contract; it is actually something that happens specifically outside of contractual hours. You both have started to smile at one another when spying the other walking down the hallway. To be honest, Jade smiles, you mostly stick your tongue out at him or throw him a peace sign depending on your mood.

The thing is Jade’s grin has always been big, revealing all his predatory teeth and causing wrinkles to form under his eyes. The next time around, passing by one another near the gymnasium, Jade smiles. He smiles tight-lipped, some subdued version of himself.

IV. No mistakes were in the mixture, but it had been splashed on you all the same.

“Grim!” You caterwaul as two bottles of salamander eyes fall into your cauldron.

Ace has been teasing Grim for the better half of this assignment. Something about your low stash of food or something else because really, anything about you two is fuel for teasing. The verbal sparring mattered little to you as you were managing to get this potion right for once! At least, it mattered little until Grim decided to hop over the desk attached to your cauldron.

Down, those two bottles drop into the cauldron with an expressive ploop!; liquid hits you in the backsplash. All you can think about at that moment is what you are going to owe Professor Crewel. You refuse to be scavenging the mountains for salamanders to pluck the eyes out of.

Furious and with canary yellow droplets rolling down your face, you reach across the top of the cauldron. Your fingers hook into Grim’s collar, pulling him towards you as the fireball he was going to strike Ace with evaporates on his tongue.

“Myah!”

“You little –”

“What’s your problem, Henchman!”

“My problem is that you just messed up the first potion we’ve ever done correctly in this class! How could you be so careless! Do you have any idea what it took to pull my weight and make that without a mistake!”

When Grim refutes that Ace called his legs stubby, you swear you could almost combust into flames like the King of the Underworld. It would be a fitting reaction. Yet, all you can do is shout, “Your legs are stubby! You’re short! God, your height being teased should not cause you ruin a perfectly made potion. We are a team; this comes out of your grade too you know! Seriously Grim, I can’t –” And then, you cannot even shout anymore in reaction.

I can’t breathe, you realize with wide-eyed panic just before your legs give out beneath you. “Henchman!” You manage to safely deposit Grim on the ground in midst of your rough fall. However, it does not curb your impending face-plant away.

Why can’t I breathe, you think. You try desperately to will yourself to breathe automatically through your nose or mouth, eagerly willing to take up the torch for your stressed brain. Nothing. Instinctively, your hand flies up to your throat. Under your fingertips, serrations that open in twelve inch wide cuts brush against your hand. You feel rubbery bristles and sleek skin not wet from blood.

Huh? You do not get to ask about it as a spell suddenly lifts you off the ground. Second later, you are dumped inside an empty cauldron Deuce has summoned in the midst of discord and you are dampened by the raincloud Professor Crewel has summoned over your head.

Fresh air, you think while breathing in water. You are knocked out momentary reprise, your new found respect for life after being able to breathe again, when voices suddenly start shouting.

“(Name), are you okay!”

Over your right shoulder, your vision is swallowed by Deuce’s frantic expression. Half of his goggles are pulled up to his forehead but the left side still suctions to his skin, extending up his eyebrow unnaturally. Quizzically frantic, his eyes race over your body.

“I’m fine now, I think –”

“Bad dogs!” You do not finish the sentence. Professor Crewel uses some sort of spell and you watch vindictive as Ace’s and Grim’s heads are pulled together by harsh magnetism. They fall to a heap like knocked over bowling pins. “This is a laboratory! Not a playground! To be standing on desks like that is completely unacceptable!”

“Grim was the one jumping around; he ended up knocking over everything!” Ace jabs a finger in the direction of the dizzy dire-beast.

“He called me stubby! No one insults the Great Grim and gets away with it!” Grim aims a tiny, blue flame in the direction of the Heartslabyul student. A tiny one is only a forewarning of more to follow.

“Enough the both of you! Your absolute foolishness lead to —

“Ow,” you cry, pained. You had only meant to join in on scolding Grim, not interrupt in such a piercing fashion. Wincing, your dominant hand flies up to your mouth. Strings of metallic red connect your finger to your lip, and you wonder what you are going to do now as the rain washes away the red.

Because that potion you were brewing correctly … “You dogs and your insolence led to one of your classmates becoming a merfolk.” … was a mermaid transportation potion.

Now that panic has dwindled away, you suppose it makes sense your momentary lapse of breath. The rain cloud slowly dissipates over your head. With the water in the cauldron reaching the top, there is no more reason to keep it raining indoors. You take the opportunity to survey the damage of another disastrous potion accident.

The complexion of your tail is a mixture of olive gray with yellow undertones. Truly, you are not sure how to describe the texture of the canvas besides resembling a stingray or perhaps a shark. Your tail breaks off into the shape of an uneven boomerang. Against the rough cauldron’s innards, you definitely feel a dorsal fin scraping on the cast iron.

The crowns of your teeth have elongated into sharp points which is why you keep your jaw hanging open. You are not going to risk biting off your tongue, unaware that magic could repair it.

“Henchman, you have teeth just like me!”

Oh, you love Grim dearly like an annoying little brother, but you yearn for nothing more than to bite him hard. Painful enough where he learns his lesson. Your lips pull up into a smile when Professor Crewel hits him on the head. Then, you drop your open maw into a crude caricature of a frown when Crewel turns around. You don’t want him to misread your smile; you promise you are not finding this situation funny.

Because, to you, this is the worst. Your legs – your tail – no, your legs feel disgusting. So conditioned to have two separate legs, the innard combination of muscles and bones melting together causes a shiver up your back. Absent of piggy-toes to wiggle, lower limb bones suddenly hollowed out of you, fat and epidermis shifted into something supernatural. Get me out of this body!

Your pyramiding nausea must be shown on your expression; Professor Crewel gives you a sympathetic look for someone you thought so apathetic. He surveys you before saying, “It will take until after school for me to have the reversal potion brewed. Even then, I cannot keep you in the laboratory.

“Usually, I would pin the responsibility on you two mutts,” he sends a glare at Grim and Ace, “but then I would risk endangering the Prefect further. Perfect.” You grow more very nauseous because you know where this is going. “I think it would be ideal if you stay in Octavinelle for the time being.”

You must be an edible species of mermaid right? Maybe, with enough begging, you could convince Deuce or Grim to set a fire underneath the impromptu aquarium tank you sit in. “Ashengrotto can escort you. My 2C class is next period.”

You can’t even drown yourself; a whimper breaks your lips. In a kiss that is more a punch, your forehead and the side of the cauldron met like two angry lovers. “Just cook and eat me,” you moan sullenly.

“Yay, sushi!”

“Grim!!” Deuce shouts, mortified.

When Azul does come in next period, five minutes before the bell like the attentive student he is, you glare at him over the side of your cauldron. It takes all but seconds before his stunned expression to melt into that sinister, scheming smirk. He really is such a snake even after his overblot. You would normally say this little favor is going to cost you an arm and a leg, but you already lost two legs. No way are you parting with an arm.

“My, it seems you have gotten yourself into an unfortunately tight spot, Prefect. I’ll be happy to write up a contract that alleviates you from this certain predicament.”

Now, it takes luck and hard coordination, but you manage to splash Azul just as he finishes his sentence. It feels like stretching out a knot in your leg when you use your tail to propel water out of your cauldron.

As Azul simmers in shock, you snicker in satisfaction. Serves him right.

Soon enough, you are brought to Octavinelle. Hypothetically, it would take Azul two days to finish a reversal potion, which is better than most students who would need five days. But since Professor Crewel is working to ‘alleviate you from this certain predicament’, there is no need for a contract. Thus, the housewarden carries your cauldron through the school with magic.

There are so many questions running through your head that you and Azul remain silent during the trip to the Hall of Mirrors. Are you going to get dumped outside in Octavinelle’s waters to fend for yourself, or are you going to be thrown into the pool left to starve? What can you even eat in this form? It is already so hard to talk with the fangs in your mouth. Blood stains your lips like lipstick. You are deathly afraid of biting off your own tongue.

This is the worst potion accident I’ve ever had, you sulk, chin on the edge of stone. You want an easy life like everyone else but destiny has deemed you a magnetic force for chaos. Like there is something sweet in your blood or on your skin that attracts misfortune to you.

No one else in your first year class had experienced either a multitude of potion mishaps or a multitude of overblotted students. There has to be something in you that causes misfortune to suction to you with eagerness.

It is only when Azul speaks, carrying you through the Hall of Mirrors, do you stop your petite mopeness session. “Now, Octavinelle’s pool is never emptied so it will take some time to arrange it to be closed for the day. As a housewarden, it won’t take more than an hour. In the meantime, you are going to have to swim outside the dorm.”

“You can’t just keep me in the cauldron? I figured you shove me in some broom closet.”

“Now, do you really think I'm so cruel?”

“I do.”

A scowl moves Azul’s lips. As he carts your cauldron through the mirror, violet sparks shimmering on the bottom like bugs drawn to a bowl of overripe fruit, he smiles cruelly, “Well, I’m glad to prove your expectations right.” Then, without any care, he vindictively dumps you out of the cauldron and into the mirror’s tensile surface.

“Asshat!” You manage to shout breathlessly before you find yourself on the other side of Octavinelle’s mirror.

The pressure of water is unfortunately reliving to the pressure of suffocation on your chest. In the cauldron, you felt mildly asthmatic. It is certainly easier to breathe now. Which you do, you take a deep breath and then into nebulous waters, you shout out your frustrations. “ugh … UUUGH! AAAAAGH!!” Left alone in the blue, you sink down and down like a stone with each of your thoughts.

Hollowed out the bones in your lower limbs and trapped in skin made of dermal denticles, you eventually force yourself to learn to walk.

It takes a great deal of try and fail, rinsing and repeating the process. Stubbornly, you refuse to just lie at the bottom of Octavinelle’s water to die and join a whale’s skeleton … or just wait until Azul comes to retrieve you, fake sympathy on his tongue … the mere notion of the latter causes your teeth to grind.

Thankfully, the waters are empty of any merfolk. A dagger named Embarrassment would have punctured your heart if otherwise. Having your multiple face-plants into sand and multiple collisions with reefs being seen by a single spectator makes you grimace. Eventually, you learn to use the yellowish-gray tail with the dexterity found in a squirmy newborn.

An average person would have taken longer than an hour to learn the motions. You take to it like a duck to water. Impressively, it takes you only twenty-five minutes. Of course, you are arrogant of this fact. Limbs bruised from the rocks you have crashed into and mouth salted with the sand you accidentally swallowed, you sulk. Terribly miserable at the bottom of the sea, thinking yourself the biggest fool in Twisted Wonderland, you sulk at your falsely perceived failures but keep at it.

Moving with a tail mimics the sensation of sprinting. It is a constant motion that you must fall into smoothly. Once you start, you cannot risk a slight falter because that will send you barreling back to the ground. You must be confident about your motions.

Tail oscillating back and forth, you push yourself off the seafloor for hopefully your last time. You wade gently off the seafloor like a bumpy airplane hopping off the runway. And then finally something happens in your abdomen and in your legs. Finally! Finally, you manage to find your rhythm.

As if pulled there by an invisible thread, you find yourself swimming over to Octavinelle. Unconfident about your agility, you keep to the eastern side of the dorm, away from the towering spirals that look like a homunculus birth between a crab hand and an octopus, and you keep yourself away from the main building, wary of what could happen if you interact with other students.

You wrap yourself around stone structures shaped like pointy fish-heads. Glide up the natural pattern of stairs made of the seabed floor, testing your ability to elevate yourself. Brush your hand briefly over a certain gray stone shaped oddly like a circle head with two circular ears, reminding yourself of that mouse creature you saw in the mirror days ago. Then, you turn yourself on your spine, belly up, and propel yourself towards the tunnel in Octavinelle with experience that grows second by second.

The ‘skies’ are filled with starfishes suctioned to the edges of purple-gray arching stone, a school of moonfish with shining silver bodies with the edges of their fins kissed by orange sunshine hues, and moon jellyfish that move hypnotically like a multiple aliens made of clouds of milky-coral intestines. How phantasmal and pretty.

Despite being in another world full of alien creatures like beastmen, mermen, and fae, at least the ocean has not changed that much. Now, impromptu and unplanned, you are thrown into the chance of a lifetime. Despite yourself, a smile grows on your lips.

Flipping yourself belly down, you glide over the tunnel system. It is a sectional hallway of Octavinelle that goes from the main building towards the dormitories. The unique faucet about the long hallway with the overarching ceiling is that the ceiling is made of glass.

You meant to swim over the glass structure but you stutter in your motions when you make eye contact with a certain someone walking down the hallway. Even when separated by a barrier, that mountain landscape of smiling fangs manages to send a shiver down your spine. Why is that asshat’s eyes half-lidded like that?

Regaining yourself, you swim fast inches above the tunnel and ignore Jade Leech who watches you fondly in Octavinelle’s aquarium hallway, a few school books in his hand. You come to regret it later because:

“You broke contract terms earlier,” is the first blasted thing out of Jade’s mouth when he enters Octavinelle’s pools just as Azul exits.

“How so,” you grumble. After his classes, Azul retrieved you from Octavinelle waters with all the grace of a dog owner picking up their mutt from a park after hours of neglect. He leashed you with a spell and dropped you into Octavinelle pools. Now, lying on your back, you glide aimlessly in water like an adrift pool-float.

Didn’t matter where you were though as you knew Jade would come find you. But – “Earlier, when we made eye contact through the tunnel, you swam away like a shy clownfish.” – seems you forgot how rigorous people in this specific dorm were about terms.

Mouth opening to defend yourself (more correctly, lie and say you did not know how to stop), a certain tantalizing scent catches your attention. Flipping yourself upright, you glance towards the edge of the pool when Jade stands on the steps, ankle deep with his pants rolled up and footwear off. In his hands are two steaming plates.

“Oh thank God, I’m starved,” you say, swimming over.

Yet Jade chuckles, “Food is for well-behaved fish who uphold their contract terms.”

“Oh God,” you groan. “Listen, I didn’t know how to stop.” A lie but you tack on, “And it’s not my fault I wasn’t with you. Azul dumped me into Octavinelle. He pushed me in there like a bird kicking her chick out of the nest.”

“Still, I would have come to retrieve you had you not darted away. Did I perhaps frighten you?”

“Jade, just tell me what you want to hear and I’ll say it. I’m starving.” You had not realized how famished your new body had grown in such a short time. Swimming is a rigorous exercise but you never thought it would hollow out your stomach so thoroughly.

“My, what an opportunistic sentence. Anything I want you to say … just like that? Sevens, which of the hundred self-deprecating phrases could I move your tongue into?” The smile he aims at you is a perfect mimic of some villainous character reveling in the downfall of a hero.

“You’re a pain in my ass, Jade. You know that? A real thorn in my side.”

“A leech on your ankle?”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

“Of course. Any self-respecting person should be able scrutinize and recognize who they are in the eyes of those on the outside looking in.”

“Then you must know I see you as a real asshole for not feeding me.”

You hold up your hand to accept the plate. At the end of this verbal maze, you will be rewarded with food. Like a mouse who is eventually given cheese after all those twists and turns. However, you do not expect his next sentence:

“You’re hurt.”

Are those the words you must repeat? “I’m hurt?”

Jade shakes his head at you. You watch in surprise as he sits on the edge of the pool, leaving his ankles in the water. You have never seen him look so casual in his dorm uniform. Sure everything is tightly buttoned and hastened in place, yet there is an air of permissiveness around him. “Your arm,” Jade clears up confusion as he sets the plates down.

When you check the appendage, Jade’s words are proven right. A mark that is sure to turn violet and black runs across your forearm. Must have happened when you were trying to learn how to swim, bumped too hard into a coral reef perhaps.

“Oh damn, that is going to ache tomorrow.” Hissing through your fangs, “Shit.”

Jade hums in consideration. “Give it here.” He gestures to your arm.

After a moment’s hesitation, you extend your forearm so it rests in Jade’s hands. You expect him to dig his nails into the area, to test what will make you wince. However, he just carefully maneuvers it in his hold, mapping out the bruise’s perimeter with his eyes. Then, he unclips his magic pen from his breast-pocket.

You rest your head on your shoulder, peering up at Jade with tired eyes. Violet light orchestrates a ballet across his feature, dipping and pirouetting on each sharp curve. It reminds you of how he fought in the violet drenched nightmare of Schoenheit’s overblot to keep you safe.

As the perimeter of your bruise shrinks, you realize something and have to force down a twitch.

Oh.

Oh!

Juxtaposingly, it seems so natural and it seems so artificial. You have feelings for Jade Leech?

‘Please, be serious’ you want to chastise yourself. However, it feels like something that has grown inside your heart naturally. However, it too feels like it was something born of blasphemous methods that would offend Mother Nature. Perhaps that is your own hesitation to admit to having a crush.

Bruise completely gone, lavender light falls away from his face. “There we go.” He looks up from your arm to your body. Seemingly, his eyes flirt about to assess whether there is any more mark from your old, faithful friend Danger you have inevitably fallen into. Does he think you are a failure? The thought makes you sick. You don’t want Jade to ever think that about you.

As you take back your arm from his lap, curling and twisting it experimentally, you thank him. He responds,“It’s no trouble at all. I uphold contract terms … unlike others.”

“Oh, climb off it.”

When you enunciate your sharp ‘t’, Jade’s eyes are magnetized down to the rows of razor daggers in your mouth. If Jade Leech could look stunned, you think this is the closest you have ever seen him do so. A subdued version of the facial expression.

“What,” you ask. “Something on my face?”

“No, no,” Jade smiles like it is nothing. He picks up the plates previously set aside. He balances each like a veteran waiter, showing you the beef wellington he has cooked for you two. It is paired with a brown sauce underneath the pastry. “I’m glad to see that my preparation was prudent to all the changes the potion did.”

“You aren’t going to change into your mer-form? Show me how to eat and swim correctly so I don’t injure myself?”

“Now, I don’t want to be too honest with you.” You simply swipe your plate, because God, an honest Jade Leech is scarier than a dishonest one.

When you head out of Ramshackle the next day, waving goodbye to the ghosts and dire-beast on your shoulder, you come to an unexpected stop on the rickety porch. “Huh, what’s that,” Grim asks as you lean down to pick up the two mysterious jars. Underneath glass, a hundred or so slimy salamander eyes peer at you. And you suddenly recall what you had bemoaned to Jade, Crewel’s going to have my head if I can’t replace his supplies.

Around the neck of each jar, a periwinkle bow has been tied with expert care. You know which dorm that color signifies. For the first in a long time, you walk the hour trek from Ramshackle to Night Raven College feeling light like a feather.

V. Lilies were selected and arrogantly substituted for asphodels.

“So, how did this come to be again,” Jade asks … just for clarification.

Even though it was Grim who grabbed the lilies, it can still be attributed as your fault. If you were in the right mind to speak, you would blame yourself. For one, you used poor judgment to trust Grim would be able to handle selecting ingredients. Secondly, when handed the lilies, you did not check if they were the shape of asphodels. In your vocal absence, Grim clarifies to Jade, “My Henchman messed up the potion!”

“You little weasel!” Adding injury to his insult, Ace whacks the back of Grim’s head.

“Ow!” Grim cries on Deuce’s shoulder. “Well, they did! Myah, it's not my fault they put it in.”

“You’re the one that picked out the wrong flower, so you’re ultimately at fault,” Deuce sighs. Turning back to Jade, the freshman laments, “Though, we’re not quite sure how one little flower could cause such a big difference. Or when it’s going to wear off.”

With the last sentence said, Deuce sends a wary glance to you. All of them know about the contractual agreement between you and Jade. Obligations stitch you two side by side until the effects of a botched potion wears off. However, he thinks this time should be the expectation.

“I hope it never wears off,” Ace snickers, undeterred by the glare of Deuce and Jade.

Originally, none of them knew if the potion was working wrongly, which is quite ironic. Working wrongly … ah, what an odd way to put it. But, when Professor Crewel dipped the rectangular slip of perfume-testing paper into your cauldron and it came back a neon pink instead of a dull orange, you knew you had to make the venture to find Jade Leech.

Even if I breathed in just a sniff, I have to do this, you griped when your trio asked why you were even heading in the direction of Octavinelle. Sadly, it is an obligation. Your contract has you and Jade spending a large amount of time together.

Out of all the mishaps, this one crept on you silently. Without any forewarning and without any subtlety. One minute you were standing idle by the Mostro Lounge’s entrance and then, Deuce cringes at the memory, you were like this.

“Jade, can I have another kiss pleaseee?”

Clinging like an eel with captured prey, your arms are wrapped tightly around Jade’s waistline. He cannot seem to pry you off. In honey-laced tones, you bat your eyelashes prettily up at Jade as you ask for your second kiss from him. Hopefully this one will be reciprocated.

As if the entrance to Mostro Lounge was enchanted with a changeling circle, something shifted in you when you saw Jade. In the crowd of waiters and customers, you found Jade working. Your pupils dilated; your breath hitched; Cupid’s arrow pierced into the cotton-candy red of your beating heart. At the sound of a flustered breath, the trio only got a second to view your visage – a magical cocoon of lovestruck emotions wrapping around you – before you run up to Jade, calling his name in phony passion.

The first kiss you stole, lip to lip, when you two collided in greeting. The look of disbelief on Jade’s face had Ace sputtering with laughter.

Deuce was quick to explain everything before Jade … Well, it was difficult for Deuce to tell what Jade was even thinking, or perhaps plotting. He cannot stomach hypothesizing upon the torment you might be subjected to because of how you are acting. Would Jade feed you poisonous mushrooms for all your non-consensual actions – non-consensual on both parts, you hardly seem right in the head.

For your sake, Deuce hopes Jade goes easy on you. Speaking of the eel-mer.

In response to your amorous inquiry, Jade tilts his head to look down at you. His eyes are unreadable shields. Though his voice has a tint of minacious teasing in it, “Perhaps we should find another activity for you to take part in? Dishwashing perhaps?”

Grim makes a whine at the memory of dishwashing months ago. Deuce breathes a sigh of relief, dish-washing duty is a low price to pay. It seems Jade might actually be merciful to your unfortunate soul.

“I’d get down and dirty with you in some bubbles.”

Deuce’s face pinches in worry.

“HAHAHA!” Ace full blown cackles, holding onto his stomach. “Oh, this is great!” He exclaims, sneering at both you and Jade.

That passive mien on Jade’s face has not even dimmed once at your prevetish intents. Polite disinterest is a mask welded firm to his visage. “My, what a crude innuendo. I must inform you, Mostro Lounge is rather firm on its policy on keeping professional conduct.”

You frown at this sentiment. One could even call you distraught over it. But then something sparks in your lovestruck brain, and you lean harder into Jade like you are trying to fuse yourself to his skin. “Well, is there anything else in Mostro Lounge that is fir–umph?” Jade’s hand covers your mouth swiftly.

You waste no time, pressing a kiss to the glove and staring up at him with half-lidded eyes.

Composure not slipping for a second, Jade turns to your friends who look on with expressions ranging from horrified to amused. Ah, Isn’t amusement most gratifying when found in the horrifying … Jade thinks so wholeheartedly. With a slight incline of his head, the vice-housewarden says, “As per our contract, I’ll take (Name) for the time being. You three are welcome to stay and enjoy our new spring menu.”

Your friends give various grumbles as Jade guides you away. Deuce even yells out a quick, stay safe, which makes sense when one is in the presence of a predator. However, your entire body is lax and void of tension. You follow after Jade, looking like you would follow him to the ends of the earth.

It is world-altering, tray slipping and dropping glassware type of world-altering, accidentally burning their hand on a hotplate type of world-altering to the staff of Mostro Lounge to see their second boss (and to some their own vice-housewarden) walk arm in arm with the Ramshackle Prefect. The rumors will infect the school for at least a whole semester. Yet despite the obvious euphoria flowing out of the Ramshackle Prefect as they cuddle up to Jade Leech, the side profile of the eel-mer is frozen in polite apathy.

His cheeks aren’t even pink when the Prefect presses close to him. And you are attractive to have a few admirers who would enjoy having you cling to them. Courteous, Jade opens the VIP room up to you, but you drag him in, refusing to be separated from him for a moment.

When the door clicks shut – thankfully Azul happens to be either in the kitchen or on the floor – with you pulling Jade’s hand and stumbling backwards towards the couch like it is a bed and you two are on your honeymoon, Jade’s stone composure fractures. It all comes spilling from him like an ocean free from the hold of a petite water bottle.

“Fu-Fuck (Name),” his voice trembles against his unoccupied gloved hand. Jade’s skin hue rockets from pale to pink to a red that makes him seem like he is overheating. Resolve wavering, Jade allows himself to be magnetized down to the couch.

In the sweetest voice that would put sirens to shame, you croon in his ear, “Jade; my lovely Jade; my strong Jade; mine, mine, mine.” You start to press deliberate kisses over his neck, seeing how much resistance his bowtie is going to give to your ministrations.

Jade is on his knees for you. His hands may be planted by your shoulders, but his lower body is completely off the couch. Amorously, you wrap legs around a slim waist and wrap hands around a forest of teal locks. He won’t kiss you back; he cannot find it in himself to, not when you are under a potion’s effect at least. However, he moves his head to an angle like a pleased cat to allow the kisses you litter on his neck.

“Take this off. Jade, off.” Vexful, your fingers pry at the bowtie fastened properly to his uniform. The white article is unapologetically firm against your inexperienced tugs. “Please.”

Something alive wiggles in Jade’s stomach like a spiral. Air crackles with a snap of fabric; the speed Jade rips his necktie off is intense. He undoes his silly bowtie with the eagerness of a highly anticipated Christmas present – good; because, under this potion, you are so eager too.

“(Name), you’re so …” He stops himself, not knowing whether you will remember this later.

As kisses burn his skin, Jade hopes he never scares you off. During Idia’s overblot, he had been so selective with how he fought to protect you – not wanting to mimic the ugliness you say you found in people who overblot. You, with a magic broom in hand, had asked him to abandon his post as vice-housewarden to help you find Grim; he would have abandoned his entire education for you like how the Mermaid Princess abandoned the sea all those centuries ago.

That train of thought is so dangerous though.Your friendship is so incredibly dear to him. Jade wants to take it slow.

Human courtship works in such mysterious ways that he sometimes feels like a failure at the methods and execution on his end of things. If he were to be truthful with you, pull back the floorboards of his facade to show you the concert of lovebugs thudding in their moshpit underneath … ah, he hopes so passionately to never scare you off.

As two of his dress-shirt buttons are undone, Jade leans his cheek against your temple. Like an efficient undertaker, he will bury himself under pleasantries to make himself appear more human and subdued. Even in dishonesty, he will love you honestly.

Your teeth are dull. His are not.

Said teeth burrow themselves into the juncture of his neck. Groaning, Jade is ashamed to feel his toes curl in his socks at the bite of such a prey. Sevens, he is stronger than this.

With spit and teeth, you start to suckle and break the blood vessels in his skin like they are merely thin glow-sticks. He feels each thread of his self control break with them. Serrations from his clenching hands are made in the VIP couch as Jade lets you paint a hickey on his neck.

The violet in his future bruise is sure to make a perfect matching garish for the color scheme of his dorm uniform.

You take exceptional care to hold your protector gently in your hands as you bite like a rabid animal. Like squishy dough, his skin rounds itself up and into the empty space of your mouth. It is a warm sensation that causes even his knuckles to tingle with the blooming heat.

“(Name)?” Your name falls husky out of Jade’s mouth. He did not think his vocal cords could wither to something unprofessional. “Uuh,” he moans from the sarcophagi of his throat when you chomp harder.

“So beautiful, so gorgeous, so … so Jade.” You punctuate these sentiments with pecks that move up to his cheek. When you say the last one, you cradle the left side of his face in your hand. You press your lips to his cheek as if trying to fuse with him.

He kills sentimentality from his voice thoroughly, but Jade has to know, “So Jade? Is that good?”

“It’s perfect.”

Jade drops you off at Ramshackle when your body slips into sleep. When he arrives at his dorm, he lands hard, supine on his mattress. Floyd glances up from his phone, not used to seeing Jade lie in bed so haphazardous without doing his whole routine. Lying in bed, the eel-mer takes his finger to press on the growing bruise on his neck – your own personal attack on him.

“I just had the best day of my life,” Jade muses. A smile wide and wicked blooms on his face as he looks at the ceiling. It only disappears when a pillow is thrown at him.

Reversed I. Jade rarely makes mistakes, but he had forgotten which came first: the live, squawking chicken begging to not be killed or the still, docile egg which could not voice the same plea, begging to not be killed.

Walking out Crewel’s class, having just aced a potion with your lab partner Ace (no pun intended), your eyes expand in surprise when you see one of Octavinelle twins stalking on the opposite wall. Grim bristles in your arm cradle and Adeuce falls silent in their conversation. Tension paints the air. Especially when said twin says:

“Ya breakin’ contract terms, Shrimpy. Can’t believe I gotta do the chase-and-catch act with ya.” His bored look morphs into a smile. “Though Shrimpy’s probably super fun to squeeze. Too bad Jade won’t let me.” His look morphs right back into boredom at his last sentence.

Whiplashed by his chameleon-ing expressions, you stand there numb. His words also make you pause because as far as you are concerned, you are not breaking any terms. The potion you just made went off without a hitch. Bsides, if it went wrong, you would be heading to Octavinelle, obedient to your terms.

“How am I breaking the terms? I haven’t messed up a potion since …” Since that time you were acting like a spellbound lovestruck fool, “since you know.”

You trail off. All you know about the last incident comes secondhand from your trio, having woken up in Ramshackle the day after with no recollection of the events. Stricken by only the prologue of a story you do not know, you went about classes in Night Raven College with a lingering sense of uneasiness for two weeks. You think to yourself, Jade must be livid, and start anticipating his revenge at any time. Yet, in the interlude of this horridly put together fantasy comedy that you have been thrown into, teal hair and sharp teeth never make an appearance until now.

… And the appearance is flipped like a mirror and yawning out, “Uuuh, yeah ya did. If one of you messes up a potion, you guys gotta be with each other.”

“But I haven’t messed up –”

Grim leaps out of your arms when you are grabbed but you do not have the luck to make your own escape.

Floyd ignores your words. “So, ya get to come with me, lil Shrimp,” he exclaims with a happy lilt, pulling you hard by the forearm. How the hell does a guy of his stature have the strength of a bodybuilder! “Tired of Jade being all boring and not comin’ to find ya. So, I thought I helped!”

“Oh, no, Floyd, that’s not our contract terms. The terms are –” You are cut off abruptly.

“Ya callin’ me a liar, Shrimpy?”

“EEK!”

The face in front of you – that leans down and covers you in a heavy shadow – is reserved for breakers of Azul’s contracts and those who have messed up majorly in Floyd’s book. Unbeknownst to you, you are the breaker of Jade’s sensitive little heart – he has been bemoaning how he probably scared you away two weeks ago, much to Floyd’s annoyance – and that means you have majorly, in behemoth portions, messed up in Floyd's book.

Staring into those pin-prick eyes and open mouth leer, you almost feel your bladder go slack in fear. With how nice, although a bit devious, Jade expressions have been around you, seeing this twisted version of those features makes you shudder. Don’t forget how vulnerable you are, it warns.

Luckily, there are three glorious idiots in this world that love you dearly. So, when one of them goes, “Hey, my Henchman ain’t no liar, liar!” you relax just a bit. Though Grim’s bravery quickly vanishes with a squealing EEK! when Floyd looks over your shoulder to make eye contact with him.

“Now, you’re someone I can squeeze, Sealy. Don’t get so noisy, ‘kay?” Those hostile eyes land back on you. “Don’t make me drag ya, ‘kay?”

“Hey, you can’t just talk to them like that!” Deuce defends.

“Ya tellin’ me what to do, Little Mackerel? I can talk to anyone however I want.”

“No, you can’t –”

“You can talk to me like that!”

Everyone, even you turn your own head, stares at Ace with wide-eyed expressions. “Hey! Sue me for having self preservation. I for one wouldn’t make such a stupid deal.”

Bristling, you bite back, “I literally devised a plan to save you from a deal with Azul months ago, asshat.”

“That was Azul; not one of the twins. ‘Sides, I’m sure Jade is so eager to see his little boyfriend/girlfriend again. Probably needs another kiss,” Ace teases with a shit-eating grin.

Your eyes go small in anger, a poor rendition of Floyd’s but still powerful. For these past two weeks, Ace has been referring to you as Jade’s partner and been hinting at more below-the-belt activities. Who knows what could have happened in Octavinelle, you and him all alone for a full day, he teases for the duration of fourteen days, hands steepled in mischief. Just as you open your mouth, ready to rip Ace a new one, you are lifted off the ground like a mere household pet.

“See! Crabby gets it!” You wrestle and twist in Floyd’s tight hold. “Ya both just need to kiss it out!”

“I think the phrase is talk it out,” Deuce adds helplessly as you dragged off by a 6’1” eel, screaming:

“Ace. Ace! When I get my hands on you! ACE!”

Thus, you are once more brought to Octavinelle against your will. Instead of being cradled by a cauldron full of water and Azul’s magic, you are held tentatively in Floyd’s arms as you wiggle and thrust in hopes to escape. He does not break your ribs or your arms luckily. You whack Floyd with all your might the entire way.

Heels dragging across linoleum, you watch the ground move under you like an escalator. Floyd is still effortlessly dragging you, much like a body-bag. Already, you have tried to bargain with Floyd on getting your tedious freedom. Offering up pieces of candy you have in your pocket, labor you could perhaps do in the Lounge; offering up one day to ransack Ramshackle of any objects he wants, labor you could perhaps do by helping him complete parkour tricks or basketball.

His mouth twists in contemplation when you offer to let him use the rocky, uneven terrain of Ramshackle’s backyard. Offer it for what? To Floyd for free-use to test ride for his new Blastcycle. You thank your very low population of lucky stars that Jade mentioned offhandedly Floyd was planning to join one trip of the Mountain Lovers Club to test the motorcycle on new environments for tricks.

You can deal with another deal with an eel! As long as you can avoid seeing the eel you were trying and probably failing to seduce due to a botched potion! Thinking you have Floyd hook-line-and-sinker, you completely stop struggling.

Until he hums, “Naaaaah!” and you two are jumping through Octavinelle’s mirror in the Hall of Mirrors. If the world has decided to give all its troubles to one person, the world has picked you from the pile. A part of you hates how much this cursed, twisted world has knocked you down repeatedly.

When the bubble pops, Floyd finally lets you walk with him. Though the arm looped around your shoulder feels more like a pillory than a friendly gesture. Devil-toothed, he smiles at you and says, “Sooo you and Jade, huh?”

“Huh!” You shout indignant.

“Hey, it’s cool. I approve so no sweat. Just unexpected ‘cus I thought this was just an experiment for Jade; then he got serious so I was thinkin’ wooow, weird, ya know?”

Confused, you just blink at Floyd’s words. This contractual agreement between you and Jade is more cat hunting the mouse then cat watching the mouse navigate a maze. It has a very hands-on experiment with you as the main test subject. But serious; why would it be more or less serious now?

The smile drops off Floyd’s face. “No way you’re this dumb, Shrimpy. I know ya suck at potionology but c’mon.”

“I just don’t understand what you mean by serious.”

“Sevens, you two would be pinin’ till your fourth year without me.”

“Pining?” … That involves your feelings being mutual? Jade doesn’t – “EEK!”

Floyd’s eyes go back to that pin-prick size again. He even halts both of your walk towards his and Jade’s dorm. Without your trio here, you sincerely doubt how much Floyd is going to uphold his decision not to squeeze you. Instead, he just throws back his head and groans. “He owes me a month worth of pickin’ up my shifts after this.”

You have numerous questions on what Floyd is alluding to but you are suddenly pushed into a more brisk walk. Floyd’s hand steers you. “‘Kay, I’ll give ya the rundown so ya don’t act like an idiot. Jade messed up a potion. And, your guys’ contract says you have to be around each other when that happens.” Incorrect but you let him continue.

“Jade … ya know him, Jade, my brother? Well, he’s the secretive typa-guy. Has a hard time lettin’ people get close. Mama calls him super shy. But, you, got to go hikin’ with him, see our dorm, and even eat a meal with him. Jade doesn’t do that with just anyone.”

Even though there is no botched potion ingested right now, you feel something fluttering around your stomach like a bubbling elixir at Floyd’s words. He continues, “And, right now, my oh-so-tight-lipped brother is under a truth serum potion.”

The world stops. One, because you come to the world-halting epiphany that you have been seeing a side of Jade that no one other than Floyd and Azul might be privy to view it. Two, because Floyd stops steering you in the direction of the dorm due to arriving at the very designation. The guy who keeps his real thoughts tucked behind layers upon layers of purple prose is under a truth serum; the guy who would rather shrivel up like a beached fish than reveal his heart is under a truth serum; the guy whose Unique Magic forces people to tell the truth is under a truth serum. The irony is not lost on you, and thus the world stops.

“Jade’s under a –?”

“Yeah,” Floyd laughs, tickled pink with amusement.

In sync, you both glance at the dorm’s door like it is a monolith dropped out of the skies. Who knows what might be held inside it? Venturing in might reveal some eldritch secrets that primitive extraterrestrials hid away thousands of moons ago.

“You can go in there, ya know. Contract says it’s fine.”

A part of you wants to finally clear up the confusion between Floyd and yours and Jade’s contract. Yet, a bigger part of you, oh that part has to see what is behind Curtain Number One more than anything else. An honest Jade Leech is like finding life on Mars. Deluding yourself, you think: Well, the contract never outlined the terms for the other party being compromised by a potion sooo … You glance at Floyd.

“I don’t understand what you get out of this.”

“Hehe, entertainment.”

That tracks well enough that you do open the door.

Hand on the knob of the monolith, you glance into rather tenebrous darkness like looking under the bed for monsters. Behind you, Floyd flicks up the switch with his index. Light floods the room. On the bed to the right, Jade lies peacefully on his side, hugging a pillow.

“You’re gonna need to shake him awake. Jade sleeps reeeal deep.” Slack-jawed, you turn around with indignance on your tongue. As a mouse, you refuse to be sent in to poke a slumbering cat. Yet, Floyd has already departed without another word.

“Asshat,” you mumble at the closed door. It is completely unlocked and you know you could leave anytime but … well, let's just say Jade is not the only one who likes to lift up rocks and see what squirms underneath. Besides, you have contractual terms that keep you protected.

“Okay … okay.” You steel yourself in your resolve. Despite this, you tiptoe your way over to Jade’s bed, hyper aware of what floorboard looks like it could possibly make a creak. Floyd is not under a truth serum; he could be lying about Jade being a deep sleeper.

Jade looks quite innocent when asleep. It is probably the last adjective anyone would ever use to describe him but it is the bone deep truth. Facade and stress melted from his features, there is this alien beauty resting peacefully on pallid skin. His hair is a bit more unruly; teal wisps all still flow in the same direction but they separate more openly. It kind of looks like someone took a balloon to his head and rubbed until static engulfed it. Oh, and his nose is so cute when he has his cheek depressing down on a pillow like that.

Smile stolen, you blink once in surprise from your own thoughts, despite knowing they have become like that overtime. “Aaah forget about it,” you murmur.

Reaching over, you gently grasp Jade’s shoulder. You have had a question on your mind for a while. Quiet as a mouse, you urge, “Jade. Jade, wake up.”

Nothing. He is sound asleep like a rock. “Jade?” However hesitant, you still try to shake him a bit more forcefully. “Wake up, Jade.”

Ugh, this is getting you nowhere. Part of you thinks he is putting up another identity and pretending to be a deep sleeper. Jade is rarely truthful. He always speaks in rhymes and half-truths. For a simple potion to untangle his tongue so thoroughly wants you yearn to discover just a bit more about him.

In this uneasy friendship of mouse and cat, you have found yourself enjoying discovering the hidden, earnest parts of Jade Leech. It is an unexpected development.

Though, it stings that he only keeps you around for entertainment and abuse.

Cringing, you think you stumbled upon what will finally rouse him from his sleep. You lean down to his ear and lie, “Jade, I was wondering if you would feed me some of the new mushrooms from your hikes? Pretty please?”

Unamused, you watch Jade’s eyelashes serenely flutter open like he is Sleeping Beauty. Asshat. Groggily, a pair of eyes stare up at you in disbelief, probably anticipating his brother or his housewarden. But, those blissful words you said seem to have him arouse as he stretches from his bed like a rising cat.

“(Name)?” He asks, sitting up in bed. “What are you doing in my room?”

A sheepish hand travels up to cover your pulse. Leaning heavy on your right foot, you lie with a chuckle, “Ah, Floyd dragged me here. Said you were sick with a fever. I’m not sure how he expects me to help though, heh.”

You know you should not … but you want to play with this. A sadistic part of you wants to watch him squirm and wiggle. Under the guise of coming over to assist him with a fever, you can only imagine Jade will try to hide the fact he is under a truth serum.

“Ah, Floyd is mistaken. I am not sick.”

That response is unusually curt for Jade; it seems he is going to try to conceal this as long as possible. You cannot wait to stretch out his resistrant like it is a stringy ligament you are drawing and quartering until it snaps. “Oh, that’s just unusual because you are sleeping when you should be in class. Slacking off?”

“Yes, I should be in class.” Jade remains firm in his bed, giving you a polite smile. Additionally, he is firm in his resolve to not give up any information. Even under a botched potion, his self control is strong; you wonder if there is anything that could ever make him act out.

Once again ignorant, you do not know that answer is quite simply: you.

However, there is one question you have been burning and yearning to know. Coy, you ask, “Well, that’s no good. Skipping classes like that. Though, you know I was wondering …Did you put mushrooms in that beef wellington a few weeks ago?”

“Yes.”

Something in you snaps. “AH, I knew it! You asshat!” You raise a fist, throwing yourself at Jade. “That’s disgusting, Jade! A violation of friendship! Where was it!”

As Jade bats away your flying fists, he says without much resistance against the truth serum, “In the duxelles sauce.”

You punctuate each time you call him a donkey wearing a tophat with a hit to his shoulder. Stronger than you, as natural of your protector, Jade is able to evade your hits well. The ones that land he lets land. Yet, having had enough, Jade soon grabs your wrist and with a laugh says, “Fufufu, you are so utterly adorable with your instinct to hit things.”

Blank-faced, you blink at Jade. “... Adorable?” It is not a world altering sentence; you bet Jade finds the prey that skitter away from him back home in the Coral Sea pitifully adorable too. Still, the revelation is a bit of a shock to the heart.

“Well, not solely adorable. No, there is a whole library in my soul dedicated to describing you. There are moments when you are irresistible as –” Whatever poetry Jade was going to wax, he halts it by slamming a hand over his mouth, horrified. Your eyes lock in shared terror.

“Wh-what,” you stammer, pulling away from Jade.

He grabs you by your shoulders before you get too far. With desperation, he pulls you right back to him. Then, Jade appears stricken, dueling in his head whether he should force you to stay or allow you to leave. It is like both of you have stumbled upon something horrifying and left speechless. Speechless at least until Jade grits out, “I … I think you should go.”

Having the upperhand of remembering he is under a truth serum, you ask softly, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No. I ache when you leave. I wish I had the foresight to length out our contract terms, so I could see you more.” The sheets look like they could tear like paper mache under Jade’s grip. With wobbling lips, he forces a smile full of teeth onto his face. “Don’t you think this humiliation is quite enough?”

To be honest hypotheses have been forming in your head quite some time ago. However, after your last botched potion, embarrassment ate up your speculation on if Jade reciprocated what you felt growing in yourself over time. Now, variables are tipping in your favor. And he has been such a mean cat to you so …

You sit yourself on the edge of Jade’s bed; the first sadistic grin you have ever shown him blooms on your face. “Why, no, I hardly think I’ve done enough.” Leg now up on the mattress, you hook your arms around the body part and lean forward, teasing, “You’re never this honest with anyone, Jade.”

“Best to keep one’s cards close to the chest, don’t you agree? With the way you were acting last time we saw each other, it was like you fumbled the entire deck.”

Your left eye twitches. Cracks appearing in your confidence, you grit out, “Oh, did I? I actually don’t remember all that happened; perhaps you can enlighten me. How did it feel to be so … seduced?”

“I have never known such bliss … Really, (Name), this is painful for me.”

As sheets tear under Jade’s twisting fists, your confidence refuels itself. Being in control like this is exhilarating, you can see why Jade enjoys it so. His squirming is so cute! Smug, you purr, “Oooh I see~” You take in Jade’s grimace with satisfaction and ask, “So, me? Really? When did that start?”

“Since that day in the botanical gardens.”

Your smile drops. “Huh?” Slowly, the landscape of your flesh succumbs to geysering blood. Flustering heat rises and lives on each inch of your face. Because – “Ha … heh, huh?” – you started feeling something naturally after the potion incident where you were turned into a mer. To know his emotions have been kept classified, under lock-and-key for so long; it leaves you dizzy with a blush. Perhaps you aren’t fit for the role of the cat.

However, Jade misjudges your sudden silence for fear. He does not dare to reach out. “Please, don’t be afraid of me.”

“Jade?”

“The very thought that you could makes me sick.”

You take in Jade’s cumbersome words, speechless. They soak into you like blood to a sponge. Fragile and human, your eyelashes twitch over your eyes, jittery until you half-lid your vision. A charmed chuckle escapes your lips, “oh Jade.”

His skin is so smooth. Cradling his cheek in your metaphorical claws, you smile lovestruck without the love potion. His face starts to beam a light, delicate pink. Cute and delicate and innocent … These are things that Jade is not. But under your warped vision, and through countless new experiments, you can squeeze him to fit the description.

“I could never be afraid of you. After all you’ve done for me … How you protected me? I don’t care about the teeth; I don’t care about the biology. I don’t need deep sea knowledge to know I like you … and I hope you like me too?”

You do not let him answer, fearful of the raw truth that could possibly be not what you want to hear, pressing a kiss to his lips.

His answer –the solution to the hypothesis – is given in his kiss.

#twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland #twst jade #lwk hate this but we UP‼️‼️

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cheri-2047 · 5 months ago

Note

a scenario where “they find out you’re pregnant after you break up” with alhaitham, ayato, alhaitham, diluc, wriothesley or just any of them?? 🙂‍↕️

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I haven’t started the inazuma quest so I don’t know much about ayato, this is completely based off on his voicelines so my bad.

as for Alhaitham diluc and wriothesley

THERE WILL BE AN ATTEMPT ! (I had hyper fixations on alhaitham and a lil bit on wriothesley)

I added LYNEY to the mix cause I need to see his x reader tag filled after days (it’s been less than 24 hours) of it not being filled

this will be mostly headcanons cause I’ve been losing motivation to write full fics lately 😔 I’m gen sorry

”You’re…pregnant?” With Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Ayato, Diluc, Lyney

TAGS: is pregnancy a tag 😭 it’s just y’all talking abt it 😭 alcohol (diluc)

CHARACTERS: haitham wriothesley, ayato, diluc, lyney.

MENTIONS OF: kaveh, sigewinne, kaeya, ayaka, Thoma, Lynette, freminet

ALHAITHAM:

you doorbell on his home, only to see…

kaveh.

”oh! It’s been awhile since you visited, uhh… he’s still at the akademya…would you like to wait or…”

kaveh lets you in and it’s up to you if you want to leave honestly. He’s aware you two broke up but decided not to pry into it anymore (to help both you and Alhaitham handle it on your own)

as you wait, you just watch him make his blueprints, he offers you drinks while you wait, but the moment the door opens kaveh packs up and leaves the room

“Alhaitham…?”

you called out for Alhaitham, as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“….”

he nods his head to acknowledge your presence.

“it’s been awhile.”

he sat across from you.

“why the sudden visit?”

“look, remember that night when we…. Um…”

“….what about it…?”

when you told him about it, he was speechless for awhile

”come again?”

you two sit in silence for awhile, both of you PRAYING that the other says something

”…what do YOU want?” He asks, wanting to know if you’ll keep the baby or not.

”I was hoping I could keep it… I just wanted to tell you since you know…”

he nods, he stands up and sits next to you.

He smiles, “would you be okay with raising them together?”

he was actually pretty happy that you wanted to keep the baby, both of you before you broke up wanted to have a family with each other. So he was still happy that you were still up to it

you nod

”I want us to try again” he says, while holding both your hands.

”I want to try to fix this relationship…do you?”

of you say yes, he smiles and hugs you, if you say no, he nods and says he understands, but still asks if he can raise the kid with you

”do you want to move in?” He offers, “I have a spare room, you can stay there while we fix our relationship, no rush…”

he assures you,

you nod. “I guess kaveh’s getting another roommate huh? Ah- another two roommates” he smiles as he rubs your belly.

while you’re pregnant, he takes care of finances, everything really. He pampers you and stuff

kaveh is happy for the both of you just “as long as you don’t make me the babysitter…. Except for if you lessen my rent”

When the baby comes haitham was there to support you

you two took care of the child pretty well (Kaveh taking care of the kid VOLUNTARILY since he’s grown to get attached to them, he even teaches them how to draw as they grow up)

Alhaitham and you get your relationship fixed (yayyy)

Alhaitham comes home earlier to help with the baby, he plays with the kid and does everything in general

he reads the kid as many books as they want, every day even if he’s busy he WILL make time for the kid.

sometimes he takes the baby to work with him, and while he works he talks to the baby (he teaches things to them as well)

Alhaitham proudly introduces them to Cyno and nari and they call Collei the sister of your kid

make another request if u want them as parents headcanons cause I can fill thousands of these

WRIOTHESLEY:

You and wriothesley ended your relationship on pretty good terms

you still visit him sometimes and that’s how this whole thing started

sigewinne started to notice how you constantly looked in pain, or how some days you come later than usual

she didn’t say much about it until she could have sworn she heard you throwing up in one of the bathrooms.

she asks you what’s wrong and when you say you don’t know, she brings you in for a checkup.

that’s when you found out. “you’re pregnant!”

she says happily while clapping her hands. “Congrats!”

you panicked, knowing EXACTLY who the father was.

“….whats wrong?”

she asks, noticing your silence

“…is it wriothesley?”

you nod, not even knowing how to tell him or how he will react.

“I’m sure he’ll be glad, ah speak of the devil!”

he entered the room, he heard you throwing up and he panicked. But when he entered the room, he had an unreadable expression.

“you’re…pregnant?”

he asked. And that’s when you realized he heard everything. As you nod he takes awhile to think

He sits down on one of the infirmary beds in front of you,

“….can we keep it? If you don’t want to I understa-“

you nod, he smiled and moved beds to sit next to you.

sigewinne went away to give you two some privacy

”I don’t want them growing up here though” he chuckled, he didn’t want the kid growing in the fortress of meropide

”wouldn’t let ‘em even if we had the option” you joked back, as wriothesley held your hand

”…you’re really okay with keeping the baby? Don’t wanna have regrets now”

as you reassure him, he pulls you into a hug

”how do we raise them?” He asks, squeezing your hand a bit

”what do you mean?”

”as…as best friends like we are now? Or… do.. do you want to try again? Being in a more… serious relationship I mean”

mid you say u wanan try, he’ll be happy and afterwards press a kiss to your cheek, and if you say no, he will nod but still be happy you two can have a family.

ge ends the talk with “I love you”

during pregnancy he makes sigewinne go to your home to help you when he’s busy

The moment you say ure in too much pain, he runs to your home, and cares for you the entire time.

eventually you move in to his mansion, and his maids take care of your cravings and all

He feels bad for being absent but every day when he comes home he has a gift for you <3

i feel wriothesley wouldnt want the kid to be scared with the criminals he handles so he doesn’t talk much about work at home

he enjoys being with you, he is more at home now as much as he can.

he’s in charge of diapers, he doesn’t care if he’s out he told you he will do it

in fact he’s like that with almost everything.

The moment you try to tell him “I can do it” he goes

“You’ve spent 9 months taking care of this kid on your own, no buts.”

he wants you to have a breeze with the kid

Every night, the kid cuddles with you two to sleep.

He makes an effort to go out with you two, on picnics or anthing, he wants to make sure this kid is loved due to his backstory

jes also very protective of the kid, he loves you two very much

AYATO:

You and ayato ended your relationship pretty formally, he didn’t want you two to have bad blood between each other

you don’t keep in touch much, but occasionally he sends messages asking how you are and all.

Lately however, you’ve been getting more sick and feeling bad. You asked your friends about it and they didn’t really know what to do, they passed it off as “maybe you ate something bad?”

you couldn’t handle it anymore, so one day you went to the hospital with your friend ayaka. Ayaka was one of your closest friends, even before dating ayato you two were already close, she went with you to the hospital (since you didn’t want to go alone) and after awhile, you two found out you were pregnant.

“Congratulations!” She clapped, as the doctor left the room. “What’s with the long face?”

“….I need to talk to ayato…. Ayaka do you know if he’s busy today?”

she then realized what you meant, before nodding and helping you check out of the hospital

that same day, luckily when you dropped her off, ayato was right outside, just taking a stroll around. He waved when he saw you and ayaka.

ayaka asked him if he was busy and he shook his head. And that’s when she left the two of you.

“it’s been quite some time hasnt it? What’s so urgent?”

he asks as you two continue to walk outside the kamisato estate

As you explain to him the situation, he stops walking

”you’re sure? You double checked?”

its not that he doesn’t want the baby, it’s just he’s worried about the amount of pain you’ll go through

he brings you two to sit outside (on a chair ofc) and as you tell him you were sure, he was speechless for a bit

”…dear i think it’s up to you for what to do”

”if you’d like to keep it, I’d be more than happy to raise them with you, but if not…I’ll help you get things arranged”

if you say you keep it, he will smile and kiss you on the cheek.

”sorry” he chuckles

”can I raise them with you?”

if you say no he says he will then just support you financially and if you say yes, he will clap in excitement

as you’re pregnant, he lets you stay in his house (in the comments please tell me if his home has a name so I’ll edit it) and he spends more nights working more to ensure you two have everything enough for the baby (even if he’s already rich)

He takes some more days off than usual, just caring and pampering you

ayaka is so happy that her best friend lives with her and she also helps u too, morning sickness? If Ayato’s busy, she’ll be right there to hold your hair back. cravings? She will immediately ask the chef to cook it for you.

Thoma also is more than delighted to help, he’s actually really happy for you two.

as for your relationship with ayato, things aren’t sure. But he would always be open to the idea of trying again with you

once the baby arrives, ayato drops what he’s doing and immediately runs to you, he takes you to the hospital (ayaka and thoma too) and stays by your side and holds your hand the entire time

once the baby is out, he would go “good job darling, I’m so proud of you” and kisses you on the forehead

he takes a LOT of days off more now, (ayaka volunteered to do his work for her even if it’s difficult) and he pampers you and the kid

its up to you if you want to raise your kid as the next heir, but ayato definitely wouldn’t force you (or the kid, he would ask the kid once he’s older if they want and gives him 2 years to change their mind is they say yes or no)

he asks thoma to help him learn how to cook, change diapers, etc, he genuinely just wants to make this kid feel as loved as possible.

if your baby cries in the middle of the night he tucks you in and handles it himself.

he’d honestly be a good dad even if he’s really busy at times.

DILUC:

”what?”

“immm pregnant….”

you said, completely out of your mind after you had a few drinks at the tavern.

“y/n you’re drunk.”

he thinks you’re joking, but suddenly you pull out a pregnancy test

“Tadaaaaa…..”

he looks at you in shock

“where did you get this?”

“From me…?”

“It’s no time for jokes y/n where did you get this”

“i can take another one if you wanttt”

not only does he have to deal with this, but he also has to deal with you being drunk as hell.

“not now, oh god if you’re serious… you drank too much alcohol”

he panics, he immediately takes the drinks away from you and carries you to your home in mondstadt.

“please tell me you’re lying”

it’s not that he doesn’t want the baby, he’s just scared that you ARE pregnant and since you drank a lot that night, it would damage the baby

“woah there”

diluc bumps into kaeya, and kaeya looks at him weirdly to find you just muttering in his arms

“Kaeya, I need you to do me a favor”

“oh? Not even daring to speak to your brother for months only to come back for a favor hmm?”

“I’m serious this isn’t a game!”

Kaeya then nodded

“alright alright, what do you want”

Diluc explains to him what you announced and he asked for him to go to the pharmacy to ask if you did buy tests.

“alright, I’ll meet you in her home”

kaeya runs and diluc runs to your home, laying you down in your bedroom.

he runs to the bathroom and he does see a box of tests and 3 other positive tests.

“…so you were serious huh?” He sits next to you on your bed, seeing how you passed out from the drinks.

he watches over you the entire night, thinking things through

kaeya comes and confirms you bought them, and he thanks him.

”so you’re gonna be a dad?” kaeya asks, looking at his brother

”…I mean… y/n and I did want to be parents… it’s just yeah.. the falling out”

“what are you gonna do about it?”

”…if she keeps the baby, I’ll gladly help her. I’ll ask adelinde to stay in her home or she stays in the manor” (forgot what his home is called)

”so I’m gonna be an uncle huh?” Kaeya jokes

”I’d actually be really happy if you’d support this” diluc admits,

”of course I do, you’d be a good dad” kaeya reassures him

a few hours later kaeya leaves and in the morning you remember your conversation with diluc

he talks you over with it and once you two reach an agreement, he smiles.

he takes you to his manor and even if he has to work, he’s home earlier every day to help.

he starts building things, a crib, etc

once the baby is out, adelinde helps you two, and diluc overall though he’s strict, he’s really good

be plays with the kid, teaches them to attack, anything the kid wants, he supports

during arguments (if it’s between you and diluc) he makes sure the kid doesn’t hear, he doesn’t want to scare him.

”hey kiddo, let’s get you to your room okay? Ah and wear this” he hands him headphones “no taking off okay?”

You two however, sleep in different rooms.

if you Two get together, then in the same room.

diluc loves you two very much (kaeya and Adelinde as well)

Adelinde does usual chores and plays with the kid when you both are busy

and kaeya makes a bigger effort to visit more

actually what’s really nice is kaeya and diluc gets close again, when they both play with the kid, they themselves get reminded of their childhood and it’s really wholesome honestly

LYNEY:

(I love him so much)

when you two dated, you two were actually roommates. Up until now you two are roommates, and best friends

You didn’t even take any suspicion that you were pregnant, he just noticed more changes in your mood how you always looked in pain.

one morning, you suddenly had morning sickness, he was cooking breakfast and once he heard your retching, he closed the flame and ran, he pulled back your hair and rubbed your back

“there there,”

when you finished, he ran to get you some water and sat with you against the bathroom wall for a bit

“I think we need to talk”

“hm?”

“this- it can’t just be a coincidence Mon cher”

(I HEADCANON THAT HE GOT USED TO CALLING YOU PET NAMES IN UR RELATIONSHIP AND YOU SAID THAT ITS OKAY THAT HE DOES THAT)

“what do you mean?”

“you’ve been having more pains yes? Your mood has been more down lately, and your morning sickness?”

“morning sickness? No Lyney I’m sure I just ate something bad-“

“I think you’re pregnant”

“…what?”

And that’s how this whole thing started

The entire morning he tries to convince you

”birth control isn’t… doesn’t always work” he mutters

if you’re in denial, he goes out later to buy a test.

once you try it, and it’s positive you try another

”I’m… I’m really….”

he nods

”…y/n? Do you want to keep them?”

If you nod, he smiled and hugs you tightly and if you say no, he says he will get arlecchino to help with the process.

you two remain roommates and you can tell he’s trying his best to pretend to still be in the actual relationship

one night, he talks to you talking about how he still wants to try again, with being lovers and all

if you say no, he respects that and if you say yes, he presses kisses all over your face

he’s overjoyed really, and he’s so excited to tell Lynette and freminet

as for father… he doesn’t know how she will react so he writes her a letter

and she’s happy, she supports, but comes the next question

”what do we do with the fatui?” Lyney explains that he doesn’t want the kid to even HEAR about the fatui, especially with the trauma he got from it but at the same time, he doesn’t want to lie

You two decide to hide it as best as you can from the kid and tell him when he’s older. It isn’t the best choice but LYNEY doesn’t want the kid to be haunted by the crimes and all

he pampers you, comes home earlier form missions and he genuinely loves you a lot, if you want something no matter how far, he WILL get it

once the babies come out, yes, babies, you gave birth to twins,

he was the happiest person ever, kissing you and thanking you and telling you that he’s so proud of you and all.

he raises the kids very well, he doesn’t want them to end up being sad at all.

magic tricks? Always there. Every time the kids say something magical lyney tríes his best to make it come true

je loves you all very much

anything the child wants, he will support.

he teaches them some magic tricks and buys them their own cards.

lynette and freminet visit often and they help you two take care of the kids, and arlecchino

shes really proud of lyney :)) and she won’t force the kids to join the fatui

lyney always does his all to make you all happy, and sometimes he even falls asleep while watching over the kids

he wants to make life as easy for you and sometimes he forgets about himself, but he appreciates it when you tell him you want the same for him

A/N: GOD THIS WAS SO FUN, sorry I didn’t add any periods or capitalization, it’s just headcanons and I don’t wanna be like EXTREMELY serious about this cause it’s just for fun. Anyways thanks for requesting !! I added LYNEY cause I love lyney so much like omfg. I didn’t color code it since I’m not using the tumblr app anymore (rip storage) and so that’s why I have to use the site. Anyways thank you for requesting and my bad again if I mischaracyerized them, just comment if I did and I’ll change it <3 comments on how I can improve are appreciated!

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vangelini · 5 months ago

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Boyfriend For The Night (Part 2) | Spencer Reid x Reader

Part 1, Finale!

Summary: After a few too many drinks, Spencer takes you back to your place, and you say something you might regret when you sober up…

Tags: fluff, more pining idiots, BAU!Reader, Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Words: 2.3k (whoopsie)

“Reid is my boyfriend, for the night,” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink. It was, supposedly, just for the night, but Spencer liked the sound of that.

And, admittedly, so did you.

“Just for the night?” Morgan laughed, his bright, white smile teasing you two.

“Well, we’ll see how he does and go from there,” you joked. Reid couldn’t help but laugh a little at your comment.

“Well, I intend to impress,” he rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand, laughing under his breath while looking down at you. Penelope hit Morgan on the shoulder, drawing his attention toward Reid’s little look of love. He just laughed, turning back to his conversation with Hotch.

“Those two are so screwed.”

The night went on as one usually does. Some of the team split off into different games, dancing, or their own little conversations. You and Spencer were of the latter group.

“I can’t explain WHY The Princess Bride is my favorite movie, it just is!” You feigned defensiveness, leaning into the seat behind you, laughing. “Why don’t your profile it out of me,” you smiled at Spencer. He laughed, taking a drink of his club soda.

“Fine,” he set his drink down, turning to you. “I think…” he leaned down, leveling his eyes with yours, glancing between both of your irises. “I think it’s probably because, ever since you were a child, you’ve been escaping with fantasy,” he sat up. “It would be safest to assume you identify with Buttercup, that you long for someone close to you to come sweep you off your feet and solve all your problems,” he narrowed his eyes. You looked gently up at him. “But,” he sighed, leaning back. “Knowing you, I’d say you like Westley,” he smiled. “You grew up less wealthy and have worked your whole life to protect the people you love. It’s a movie that makes you believe there’s hope in the world,” he took a long sip of his drink.

Your jaw hung open in shock. “When did you learn so much about The Princess Bride,” you smiled, leaning your head on your hand.

“Garcia made me watch it,” he shrugged, laughing.

“Okay, fine…” You took a sip of your drink, head spinning a little. “So what’s your favorite movie, then, hm?”

He didn’t hesitate before responding, like he had clearly been wanting to talk about it. “L’age D’or,” he spoke with his hands. “It’s a-a seminal surrealist film that was actually co-written by Salvador Dali,” he smiled wide. “It used Dali’s classic absurd style and shocking imagery to critique the bourgeoisie and the Catholic Church. It, uh, was so controversial, actually, that it led to riots and bans,” he continued on about vignettes and taboos, but you just stared at him with a smile, eyes glazed over with pure adoration. Some time after he went on about Luis Buñuel’s other works, you realized you were absolutely whipped for this nerd.

You must have been off in la-la-land, because Reid got a little closer to you to get your attention. “Are you okay?” You snapped up.

“What, yeah, I’m good,” you smiled, smoothing down your slacks. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you smiled nervously, standing up a little too quickly. You stumbled a little, causing Reid to reach out and steady you with his hands. Morgan noticed.

“Hey, Pretty Girl, how many of those have you had?” He gestured to your glass.

“Probably too many,” you smiled half heartedly, realizing you were likely a little more than tipsy. You also started to notice how tightly Spencer’s hands steadied you. “It’s getting late, anyways, I’ll go call a cab,” you started to reach for your phone, but Spencer stepped in.

“Hey, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Pretty Boy is right,” Morgan added. “Someone should take you home.”

“Guys, Im an adult, I don’t need a babysitter,” you laughed, speech slightly slurred. Yeah, you were definitely drunk.

“It’s fine, I can take her home,” Spencer gave a tight-lipped smile to Morgan. He turned to you, ignoring Morgan’s small, concerned smirk. “It’s not safe to go home alone while inebriated,” he took his hands off of you, and you noticed how he flexed them a little. Interesting. You would have to analyze that in the morning, maybe when you weren’t so intoxicated. He pulled his crossbody bag over himself and grabbed your hand, leading you from the booth. “I’m still your boyfriend, for the night,” he smiled.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“Okay, okay, whatever, pretty boy,” your hand tightened around his. The nickname felt different, coming from your lips, he thought. Somehow, it seemed like less of a nickname and more of an observation. He shook it off. “I don’t live far from here, we can walk,” you spoke as you both stepped out of the bar, the biting cold air hitting your skin. You wrapped your arms around Spencer’s, his biceps wrapped up nicely by his cotton sweater. You smiled, and, you couldn’t see it, but so did he.

“Sounds good,” he barely squeaked out, just content to be settling into your touch.

The walk was peaceful, passing by a river or a park, street lights illuminating the sidewalk. They cast a warm glow on the night, shining in Spencer’s eyes, glimmering as he glanced down at you stumbling by his side. The breeze was slightly shielded by Spencer’s towering figure. He relished the feeling of your grip, a sense of security he didn’t know he craved. And, for a moment, it really did feel like you two were a couple.

He helped you up the steps to you apartment. “Such a gentleman,” you joked. He laughed lowly.

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t eat concrete, but if you’d rather I didn’t-”

“I’m kidding, i’m kidding~” you slurred out, pulling out your keys. It danced around the lock a few times, since your vision was blurred, but with some help from your temporary boyfriend, the door pushed open and you were met with the warmth of your apartment. You couldn’t help but sigh, throwing yourself down on the couch. Spencer locked the door behind the two of you, watching you kick off your shoes.

“You should take your contacts out before you fall asleep,” he put his bag down. “Sleeping with them in can increase your risk of infection up to eight times,” he more than scurried over to your kitchen, filling you up a glass of water.

“Speeence, that’s so much work,” you threw a throw blanket around your arms.

“I know, sweetheart, but I don’t want you coming in to work tomorrow with dry eyes and corneal damage,” he set the glass down on the coffee table, kneeling in front of you. You were so tired, you didn’t notice the nickname. He didn’t seem to, either. “Come on, you need to take them out,” he reached for your arm, taking a hold of your wrist. His voice was gentle, laced with a genuine concern, and his touch was reverent. As you looked down to where his sturdy hands held you, you realized, for a moment, how deeply you cared for him.

He knew alcohol made your inhibitions nonexistent, but he didn’t expect you to start crying. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong,” he grabbed the side of your face, wiping a tear off your cheek. His hands were just so soft, it made you tear up more.

“I-I don’t know,” you sobbed out. You really didn’t know.

“Hey, it’s okay, drink this,” he handed you the glass of water. As you took a sip, he moved his hands to your knees, soothing small circles into them. “Why are you sad?”

You sniffled, looking down at his face. His brows knitted together, eyes beaming up into your own. You could have SWORN you saw his heart beating against his sweater. “Because I love you being my boyfriend, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t,” you were a little embarrassed, but you were drunk, so it barely mattered.

Spencer’s heart rate spiked, and a rosy tint started rising in his face. “You don’t mean that,” he soothed, voice just above a whisper.

“I do,” you looked straight into his eyes. They were glazed over in something you couldn’t describe and probably never would.

“According to research, a-about 63% of people have admitted to saying something they regret while intoxicated,” he reasoned out, holding onto your hand.

“Another study found that 54% of those confessions are things they genuinely feel, Spence,” he realized you clearly weren’t out-of-it enough to not hit him with his own statistics. He couldn’t speak, and he really couldn’t think either. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes dancing around your face. His heart jumped up and down as an innocent desire swept through his veins.

Did you really mean that? Was he not the only one who stole small glances in the bullpen? Was he not alone in his heartbreak when watching someone else flirt with you? Surely, this was a symptom of the alcohol. Maybe-

“It’s so hot in here,” you broke the silence, breaking away from him. He swallowed hard, eyes moving hesitantly away from your face.

“I’ll uh, I’ll change your thermostat,” he stood up, moving towards the hall.

“Thank you, Spence,” you lied down, sniffling once more.

He gave up on having you take out your contacts or change your clothes. He just spread another blanket over you, shutting off the lights. He even took the liberty of setting your alarm. Before he left, he heard you mumble a small, “Good night, Spence.”

He smiled, sighing.

“Good night.”

—

“Hey, Pretty Girl, didn’t have too much fun last night, did you?” Morgan laughed. He couldn’t see you rolling your eyes under the sunglasses that shielded you from another migraine.

“Ha-ha,” you set your stuff down. “That’s me laughing at your funny joke.”

“Honestly, I’m shocked you didn’t show up with Boy Genius, this morning,” he crossed his arms. “Leaving together from the bar, going back to your place-“

“Derek, nothing happened,” you huffed. At least, you THOUGHT nothing happened. The events of the last twelve hours were an honest blur.

“Okay, okay, I yield,” he threw up his hands, going back to his own work. You turned to see Spencer walking in at about the same time.

He had replayed your words in his mind about a thousand times, maybe more. Did you really mean it when you said you loved having him as your boyfriend? Maybe you said that to every guy who took you home drunk. He thought going through all the possibilities would make it easier to face you, in the morning. He proved himself wrong.

You pulled off your glasses, standing up. As he sat down at his desk, you leaned over it.

“I wanted to say thank you for last night,” you spoke softly, not out of secret, but out of vulnerability.

“It’s no trouble,” he smiled. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he looked up at you, moving some files around his desk.

“I really, really appreciate it,” you spoke apologetically. “I wasn’t too much… trouble, was I?” You smiled nervously. “When i’m inebriated, my inhibitions tend to…” you trailed off, trying to find the words.

“Disappear?” He smiled, laughing a little.

“Yeah…”

“You weren’t any trouble,” he reassured you, voice steady. “Actually, it was,” he smiled. “It was nice.”

“Nice?” you laughed, feeling your headache melt away at his soft voice.

“Being able to take care of you,” he defended playfully. “I don’t usually get to do that; it’s usually the other way around,” he tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, looking up at your soft smile. “There was something I wanted to talk about, though…” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Crap, did I do something weird last night? I’m so sorry, if I did, I never-“

“No, no, nothing like that,” he laughed nervously. “You uhm…” he grabbed the back of his neck. He wanted to know if you really felt the same way he did. He wanted to know if you would hold his hand like that while sober. He wanted you. “Would you like to, maybe, get together sometime again?” He squeaked out, smiling shyly. “Maybe, this time, without the alcohol?” You smiled at his offer.

“I absolutely would, Spence,” you giggled out, tapping a nail habitually on the screen dividing your desks. He sighed a sigh of relief.

“Cool,” he pursed his lips together in a smile.

“Cool,” you mirrored him subconsciously.

Maybe it wasn’t just for the night.

(‼️💕THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REQUESTED PART TWO. REQUESTS ALWAYS OPEN💕‼️)

#x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you

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pedrospatch · 7 months ago

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a safe haven l ten

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze.

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #tw dv #tw domestic violence #tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction

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sanakiras · 25 days ago

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BOUND BY BLOOD [TEASER]

PAIRING — yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 692 [full fic is 10k+]

SYNOPSIS — in an attempt to escape your past, you join your mother when she moves in with her soon-to-be husband at the other side of the country. the only downside is that your new stepbrother causes you to sink deeper into the rabbit hole you were so desperately trying to leave behind.

TAGS — mentions of death, dark content (stepcest + incestuous undertones), explicit sexual content, mc and jeonghan are two fucked up pervs coming together to maximize their joint slay, additional tags to be added

♪ — ethel cain - family tree,, charli xcx - apple,, ruelle - monsters,, boy harsher - pain,, lana del rey - in my feelings,, unloved - danger,, twin tribes - monolith,, banks - the fall

NOTE — title is not what u think it is i promise. yes i came up with this fic after going through ethel cain’s discography can you tell. do keep in mind that this is just fictional and nothing more than a fantasy, so please (!) skip if the tags make you uncomfortable <3

despite being an adult, your mother’s authority still has a hold on you sometimes.

which is why instead of being in bed all morning like you’d planned, you’re currently in a grand church, seated on a bench in the back of the spacious hall with jeonghan next to you.

your parents were adamant on sitting near the front, but when you were walking into the hall just ten minutes ago, it was jeonghan who took you by your arm so that you and him could sit in the back together, and you’re honestly thankful for it.

with a sigh, you don’t know if you’re talking to yourself, or him. “i have no idea what i’m doing here. i’m not even catholic. pretty sure my mom isn’t, either.”

“no? not a fan of monotonous singing in a cold hall on sunday mornings?”

a scoff escapes you, followed by a sarcastic quip. “such a way with words, brother dearest.”

jeonghan shrugs, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. “maybe you should pretend to be sick next time our parents want us to tag along. i’ll have no other option but to stay home and take care of you.”

is it so wrong of him to want you all to himself?

“creative.” you mutter with a grin, simultaneously hiding the effect his words have on your body.

he only gives you that mischievous smile, looking at you from the corner of his eye, and you can’t resist the soft chuckles escaping you.

not much later, he’s sitting closer to you, using it as an excuse to whisper in your ear. “me and my dad aren’t catholic either. i’m guessing it’s just about appearances.”

“of course,” you roll your eyes, “maybe they wanna get married here and this is their way of checking it out.”

jeonghan, very selfishly, doesn’t want to think about his father and your mother getting married. he just smiles at you as a way to conceal his true feelings, and all he can think about is that he should’ve met you first, that you should’ve been his.

so he averts his gaze, attempting to focus on whatever the pastor is saying, hoping it’ll take his mind off it.

the preaching is grim and anything but welcoming. words like hell and damnation are thrown around numerous times in a speech that feels almost like it’s spoken in a foreign language, and he hates it — he hates being here.

but perhaps not as much as you do.

“we must and will all pay for our sins, one way or another—” the pastor’s voice rings through your ears. his words keep replaying in your head, and it begins to make you feel dizzy, heavy existential suffering overtaking your chest, like a loud scream being pushed down but fighting to work its way up your throat.

you have to stop thinking about it.

you have to let it go.

jeonghan takes notice of your change in body language. where you were previously hardly moving a muscle, your breathing has become irregular, chest rising and falling more visibly, and you’re digging your nails into the skin of your thigh.

what he’d do to know what’s going on in that head of yours.

he puts his hand just above your knee in an attempt to comfort you, and when you look up at him with almost disturbed eyes, all you find in his gaze is — understanding.

jeonghan doesn’t know what it is you’re hiding from him, but he figures you must’ve done something wrong in your past, if this is your reaction to the speech currently being given.

but he’s done wrong too.

his palm is still resting comfortably on your bare skin, and your shaky hand reaches out for his instinctively; it feels so right. instead of letting you put your hand on top of his, he raises it to hold yours, intertwining your fingers.

when you look at him with corners of your mouth downturned and eyes glossy, your hand clenching his like you need it as much as you need to breathe, he chooses not to give a damn whether your parents choose to get married or not.

he’ll be there for you when you need it — he’ll make you his.

this is a snippet of a fic i’m still working on so no release date yet, but if you’d like to be tagged once it’s released, leave a comment! x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

#cw stepcest #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x reader #svt x reader #jeonghan smut #svt smut #svthub #jeonghan fanfic #svt fic #svt imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen oneshot

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rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober 2024: Day 1

SUMMARY: Jake is stuck at base for a mind-numbing training session, while you’re home enjoying a much-needed day off. Bored and missing him, you decide to have a little fun by slipping into his favorite lacy lingerie and sending him a few teasing photos. What starts as playful fun turns into a tantalizing game of anticipation as Jake struggles to focus on anything other than getting home to you—and making you pay for being such a tease.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm a little late getting this one posted. Work and life got the best of me today! But here is Day 1 of the Kinktober prompts!

PROMPT: "Damn, you're such a tease."

KINK: Sexting/Sending NSFW Pictures.

WARNINGS: Sexting/Sending NSFW Pictures.

WORD COUNT: 562

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

It was one of those rare days off, the kind where you could lounge around the apartment, free from any obligations or stress. You had the place to yourself, and although it was peaceful, something was missing: Jake.

Jake was stuck at base, caught up in yet another training session. You could practically hear his groans when he left this morning, muttering about how he could fly his aircraft blindfolded and still ace this review. You’d been texting back and forth with him all morning, and from the sound of it, he was bored out of his mind.

You’d been missing him too—his presence, his touch, the playful banter you shared. And then an idea popped into your head. You glanced toward your dresser, your lips curling into a mischievous smile as you remembered Jake's favorite lacy lingerie set tucked inside.

A little fun wouldn’t hurt, right?

Grinning, you slipped into the soft, delicate fabric, adjusting the lace until it fit perfectly against your skin. The deep, sultry red contrasted beautifully with your complexion, and you couldn’t help but admire the way it hugged your curves. You knew this set drove Jake crazy—he’d told you so more than once.

You grabbed your phone and posed in front of the mirror, snapping a few playful shots. One with you standing straight, one where you tugged the hem of the lace teasingly, and one of you sitting on the edge of the bed, just enough skin showing to keep it innocent… yet tempting.

With a smirk, you sent the first picture to Jake, captioning it with a simple, “Miss you.”

You barely had to wait a minute before your phone buzzed. Jake’s name lit up the screen, and you opened the message to see his reply: “Damn, you’re such a tease.”

You giggled, feeling a rush of satisfaction. It was good to know you could get to him, even when he was stuck in a stuffy classroom. But you weren’t done yet.

Biting your lip, you snapped another picture—this time lying on the bed, your body half-covered by the sheets. The lacy set peeked out just enough to leave plenty to the imagination, but still give Jake something to think about.

“Thought you could use a distraction. How’s that training going?” you typed, hitting send.

His response came back almost instantly: “Training? What training? All I’m thinking about now is how fast I can get home.”

You could practically picture him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on anything but the images you’d sent.

Feeling playful, you teased him again. “Aw, don’t you still have a few hours left? Guess you’ll just have to be patient.”

Another message buzzed in: “You’re killing me, sweetheart. Wait ‘til I get home. We’ll see who’s teasing who.”

You felt a warm shiver run down your spine at his words, knowing full well what was waiting for you once Jake finally got back. But for now, you enjoyed the thought of him struggling through his training session, knowing you had him wrapped around your finger.

Leaning back against the pillows, you smiled to yourself, imagining how this little game would play out once Jake was home. His frustration would build throughout the day, and by the time he walked through that door, he’d be ready to turn the tables on you in the best possible way.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader

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papaya-twinks · 6 months ago

Note

could you please write about lando trying to win back the reader after he messed up with some smut at the end 🫣

You Dumb Bitch - l.n

Warnings: Smut, 18+, angst, swearing, argument.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I usually take requests on my side blog @itsnear-afish.

Lando Norris was a prick, and you’d never hated someone’s guts to the extent where you hated his. And you cursed every single memory and time you’d ever told him that you loved him and oh, how you wished you could take it back. You thought of him as a role model in the past, someone to look up to. Oh how very wrong you were.

y/n

For the last time, Lando, I dumped you because you didn’t treat me how any decent human should be treated. You can’t message me and tell me to ‘come back home’ whenever you see me even remotely CLOSE to a guy. That’s not how it works.

You groaned, sitting in the McLaren garage beside Oscar. This was the fourth time since your break up, which was two days ago, that Lando had frantically messaged you when you were talking to someone. “Lando again?” Oscar said, sympathy radiating from him.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, sliding your phone towards him. He scrolled through, reading the message from his teammate with a soft frown on his face. “Y/N,” he said, looking up at you, “he really wants you back,”. You covered your face with your hands - he was right, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want Lando back ever so slightly. Your phone dinged,

landinho

Y/N, please, I know I treated you wrong, I know and I’m so so so sorry. I’ll treat you right, please, I’ll treat you better.

You really should change his name. “Y/N, please,” Oscar said, practically pleading with you, “for my fucking sake, give him a chance,”. He was right. You knew he was right. But you couldn’t just reply and say ‘oh yes, of course, let’s forget everything’s that’s happened’. “Tell you what,” the Aussie spoke, “Lily and I have already invited Lando for lunch. What about you tag along? You could give him a chance. If you don’t like it, talk to Lily,”.

So you settled on a simple summery dress, white, with matching platform heels. You tied half your hair up and finished the look off with a how. The cafe was small and somewhat empty, a few coupled sat here and there, talking animatedly. Oscar, Lando and Lily were already sat when you arrived, a half-desperate smile on Lando’s face as he tried to get your attention. “Hi,” Lily smiled, gesturing for you to sit. “Nice dress,” Lando said as you muttered a quick thanks.

Lando was wearing a white shirt and pleated dress trousers, curls arranged messily, the same way you liked it. Rings adorned his fingers along with bracelets on each wrist. Oscar and Lily were talking vividly before they noticed you.

“Ah, I see you have added another one,” a throaty Italian accent came from behind you. You turned to see the waiter behind you, eyes scanning your body as you flushed, “a very pretty little thing too, no?”. You could sense the way Lando’s body tensed, it had only been two days since you broke up after all. Oscar sent his foot into Lando’s shin, he was clearly showing way too much disgust at the waiter.

Lando’s jaw slacked as he adjusted the pendant hanging on his chest - four buttons open. “These two are together, yes?” he asked, directing the question to Lando. Absolutely not, it was obvious to anyone. And Lando didn’t fail to see the smirk on the waiter’s face. “No,” he said blandly, eyes blazing. “Ah, then forgive me for such a thing,” he turned to you, “but to ask for such a pretty girl’s number?”.

Your cheeks heated up as your mouth opened, no words coming out. “She’ll do no such thing, thanks,” Lando rolled his eyes as the waiter smiled. “Oh, but she is single, is she not?”. He was right - you were a free agent. You hadn’t noticed Lando’s hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh under his touch. “I’ll pass,” you nodded to the man as he clicked his tongue with dismay. The rest of dinner was spent with you and Lily talking, Oscar and Lando having their own conversation.

You decided to head home, only to realise your taxi had been cancelled. “I’ll take you,” Lando said, lifting his keys from his pocket. “Give him a chance,” Oscar said, taking you aside as you sighed. “Fine,” you said, following Lando. “Why’d you say no to that guy?” Lando asked, shutting your door and starting up his impressive McLaren. “You made it pretty clear you didn’t want me to,” you shrugged. “And why listen to me, Y/N?” he asked, driving down the road, “I’m not your boyfriend,” his left hand was on your thigh, dangerously high.

“Lando,” you gulped, eyes on his hand as he rode your dress up ever so slightly. “Pull up,” you said, eyes on his, almost pleading. Everything about him was hot. And you hated yourself for it, but you needed him oh so badly. “What?” he said, hearing you fully well. “Pull up, Lando,” you were practically begging him, your thong soaking. He hummed, sliding into an empty parking lot, the night time was your cover.

“Need you, Lan,” you groaned, his lips immediately on your neck. “Now you do, hm?” he scoffed, “couldn’t even hold yourself together for one dinner?” he claws at your dress, hand cupping tits breast as you fumbled messily at his trousers. “Oh you’re pathetic,” he lifted you off of him, pushing them down, cock springing against his shirt. “Lando,” you whined hand pumping his length as you coated him with salvia.

“Had your tits out for the whole world to see, didn’t you?” he squeezed on your chest as you placed yourself onto your knees, lips wrapping around his throbbing tip. His words were harsh, but his touch was ever so gentle, moving your hair out of your face. Reaching over your back, he lifted your dress, fingers toying at your clit from behind as your back arched, your moans muffled on his dick.

You bobbed your head up and down slowly as he hummed, “aren’t you a dumb little bitch for leaving me?”. You nodded your head, the feeling sending Lando feral as he plunger his long fingers into you, a shriek against his thigh as he pulled you onto his lap, fingers still in you. “Ride my fingers, ‘s that what you gonna do?” he cackled, “Get yourself off on my fingers?” he swirled around, the feeling was heavenly.

He pulled out, your whines oblivious to him as he opened nis door. “Lan,” you said, eyes wide, your hair messy and mouth wet. “It’s too dark for anyone to see us,” he shrugged, pressing your stomach against the hood of his car so your ass peeked out shamelessly. Your tits pressed onto his bodywork as he lined himself with you, pushing in as you stifled a moan.

“Why the fuck did you even think of giving him your number?” he spat, his pace was merciless. “I didn’t, I didn’t,” you gasped, body shaking with each thrust. “Why? He was good looking,” he cooed in your ear, moving your hair away. “Why?” he demanded again, slamming into you as your mouth fell open. “Because I’m yours,” you moaned, eyes rolling. “That’s right, baby, you’re mine. My dumb little bitch with her pretty wet cunt,” he smirked, “all for me,”.

“All for you, all of its yours,” you muttered, unable to form words. “Good,” he said, sending you over the edge as his jaw slackened, following after you, his hand jumping to your mouth to cover your gasps and shrieks. “Forget even telling the press we broke up,” he said, lifting you into his arms, your back against his chest, head lolling on his shoulder. “‘M yours,” you mumbled, absolutely cock drunk. Thanks to Oscar for convincing you.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando x reader #f1

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piastrisun · 1 month ago

Text

assist, then kiss.

pairings: george russell + assistant female character.

summary: when lewis’ bails on dinner, his assistant ends up sharing the evening with his teammate. what was supposed to be a casual night turns into an accidental setup.

faceclaim: laura harrier.

notes: named protagonist.

LONDON, ENGLAND. FEBRUARY 10.

liked by georgerussell63, username and others

lewishamilton dinner with the lady before the season starts. wonderful night as always.

tagged rhode

view all comments

username that’s my wife

username1 lewis or rhode cause it could be any of them

username both

username2 i’m obsessed with them

username3 what’s the deal here i’m new and i don’t get anything 😭😭

username4 rhode is lewis’ assistant and close friend!! they hang out almost all the time off work

rhode well deserved dinner for being the most wonderful assistant ever

lewishamilton true, very much deserved

username5 they’re so sweet

username6 glad you had an amazing break!!

georgerussell63 see you on track, mate!

georgerussell63 and see you on the garage, rhode

rhode 🫂

SAKHIR, BAHRAIN. FEBRUARY 27.

rhode added to their story.

replies to your story

georgerussell63 oh hello there!

rhode 👋🏾

georgerussell63 reacted ❤️ to your message

lewishamilton no hey lewis

rhode the 44 cap says it all

lewishamilton ☹️☹️☹️

rhode but

username how are you going to look THAT good on a casual selfie

liked by alex_albon, username and others

georgerussell63 testing done! thanks to the team in bahrain and back home for all the hard work. and hello to rhodie for sneaking in my selfie.

view all comments

username1 let’s goooo george 🩵

username2 “rhodie” is so cute

username3 am so delusional i think they’d be a really good couple

username2 fr they match each other’s vibes but it’s never happening

username4 my fave f1 model

rhode hey george 🫶🏾 ♥︎ liked by author

lewishamilton 🕴🏻

MARCH 01.

RHODE’S CHATS: LEWIS HAMILTON & GEORGE RUSSELL.

RHODE’S CHATS: LEWIS HAMILTON.

rhode added to their story.

replies to your story

georgerussell63 posting a picture where you look stunning while i look like that should be a crime

rhode that’s just how you look on the daily basis

georgerussell63 JAIL TIME DESERVED

lewishamilton 👀👀👀

lewishamilton stop leaving me in seen

rhode thought you suggested me to flirt while you bail?

lewishamilton i have an eye for this stuff!!!

MARCH 20.

APRIL 03.

APRIL 28.

rhode added to their story.

replies to your story:

lewishamilton if you two aren’t a match then i don’t know what love is

rhode i’m going to hold your hand when i say this…

georgerussell63 out all of the awful pictures you took of me, this has to be one of the WORST

rhode not my fault you look like you’d ask me if i have games on my phone 😭😭

georgerussell63 MATE???

MAY 10.

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and others

rhode a few moments of the past few weeks. swipe for a surprise. <3

tagged lewishamilton, georgerussell63

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username i was like aweee most beautiful dump and there’s george

username2 she’s not serious at all 😭😭

username4 why was i expecting a normal picture of him since they were together yesterday

username3 how does it feel to live my DREAM

username4 travel the world, being hot and funny?

username3 no, being friends w lewis and george

username5 ok that’s fair

georgerussell63 OH COME ON

georgerussell63 never gonna get pass that moment i see

rhode true, nothing you’ll ever do will be as good as you recording alex

alex_albon thanks for keeping him humble, he needs it

rhode 🙏

username6 alexrhode interaction????

lewishamilton now you owe me one! i’ll wait for my fruit basket right here

rhode you’re gonna die waiting

lewishamilton 🙃

rhode please don’t fire me

georgerussell63 added to their story.

replies to your story:

rhode IM CRYING WHAT IS THIS

georgerussell63 you know what it is, pure hate

rhode omg you’re obsessed with me

georgerussell63 i wanna throw a rock at you

rhode that’s the best you came up with??? AFTER TEN MINUTES

georgerussell63 yes please don’t judge

username at this point you two should turn your accounts into hate pages of each other 😭😭

alex_albon big dumbass energy except it’s not energy but a fact

georgerussell63 thanks!

alex_albon ur welcome

rhode added to their story.

replies to your story:

georgerussell63 are you trying to flirt with me right now

rhode no, we are at work!!!

georgerussell63 technically i don’t work with you ☝️

username9 dream work? more like dream girl

liked by username4, landonorris and others

georgerussell63 already planning my next visit, not with rhode though. 🗺️

view all comments

username5 I CANT WITH THEM

username6 they’re so funny together, i bet lewis regrets introducing them

rhode i'm choosing to ignore the caption AND that you tried to make me look bad… you really are incapable of posting with a shirt ON

georgerussell YOU TOOK IT so whose to blame 🫵

username imagine they are together and we are making fools of ourselves

username2 IMAGINE OMG

rhode well yes! ♥︎ liked by author

username3 £;&:&:& WHAT

username4 i just fell at my knees

liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton and others

rhode forgot to mention. but we do love each other, i swear!!!

tagged georgerussell63

view all comments

username lewis setting them up by accident might be my favourite thing ever

georgerussell63 and she takes good pictures of me, don’t hate on her!!!!

rhode literally no one did

georgerussell63 i did 🫣

rhode i’m done with you

georgerussell63 no you’re not

rhode you right

username LMAOOOO they’re so funny

username2 the relationship i deserve

username3 us not realising they were together because they are always joking it’s so george 😭

georgerussell63 fun fact: i love you!!!

rhode WOAHHHH, did you know that i love you too?

username4 that’s it they’re my parents now

lewishamilton my favourite couple by far! 🖤

rhode thank you for dumping us that night, but don’t do it again

lewishamilton yes m’am 🫡

#piastrisun: work #piastrisun: smau #george russel x reader #george russell x you #george russell fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #george russell smau #george russell ima

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strang3lov3 · 1 month ago

Text

Downpour

Jack offers you a ride home, pulls over to wait out the storm, and fucks you. (4k)

Tags - smut, fingering, oral (f! receiving) hand jobs, unprotected piv, infidelity (Jack is married still), dirty talk, pet names (darling, sweetie, sweetheart, dear), unspecified age gap, kissing, finger sucking, bit of comeplay/come eating, reader has a bush but is otherwise undescribed #bushnation, Jack is all sweet and tender but kinda pervy too, i've headcannoned that mr. delroy is a man who comes a lot. like just so much come. references to late night with the devil but this fic can be understood without watching the movie, I write car sex uniquely in that I am not bound by physics or logic or any bullshit like that. So it’s like a Mary Poppins bag in there. Lots of room for fucking. No, don’t ask questions. Shhh. Don’t worry about it. Fic Help - @noxturnalpascal thanks for your help sweetheart ♡ i love you forever A/N - the David Dastmalchian brain worms infected me months ago and have not let me rest, so here’s this. Car sex with an older and married Jack Delroy.

I feel a little nervous about writing Jack, as I feel with all characters that are new to me. It takes me some time to find my groove. Kind comments would be appreciated 💕 maybe a prompt or two in the inbox for me to play around with if you wanna see more of him 🙏

As Night Owls comes to a close for the evening, and laughter and chatter begin to fade out, you busy yourself tidying up your station. Cleaning your makeup brushes, packing away your supplies for the weekend. You watch the television in your room and see Jack waving goodbye, shaking audience members’ hands. He’s so handsome tonight. He’s handsome every night.

You’ve been working as a makeup artist on Night Owls for about a year now. It’s a job you kind of stumbled your way into. You had won a raffle ticket to watch Night Owls live show. You were so excited to go and yet you don’t even remember who the guest was that night. You went alone, and found yourself charmed by the show’s host, Jack Delroy. While on commercial break, while the television crew changed the set, you noticed Jack glancing at you as you touched up your makeup, fidgeting and tapping his foot. You offered him a kind smile, and he approached you.

“Jack Delroy,” he said, holding out his hand. You took it, and he kissed the backs of your fingertips. Starstruck, you giggled and gave him your name, tripping over the syllables. “Beautiful name, darling.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy.”

Jack held your hand longer than what was appropriate. Realizing this, he quickly dropped it. “So, I apologize, but I'm about to be very forward. Gosh, this is very embarrassing,” he laughed awkwardly, then scratched the back of his neck. “I get a little oily in the face. The lights, you know. You wouldn’t happen to have like, a…” he trailed off, stuttering as he tried to find the right words.

You smiled and held up a finger, then dug through your makeup bag for some Mary Kay Beauty Blotter sheets your friend had given you. “Here.” You held the pack sheets out for the handsome talk show host. “Would these help?”

Jack took the sheets from you and inspected them.

“And this,” you added, handing him your mirror compact. “You just press one of the sheets against your skin.”

Jack grinned kindly, then took one of the small sheets and pressed it on his forehead and his long, gorgeous nose. “You are a lifesaver,” he said. “There. This is much better. I’m almost as pretty as you now, huh?”

Your cheeks warmed and you looked down at your lap to hide your smile.

“Apologies, I’ve been told I'm a chronic flirt.”

“I don’t really mind,” you told him softly.

Jack pressed his lips together in a smile and nodded, then sat in the empty seat next to you. “Alright,” he said, “This is an odd question, but I’d like to toss it out there anyway because you seem to know what you’re doing with this kind of stuff. We’re short a makeup artist here at Night Owls. It’s unorthodox, I know, but you wouldn’t happen to be interested in–”

You gasp. “I’d love to. Yes.”

“--Being our makeup artist,” Jack finished, chuckling at your excitement.

“Sorry, I just - oh god, I’d really love to,” you gushed. Jack opened his mouth to speak further, but was called back to set.

“Stick around after the show, will you?” Jack winked.

“I will, Mr. Delroy.”

And that’s how it happened. The job was simple: A little powder here, moisturizer there, hairspray to seal it all off. Nothing complicated, and it paid well. Lots of perks and advantages, like meeting TV stars and music artists. You consider yourself lucky.

Perhaps your favorite part of the job is getting Jack ready for his shows. You’re no stranger to his handsomeness, but it’s special to experience it the way you do. To wash his face, moisturize it, paint a little makeup on his skin - as if he even needs it. “Make sure you cover up my crows feet, please, darling,” Jack said, pointing to his perceived flaws in the mirror. “Gosh, I’m getting so old. Don’t get old.”

“Noted,” you told him.

“And my hair, could you use a bit of that makeup to cover up my grays? They look so much worse on the screen.”

Your heart broke a little. He’s always asked you to cover his wrinkles, but covering his grays was new. You hate doing it. That’s your least favorite part of the job.

“Oh, but they don’t look so bad, Mr. Delroy.” You combed your fingers through his hair, inspecting the silvery strands he complained about. They look so beautiful against the inky black rest of his hair.

“Jack,” he corrected. “Just Jack. Who says they don’t look so bad?”

“I um…” you hummed, nervously messing with his hair. “Just fans, some of your fans kind of like it.”

“Do they, now?” Jack teased, his eyebrow cocked. He laughed at your bashfulness as you stuttered something in defense. So shy, so sweet.

Jack loves you all the same. He loves the special affection he gets from you as you get him ready each night, he loves getting to peek down your shirt. But he plays the gentlemanly act well, never going further than a little harmless flirting. It’s fun to make you squirm, tease you for your little crush on him. He’s not oblivious to it.

When the Night Owls theme finally ends and the studio lights go out, you get a phone call at your station. You hold the receiver up to your ear. “Hello?”

“It’s Shar,” the voice says. Sharon is your roommate, and also your ride to and from work most nights. She drops you off at the studio before her shift, then picks you up after the show ends each night. Tonight, however, she’s at a party. “I met this guy, and I wanna go home with him. So that means…” Sharon doesn’t finish the sentence. She sounds guilty.

“But you’re my ride, Shar,” you complain. “And they’re saying it’ll rain. What am I gonna do?”

“I promise I’m gonna make it up to you, okay? Don’t be mad. You’re not mad.”

“Sharon,” you groan.

Sharon says your name. “Just listen - he’s so fucking hot, seriously. He’s like a movie star.”

“A movie star, huh?”

“Don’t judge. Like you wouldn’t fuck Jack Delroy if you could. You know what, why don’t you ask him for a ride?” Sharon teases.

“No way, not happening. He’s married, and his wife is sick. Absolutely not.”

“Pussy.” Sharon pauses. “If you really don’t have another way home, I’ll come get you.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I can take the bus, I guess. But you owe me.”

“I do owe you,” Sharon says, “I owe you so much. I love you. Bye. Be safe.”

“You be safe,” you quip. “Condoms.”

Honestly, you’re not mad. Is it an inconvenience, sure. But Sharon works hard and deserves a nice night, and she’s right - you’d fuck your movie - television - star crush if you could too. You’ve taken the bus before, and it’s usually empty this time of night. It’ll be fine.

You grab your purse, pull your knit cardigan over your torso and walk out of the studio, down the hall, then take the elevator down to the lobby. Through light rain, you walk down the street until you’re at a bus station, then sit down on the bench. A gust of wind nearly knocks you over, causing you to shiver and pull your cardigan tighter around your body as you wait for the bus.

At least you don’t have to wait for long, though. Headlights approach, and the vehicle slows down. Except, it’s not the bus you were expecting. It’s a cerulean ‘74 Buick Electra, Jack’s car. He pulls over and leans across the seat to crank the window down. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for the bus,” you yell. Rain’s starting to come down harder, now, soaking your clothes. Jack makes a face and motions for you to get into his car. You wave him off, “It’s okay. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Nonsense! Get in the car.”

“It’s really okay, Mr. Delroy.”

Jack rolls his eyes. He gets out of his car and rounds the front of it, then takes your hand and pulls you up from the bench. “I’m not asking. I am telling you, as your boss, to get in my car.”

Jack opens the passenger door and ushers you inside, then shuts your door and gets into the driver’s seat. “It’s supposed to be the storm of the century out there, and you’re gonna let it blow you right away. Crazy girl.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy,” you murmur sheepishly.

Jack puts the car into first gear and takes off. “What’ve I told you about calling me Mr. Delroy? Jack, sweetie. Just Jack.”

“I’m sorry, M- Jack.”

“Too sweet for your own good, you know that? Always so polite. Where am I taking you, sweetheart?”

“It’s a little bit far. You’re just gonna take this road for a while,” you instruct. “And then I’ll tell you where to turn. I’m not in the city proper.”

“Must be nice,” Jack replies. “Quiet.”

You shrug. “Sometimes. Not usually. My roommate is kind of noisy.”

Jack chuckles. “The roommate days, gosh. I don’t miss those a bit.” He pauses, thinks of something to say to fill the silence. “You don’t usually take the bus, do you?”

“Not usually, no,” you answer. “My roommate gives me a ride most of the time. But she ditched me tonight, so…”

“That’s a real shame.”

The rain starts to pick up a little more. Jack squints and at the road and increases the speed of his windshield wipers. He tries talking to you, but you can’t hear him over the drumming of rain against his car. Thunder booms, the drumming becomes louder and the windshield is nearly impossible to see out of. Jack has slowed the car down to a crawl, but when hail begins to fall from the sky, he pulls over. He shifts his car into neutral, then pulls the emergency brake to keep the car from rolling. Jack leans in close so you can hear him, “We’re just gonna wait out the storm, okay? It’s not safe to keep driving.”

“Yeah, that seems smart,” you agree. You’re thankful Jack showed up when he did, and that he’s keeping you safe in his car. If you listen closely, you can hear the faint sound of music playing on his stereo. You still feel a little nervous, though. Maybe it’s the storm, or the jitters of being alone with Jack - older, married, handsome Jack. You shiver in your wet cardigan.

“You’re cold,” Jack says. He tugs on your sweater, “Let’s get this off of you, huh? Not gonna let you catch a cold on my watch.” He peels the sweater off of you entirely, then lays it in his backseat. “And look, watch this–” Jack presses a button on his dashboard, a little orange light glows beneath the tiny image of a seat. Within a few seconds, the leather underneath you begins to warm. “Neat, huh? That should warm you up nicely.”

You still look cold, it’s evident in the way you hold yourself. Shoulders curled inward, hands clasped together. Jack thinks about holding you close, using his body to warm yours, but decides against it. You want it too, but you’ll never initiate touch.

You look out of the raindrop-covered window at the creepy woods off to the side, the trees illuminated by the lightning. Jack sees the worry on your face reflected on the glass. “Everything alright, sweetie?”

“It’s just the woods,” you answer. “I don’t know. I don’t like it. I’ve heard about…I don’t know. Scary stuff happens there.”

“Like what?”

“Satanic rituals or something. The occult, that kind of stuff. I’ve heard about it on TV.”

Jack lies to assure you, “It’s all make-belive,” he says, pushing down his own memories of The Grove. The sickly sweet smell of decaying leaves, sticks and branches crunching beneath his feet. The cold, metallic cup against his lips, that awful taste of whatever it is he drank. “But don’t look at the woods. Just look over here, right at me.” Jack turns your face toward his, then taps your nose. “There’s that beautiful smile.”

You grin even wider. You know it’s just his nature, that it’s his job to be charming and likable, charismatic and sweet. It makes you feel so special and seen nonetheless.

Jack smiles too. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He admires the details in your face for a minute, your perfect nose, sparkling eyes, your pretty lips. His eyes travel lower, tracing the endlessly beautiful curves of your body - breasts, waist, hips, thighs. There’s a rip up high on your nylons, just below your ridden-up skirt. He furrows his brows and touches your bare skin with his finger, “What happened here?”

“Oh.” You touch the tear with your finger, just a hair away from Jack’s. “My cat, Felix. He ripped my tights.”

“Sounds like Felix is a real troublemaker, huh?”

“Oh, he can be,” you giggle quietly. “But I love him anyway.”

Jack keeps his finger on the hole in your nylons, now drawing lines back and forth over your thighs with the rest of his fingers. Little goosebumps erupt on your skin in their wake. “You’re still so cold, darling. What am I gonna do with you?” Another shrug, another shy smile. “Come here,” Jack whispers. He wraps his strong hands around your legs and pulls you across the seat so that your legs are lying across his, and your torso curled into his own. Fuck, he smells good. His cologne is musky and spicy and masculine. You’re so close, Jack can feel your heart pounding nervously. But he says nothing about it, doesn’t want to embarrass you. Instead, Jack just gazes at you warmly, still tracing patterns on your leg. “You’re such a gorgeous girl, have I ever told you that?” He pushes a bit of your hair behind your ear, sending tingles down your neck and spine.

“Jack,” you whisper, elongating his name. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious, darling. If only I were a younger man…If I hadn’t married…” He moves his hand from your ear to your mouth, pulling down on your bottom lip with his thumb. God, you’re so soft. Desire is building within Jack, taking control over his sensibilities. And you, too young and enchanted by Jack fucking Delroy to listen to any inhibitions in your head telling you that you should stop this.

Jack pushes his thumb past your lips and you suck on it gently, so gently, the blunt little edges of your teeth tickling his fleshy skin. Arousal quickly builds in Jack, the sensation overwhelming him and bubbling over. He pulls his thumb from your mouth and holds your cheeks in both of his hands, inching closer to you bit by bit. Jack licks his lips, he’s about to do it. Finally, he does. Jack closes the gap between you by pressing his lips against yours, kissing you softly. He’s relaxed and controlled, but the way you kiss him is desperate and a little tentative. In time and with encouragement from Jack, how he squeezes you and growls against your lips, you find your confidence. You kiss him fervently, tasting him, savoring the softness of his tongue.

Jack takes your hand and presses it against his warm bulge. You gasp, “But your wife–”

“Shh, quiet. She’s not here, now is she?”

“N-no,” you stutter.

“No. It’s just us. You-” Jack unzips his pants and pulls his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. He spits into your palm and has you hold his length, then closes his hand around yours. “-And me.”

With your hand under Jack’s, he pumps his cock. “Oh, that’s good. You’re my good girl,” he breathes.

Jack grips his cock tighter and kisses you again. “Oh, Jack,” you moan. Jack helps you to stroke him from base to tip, your pinky finger brushing against that patch of coarse hair at his pelvis, thumb rubbing over his weeping head.

“Just like this, darling. All the way up, all the way down. Just like this. You’re doing so well.”

Jack twitches in your hand as you feel every thick vein and ridge on his cock. He urges you to pump him faster and at the same time, touches you. He gropes your breasts first, breasts he’s dreamed of touching since he first laid eyes on you. He unbuttons your blouse and slides his hand beneath your bra to squeeze your flesh, tease your nipples. Jack relishes in your body, how supple, soft, warm and wanting you are. You touch him like you love him and Christ, Jack can’t wait to bury himself inside you. Feel that warm, wet embrace of a young woman’s cunt.

“Do you let other men touch you like this, sweetheart?” Jack asks, unzipping your skirt and shoving his hand down the front of your nylons. He toys with the arousal-dampened hair that’s spattered on your mound, then slips his fingers past your lips. “Older men, huh? Married men?”

“N-no, Jack. Just you. Only you.”

“Do you like being touched like this?” You stutter out a frantic, breathy ‘yes’. “Dirty girl. It’s always girls like you.”

Jack circles your clit with his fingertips, then presses two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. “Distracted, are we?” he murmurs as your hand that strokes his cock slows to a still, so focused on how Jack pleasures you that you forget about his needs.

“H - what?” Jack chuckles and gives your hand a squeeze to remind you. “Oh, I’m s - sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” God, you are such a precious girl, and Jack is a lucky man. He breaks away from you just for a moment to undress himself, shoving his pants down his thighs and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Once bare, Jack turns to you and finds that little tear in your nylons again, then rips the hole wider up the garment. He yanks the nylons and your panties off of your legs and puts them with the rest of his discarded clothes, tucking them away for later. He removes your skirt next, followed by your bra and your blouse. You breathe heavily as Jack takes in your naked form, even more beautiful than he pictured. He needs you now, needs to taste you.

Jack pushes you gently onto your back, laying you out across the bench seat before sinking to his knees on the floor of his Buick. He wraps his strong forearms around your still rain-cold thighs and pulls you close, close enough so that you can feel his hot breaths on your slick pussy. Jack could eat you alive right now.

He spits on your pussy, then rubs your folds with his fingers, paying special attention to your clit. He spreads your lips wide and admires your shiny, glistening center. “My, look at this mess,” Jack marvels, admiring your creamy arousal. He tastes you then, pressing a soft kiss against your core. Jack inhales deeply, taking in your scent, feeling your hair against his shaven face. His tongue darts from between his lips and he licks you up and down, dipping his tongue inside you.

“Jack, oh my - yes,” you gasp, your hands tugging on his graying strands of black hair. Jack slowly licks a long stripe up your seam with his tongue flat against you, all the way from your asshole to clit. “Jack.”

The mess he’s reduced you to. All broken moans, desperate, needy cries of his name. Jack smiles against your cunt and continues licking and lapping at the sensitive part of you. He traces your folds, sucking them between his lips. He draws circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue next, driving you wild. “You like this, darling, don’t you? You like having this pretty pussy eaten?”

All you can do is nod. Jack closes his lips around your clit and sucks, causing you to clamp your thighs around his head and pull his hair tightly between your fingers. Jack forces you apart so that all you can do is take it, all that relentless, smoldering pleasure.

Jack intensifies it all by pushing a finger inside you and curling it, stroking that sensitive part of you. Within seconds you’re coming, rocking your hips against his face as you ride out your high.

There’s barely a comedown. Jack crawls over your body, one foot planted on the floor of the car and the other kneeling on the seat. He reaches behind the front seat for his suit jacket and bunches it up, then fits it between your head and the passenger door. “Don’t want your pretty little head to get hurt is all,” Jack says.

He holds his cock between his thumb and his forefinger before he lines up with your entrance. His cock is big, perfectly lengthy and girthy. You tense up a bit as he fits his cockhead inside of you, “Easy, darling. Take it all for me,” he coos.

You inhale deeply, and on your exhale Jack pushes himself inside of you in full. “Ohhh,” you moan. It’s such a tight fit, he fills you so fully. The aching burn of the stretch takes time to dissipate as Jack rubs your hip. After a moment, Jack pulls out of you, then inches his way back in. Your face previously scrunched in pain is now relaxed, soft little noises of pleasure escaping your lips. “That’s it, good girl,” Jack says. “Wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Jack laces his fingers between yours and uses his other hand to brace himself on the back of the car seat. Jack begins thrusting, not quite fucking you gently. It builds quickly, the pace both harder and faster. Jack rocks his hips into you at that perfect angle to have you writhing on his cock, the head of it kissing the most sensitive place inside of you over and over. You bury your face into him, the hair on his chest tickling your face.

“Fuck,” Jack grunts, fucking you deeper. He knows he should be more gentle than this, but he can’t be helped. He loses himself inside of you, growling like an animal as he fucks his cock into you. You’re squirming beneath him, muscles tensing against his as you begin to cry, overwhelmed by it all. “Such a filthy fucking girl, crying on my cock. You’re okay, sweetie.”

Jack rolls his hips quickly and fluidly so that his pubic bone is grinding against your mound, the friction inching you closer and closer to a second release, but it isn’t quite enough. You rock your hips to match Jack’s thrusts, needing more against your clit. “M-More please, Jack,” you beg. “I wanna come, Jack, make me come again.”

While still fucking you, Jack spits onto two of his fingertips, then fits his hand between your bodies. He finds your sensitive bud and rubs it, using the momentum of his thrusts to bring you to climax once more. “Come for me, sweetheart. Give - fucking give it to me.”

Jack rounds your clit with his fingers, putting harder pressure against it. In moments, you’re coming for him again, this orgasm more intense than the last. Your moans are louder, more frantic. Your face scrunches in pleasure as you pulse around Jack’s cock, urging his own release along. “Good girl, good fucking girl.”

Jack growls into your ear as he spills into you, milking himself entirely. He fills you with his come, so warm inside you, the throbbing of his cock so pleasurable and satisfying. Dampened with sweat, Jack presses his forehead against yours as he fucks you through his orgasm, then slows to a still. He hisses a little when he pulls out of your cunt, his spend dripping from your hole onto the leather. Jack collects this mess with his finger, then pushes the digit into your mouth as he catches his breath.

It’s all quiet, save for a few scattered raindrops and the sound of you and Jack both catching your breath. Jack breaks the silence. “Well hey, how about that. The storm passed, huh? Was really something, too. I’m glad we pulled over,” Jack laughs nervously. He helps you dress yourself as best as he can, then haphazardly dresses himself too. You smile a little, and Jack touches your face. “You alright, darling?”

“I’m okay,” you answer, still a little tearful. Jack smiles sympathetically and pulls you into his side, then shifts his car into gear.

“Well, let’s get you home, then.”

TY for reading! Comments, reblogs, all of that good stuff would be so appreciated ♡

#jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #Jack delroy x reader smut #jack delroy smut #late night with the devil #david dastmalchian #david Dastmalchian characters #strang3lov3 #jack delroy/reader #jack delroy/you

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