#he needs to show he’s truly changed ya know

[obeymefanfiction]

Mammon: When Things Changed

Obey Me! Fanfiction Masterlist Featuring: Mammon X Neutral Reader Word Count: 1000 Disclaimer: Obey Me! characters are the rightful property of Solemare. Warnings: None.

You kissed that one time. It was late and it had been a long night.  Mammon was riding high from his winnings at the Casino. Even the curfew threat hanging over his head couldn't seem to deflate him tonight. Luckily you were there to save him from his own enthusiasm. Lucifer had sent you a message reminding you both that you needed to be at RAD student council in the morning. If you weren’t, he planned to place another curse enforced curfew on Mammon.  

You clearly remembered the last time that threat was carried out. So you promptly started using all your resources to get Mammon through the front door of The House of Lamentation ASAP.   Luckily it worked, and he had just walked into his room when he caught your wrist and pulled you after him.  "Mammon?" You yelped but immediately fell silent when he pressed you against the wall. His hands firmly encircled your wrists pinning them above your head. His body caged yours in, blocking any escape. Having him suddenly so close stunned you out of any objections you normally would have tossed his way.  "I did it tonight, didn't I? I showed ya how the Great Mammon can pull out all the stops. Give you the night o'yer life."   You couldn't help smiling back at him despite the odd situation. His gorgeous eyes were sparkling as he smiled back at you. His warmth was as contagious as his good mood.  "You did Mammon. It was amazing to watch you." "Yer lucky to be my human, aren't you? To have me as your first, right? The one you trust the most?" He released one of your wrists so he could cup your cheek with his hand. The warmth of his touch was so soothing you were almost sad when he placed his hand on the wall next to your head. Leaning in even closer. 

"That's right Mammon. I'm so lucky to have you protecting me. You truly are amazing. I promise I know that, and I've believed that for a long time."  You reached up to stroke his cheek with the back of your fingers, just the way he liked. You had learned that preference when he fell asleep on your lap during a study session. "Tonight was really fun, but with you it always is." You wanted him to know the truth. To see in your expression that you meant every word. Despite his unique approach to your friendship you had come to trust him. His loyalty and support were things you had come to treasure along with Mammon himself.  His smile seemed to hold an extra warmth tonight. His large blue eyes mirrored his delight at your praise. Instead of his usual bashful response he drew you closer into a hug.   Mammon's hugs were warm and familiar. You always felt safe and content when he hugged you like this. For the briefest moment the thought of staying right here, of asking him not to let go, flitted through the back of your mind. Of course, you couldn't ask that. Not really, and the thought made you sad. You and Mammon could only ever be human and demon. Even bound by your pact… you knew he had other concerns he didn't always share with you. Other aspirations that didn't involve you. There were times you wondered if that clever mind if his ever slept? The thought made you giggle just a little. "What're ya laughing at?" He asked playfully.  "Nothing important really. I'm just happy to be here with you. We always have so much fun, don't we?" You pulled back from his hug so you could look up at him again.  "We do, don't we? We-" He broke off as something in his expression changed. It was almost a softening… yet there seemed to be a flood of determination as well.  You hardly had a chance to blink before he leaned in and pressed a warm tender kiss against your lips. It wasn't the kind of kiss you'd have expected from Mammon. He was always so boisterous and energetic. Mammon and bold were practically synonyms. Especially tonight when he'd been swept up by his success. 

So, to have his mouth caress yours so tenderly… to have him be so careful with you as though you were something truly precious to him?  His kiss was more similar to his hugs. Gentle and protective you could hardly help how happy they made you. Likewise, you couldn't resist kissing him back. Reaching up your free hand to the base of his neck and leaning into the kiss hungrily. His phone went off seconds later. It was Lucifer demanding Mammon confess to one of his schemes and threatening his life if he didn’t make things right. He apologized and left in a hurry. Leaving you to wonder… how much had things just changed?

[breadandcircusandallthatjazz]

But has Roman actually owned up to his past behaviour yet? Has he even apologized?

[getonite]

(𝟏) 𝐌𝐒𝐆: I NEED LOVEAND AFFECTION.

"how they love to give you affection" — ( hajime umemiya, hayato suo, haruka sakura, jo togame, + choji tomiyama )

gn!reader ; fluff, slight cursing, metaphors, very light suggestion in suo and togame's parts. nothing just cute stuff, maybe ooc for togame?

forcing myself to write rn. wanna guess who i like the most lmao? smaus for them will be out soon! kuroshitsuji ver.

hugs

there's honestly no surprise here, hm? he's like a walking bear at times, specifically with his hugs. sure, at (rare) times he gives some encouraging hugs to the furin boys, but his bear-hugging arms are reserved for you.

umemiya has healing hugs. paired with his ability to sense a positive or negative change in others, he often surprises you with them, rubbing his face into you, swinging you around a bit with a bright smile on his face, hearty laughter from his lips.

he enjoys the way you feel wrapped in his touch. the way you lean your head against his chest or shoulder, sinking into his embrace.

it's a way he feels extremely close to you, not like how he wants (he wants to melt into your skin), but it's close enough to provide the both of you with the comfort and intimacy the both of you crave.

light kisses

despite the way he seems, he quite enjoys kisses. specifically, giving them. he enjoys giving and recieving affection equally, though there's something special about those little kisses he gives to the palm of your hand, or your knuckles. he peppers them everywhere, but those are his two favorite spots.

his eye watches the way you get flustered. especially, when he decides to make a show of it and bows to one knee to kiss you. "my liege," he'd joke, laughing at your embarrassed reaction.

he loves the way you jump, goosebumps along your arms from the way his lips ghost along your skin, tickling the small hairs on your arms. his entire aim with affection is making you flustered.

if he truly wishes to fluster you, maybe make you a bit hot, he breaths on ear, the air tickling your skin. he presses his lips to the tip of your ear, whispering a comment of praise. it amuses him how you jump and crumble from such a small action.

of course, he plays dumb, pressing another light kiss to your skin. "i haven't a clue what you mean, love."

anything (handholding).

anything flusters him. he doesn't typically initiate intimacy, it's normally you. so he doesn't have a particular favorite thing to do to give you affection. the closest he'll get to initiating something, is handholding. so perhaps that's his favorite to give you?

a combination of hugs and kisses

togame is slow-paced, he has a lazy energy to him more often than not.

he lazily wraps his arms around your waist, grunting as he pulls you back with him as he sits down. he smiles at the shriek you let out when you fall backwards with him. "calm down, will ya?"

togame bury's his face into your neck, securely holding you close to him. his lips press light kissed from behind your ear and to your shoulder, his thumbs sneaking beneath your shirt to rub circles against your skin.

there's nothing more that he loves than hugging you close to him and feeling the heat of your body. especially your neck when he peppers kisses on them. the press of your thighs against his, your back to his chest. his hands drift your thighs, squeezing them lightly, "i hope you know, i love you..." he often falls asleep like this, lightly snoring against your back, tugging you onto his lap so you don't leave.

a combination of handholding and hugs

choji is the type of guy to jump and hug you. he wraps his arms so tight, both you and togame have to tell him to let go. the both of you often fall over from the force of him. it's more of his favorite way to greet you than favorite way to show affection.

aside from surprise hugs and clinging to you, he likes to hold your hand. he's perpetually stuck in the childish way of aggressively swinging your arms back and forth as he does, happily smiling an apology when you reach your destination.

he likes to squeeze your hand at times, either to comfort himself, or you.

choji leans close, rubbing his face against you, proving to those you walk around that you are his. there's no shortage of glares he gives people who stare too hard or talk too long ro you.

regardless, he loves being right next you; keeping you close while proving you're together. and as far as cuddling goes??? he's wrapped around you like a fucking monkey. he is NAWT letting you go once he has his hands on you.

[rel124c41]

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.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hi, i hope you’re doing well :) Can i order sicilian crust with alfredo sauce. For the toppings can i have red peppers, mushrooms, feta cheese, roasted artichokes, bbq chicken, sun dried and tomatoes. To drink i will have water, dr.pepper, and truly with dessert and lewis hamilton please and thank you so much💋💋💋

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian dating Alfredo sweet sex red peppers “No. Go change” mushrooms "Wrong, wanna try again" feta “God, I love watching your makeup get ruined” roasted artichokes “im gonna put a baby in you” bbq chicken “Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby” sundried tomatoes "Gonna look so pretty pregnant" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" water breeding kink dr pepper dirty talk truly belly bulge dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton

Lewis x longtime GF! reader

TW - riding, unprotected sex, breeding kink, missionary, dirty panties

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Love, is this okay?" I ask for a second time tonight. Lewis and I were gonna be going to a post-season party now that everyone was back in Monaco and wanted to celebrate the end of another great season.

“No. Go change” Lewis tells me roughly making me groan and roll my eyes.

"Baby, what is wrong with this one?" I ask softly while approaching him. The first outfit I came out in was just my lingerie wanting to tease Lewis but this was what I had been planning to wear and I was a bit confused as to why he was saying no.

"Doesn't match my outfit," Lewis tells me softly making me laugh and shake my head.

"So glad it was because the color of my dress was wrong and not you becoming an insecure man worried about my legs showing," I tell him softly making him scoff jokingly before we both break into a small fit of laughter.

"Never that, can I pick," Lewis asks with a boyish glint in his eye making me smile softly and nod my head yes. Lewis softly pushes me off his lap before we both make our way into our large shared closet where he instantly starts looking for a dress that would match his outfit.

"How about this?" Lewis asked softly while holding up a light blue dress with a deep V neckline that showed off my tits and curves perfecting. It was one of Lewis's favorite dresses I have ever owned so I'm not in the least bit surprised.

"I don't know. I feel like it shows too much skin," I tell Lewis softly while walking over to the other side of my closet where I pull out a dress in the same shade of blue but a bit more modest making Lewis's face turn upwards in disgust.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lewis says almost in a joking manner.

"I picked this one 'cause I wanna show you off tonight," Lewis explains softly making me smile and nod my head.

"Fine, only because we are celebrating you and your final season with Mercedes coming to an end," I tell him softly while slipping off the first dress I had on and letting Lewis help me into the dress he had picked.

When Lewis had the dress all the way zipped up we both walked over to the full-length mirror where we both looked into it and smiled.

"God, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen," Lewis groans softly making me smile.

"You really know your stuff," I joke while stroking my hands down my dress making sure it's laying on my body just right.

"We leave in 30 minutes, are you all ready?" Lewis asked softly while still longuing in just his boxers knowing he will only need a couple of minutes to throw his outfit on.

"Ya, just need to put my lipstick on," I tell him softly while making my way to where he was sitting on the bed before crawling into his laps.

"30 minutes is enough time to let me ride you," I saw with a smirk making Lewis groan and helps rut my hips into his hardening cock.

"Fuck, you little minx," Lewis says with a smirk making me whimper and pull off the dress Lewis had just helped me pick out.

Once I'm down into just my thong I feel Lewis pull his hard cock out of his boxers making me whimper when I see how hard he already is.

"Go on," Lewis says with a smirk while rubbing a few fingers through my soaked folds making me whimper as I situate myself over his cock before sinking down slowly.

"Oh god," I whimper once Lewis is fully seated in my pussy. I start rocking my hips trying to stretch myself as much as possible on Lewis's cock before I start bouncing.

“Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby,” Lewis groaned out making me whimper and nod my head.

"Yes cum in me tonight Lewis, please," I beg bouncing faster trying to hit all the right stops before Lewis roughly flips us over so I am now on my back letting Lewis fuck into me making me whimper.

"Fuck, I can see you in me," I gasp when I look down and notice Lewis's cock is creating a bulge in my stomach everytime he pushes in.

"Soon, instead of my cock giving you a bump it's gonna be my babies," Lewis groan speeding up his actions making me cry out when i feel his fingers on my clit.

"Oh god, it's too much," I gasp through tears pouring down my face making Lewis smirk at the sight.

“God, I love watching your makeup get ruined,” Lewis comments when he sees my tears starting to streak my mascara.

"Fuck Lewis, slow down a bit," I groan which only makes Lewis speed up sending me into a quick and powerful orgasm.

"Oh god," I cry out as Lewis continued fucking me through my first orgasm of the night.

"Lewis, hurry I have to fix my makeup," I whine when I notice he is in no way slowing down.

"Wrong, wanna try again," Lewis groans when he hears the mention of my makeup being fixed.

"Just take it off then. I'm not done with this sweet little pussy," Lewis continues making my head spin from all the pleasure.

"Lew, I feel like I might cum again," I whine out making Lewis speed up his thrust a bit.

"Fuck I'm gonna put a baby in you," Lewis groans when he can feel himself getting close to the edge as well.

"Cum with me," Lewis says roughly before he starts spilling his seed deep into my pussy sending me into another screaming orgasm. Once Lewis helps the both of us ride out our orgasm he quickly moves my thong back into place to capture as much of his cum as possible.

"Don't you fucking dare change those! Want you to feel my cum all night, remind you that you're mine," Lewis tells me while leaning down and kissing my lips before finding my discarded dress on the ground and helping me back into it before I head into the bathroom to see the damage done on my makeup.

It wasn't the worst it could have been but it could be better. I quickly touch up my makeup slightly keeping some smudge mascara around my eyes. To anyone that wasn't Lewis and I they would assume I was going for a smoked-out eyeliner look but Lewis and I would know the truth that it came from crying while he filled up my pussy.

"Gonna look so pretty pregnant," Lewis said softly while coming into the bathroom and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"You think it's only gonna take one time," I tease with a raised brow.

"Oh don't worry I'm gonna fill that pussy up every day until I see a positive test," Lewis said with a smirk making me laugh lightly.

"When we get home can we have a serious conversation about this. I don't wanna get my hopes up if you're not serious," I tell Lewis softly making him smile and nod his head.

"well, to ease your mind I am very serious. I will be the father of your children and you're the only woman worthy to carry on the Hamilton legacy. But yes we can have a conversation tonight," Lewis tells me softly pulling me in for a quick kiss before we got a call letting us know our driver was here.

[robo-writing]

Toxic ex-boyfriend Simon 🫠🫠

It’s the same routine ever since you broke up with Simon. Call after call, decline after decline, you’ve changed your number twice now and he’s still managed to find you.

He doesn’t take no for an answer, though I suppose you knew this already—The break-up was a pretty big indicator of that, or in his words, your “break.”

“You’re just a bit overwhelmed,” he said to you, not budging a little even with your full weight on him, trying and failing to push him out of your apartment. It’s as if you weren’t even there. “Never had a man treat you like you need to be treated, scared of new sensations?”

That certainly wasn’t the problem, but it was in one ear and out the other with Simon. Honestly, you’re not even sure if it even managed to go in one ear.

“Please, don’t make this difficult,” you begged, giving up on your attempt to push him out. “Just…leave. I don’t want to call the cops.”

At the mention of police he laughs, almost mockingly. It almost scares you.

“Alright then, I’ll entertain your little tantrum for now,” he says, stepping out into the hallway. “But when you’ve finally come to your senses, know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

A pause, and then: “Of course I’ll have to teach you a lesson about being a brat when you do, but you always love my lessons don’t you pet?”

Weeks later his words still ring in your ears.

Weeks later your phone still rings in your hands.

You don’t need to check the caller ID—it’s always an unknown number, but you always know who it is. You let it go to voicemail like usual, but today is a first—a small notification being visible from the corner of your eye.

One voicemail left by: Unknown Caller

Your curiosity peaks, with stubbornness quelling it soon after. It’s a voicemail from your ex, what could he possibly say to you that you haven’t heard a million times before.

Still, it eats away at you. It wasn’t like him to leave a message when he could just call. Hell, knowing him he’s more likely to show up at your door.

It lingers in your mind. You think about it for the rest of the day and it’s now you truly understand the plight of the cat when curiosity seems so enticing.

You relent when you lie awake restless, a losing battle as you find your inbox and hit play.

Your ears are greeted with ambient silence, unsure if maybe Simon left his voicemail open on accident. The moment the thought crosses your mind you hear it, the distinct rumble you know as wholly and purely Simon. There’s a shuffle, then his voice cuts through the empty air.

“Hey there pet. Missed ya.”

You find your eyes rolling as he continues.

“I know, I know, you want to keep me away,” he says breathlessly. ���But I’m not sure how long I can keep playing this game.”

There’s a rustling, a deep inhale followed by the sound of something squirting.

“Had to take a minute, forgot I had these,” he says, then takes a moment to laugh. “I’m talking like you can see me, so lemme paint you a nice, clear picture.”

A rather familiar sound of skin against skin has your face growing hotter. You’re in disbelief, willing to deny what you think you’re hearing until Simon confirms it for you.

“Hear that, pet?” He growls. “That’s all me. Could be yours too, if you’d stop being such a fuckin’ brat.”

The sound of his hand is slow, methodical in his purpose. “Nice and wrapped up in those panties I love so much. Pink and satin, the ones you got for valentines—you know the ones.”

A sigh, as if he’s reminiscing. “God, you were a real animal that day. Purred so nicely when I stuffed that cunt of yours.”

Whatever anger you have towards him for stealing your underwear is soon replaced with lust, the sound of the fabric in sync with his hand enough to have you squirming in your bed. His voice like gravel echoes through the speaker, even worse is the slick sounds of what you’re certain is your panties stroking his cock, stained with pre-cum.

More noises, his breathing getting faster and faster. “So fuckin’ soft. Feels good wrapped around me, reminds me of when you’d get so needy you’d need to grind yourself on my thigh.”

Long stretches of time where all you can hear are his breathless moans and his hand moving faster. On instinct your thighs close around nothing as you listen to your ex-boyfriend jerk off in your ears.

“Should see me right now, nice and hard just for you,” he gasps.

Your pussy throbs as if on instinct.

One of your favorite traits about Simon was his undeniably large cock, how it would blush the prettiest shade of rouge at the sight of you, how you struggled to take it every time and how you could feel it in your chest when he fucked you. It’s all you can think about now, any reason you had for breaking up seemingly lost to you.

Another laugh drags you from your thoughts. “You were thinking about me just then, weren’t you?”

Embarrassment burns through your body. You have half a mind to turn off your phone, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You can practically hear the smugness in his tone.

“Don’t worry, I’m thinking of you too.”

You hate the fact that he’s right. You hate the fact that he knows you so well. You hate the fact that you’re still listening.

You especially hate the fact you want him to do something about the increasing wetness in your panties.

“Just the thought of you, your body—that tight cunt of yours…” He cuts himself off with a moan, the distinct sound of slickness echoing in the speakers.

“God, just thinking about how hungry you must be for my cock…the things I’ll do when I get my hands on you.”

The laugh that emits from him is unhinged, animalistic. It excites you, as guilty as you feel for admitting it.

The sound of his hand speeds up as he talks. “You been taking good care of her in my stead? Touching yourself, getting her nice and prepared for when I come back? I’d hate to re-train her back into my shape.”

He’s so damn vulgar and you love it.

“Just remember, when you’re awake at night, and your thighs are pressing together so pretty, begging for something between them..”

His voice is clear as day, dark and unchained. It sends a full-bodied jolt through your own body, just barely resisting the urge to call.

“…That my cock will always be better than your hand.”

[fandomfloozy]

Oh, I'm pretty boy?

pairing: katsuki bakugo x sick!reader

c/w: fluff, early relationship, petnames (katsuki calls reader babe, reader evidently calls katsuki pretty lol), sprinkles of hispanic!reader/spanish-speaking!reader, gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

~°•*~

You've been sick the last few days.

You're on the tail-end of recovery now, thank god, but for most of the week you've been bed-ridden, and snotty, and sweaty, and hot, and cold. It's been miserable, if you're being honest. With the light at the end of the tunnel in view, you're glad the worst of it is over.

There has been one upside to being sickly, though--one aspect that makes you wish you could be sick just one more day: Ever since you fell ill, since the moment he'd heard you were taking leave off work to rest at home for a bit, you've been under the thorough care of your very own, self-appointed nurse, Katsuki.

There's this saying: "You'll never truly know someone well enough until you've seen them struggle financially, grieve a lost loved one, or witness them while they're sick."

Your relationship is new. Not early days, but still far too soon for him to be seeing you sick, for your liking.

But when he showed up at your door a couple days ago--masked up, worry-eyed, and holding all the essentials for treating a typical head cold--how could you refuse him?

And to be fair, he's been a rock. He's changed your compresses (water bowl kept at optimal temperature), given you medicine in intervals (timed and administered to the MINUTE), and even cooked you palatable meals (anything you could keep down, but namely the caldo recipe he got from your mom when he asked her what you ate when you're sick). He did everything short of rubbing Vick's vapo rub on you (not for lack of trying), all while keeping a level head and brushing aside your concerns over feeling like you're burdening him.

"You're my partner," he'd say matter-of-factly. "This is my job, ain't it?"

A rhetorical question. He said it as if it was an irrefutable truth, as if he hadn't even considered an alternative, as if the very thought of leaving you to fend off this cold by yourself was an affront to your relationship, scowl on his face and all.

His bedside manner needed work, but when he said those words to you... let's just say the flush rising up your face probably had nothing to do with the cold.

So, yeah. While you're happy to be feeling better, you can't help being a little disappointed that the doting will soon come to an end.

Which is why you now sit with your head resting in your hands, elbows on the kitchen bar, making the most of admiring a now unmasked Katsuki as he cooks your dinner on what will be the last of your "sick days."

You're unashamed in your ogling. You feel bold. It might be the relaxed atmosphere. It might be the way Katsuki let you wear his hoodie tonight... It might just be the cold medicine. You feel dozy, comfy, and so dopily content as you watch your boyfriend chop vegetables.

He does it with ease--so practiced that it's like he's on autopilot. His defenses are down, completely in his element.

"'Ya sure you want all this cooked in with your rice?" Now that you're feeling better, he's less inclined to hold his tongue about his thoughts on your childhood dishes.

You yawn and nod. "Mhm, it's the way my mami always makes it."

"Just sayin', I could make ya rice without all this extra stuff."

"It's a good thing you're not making rice, Katsuki." You pout dramatically for emphasis. "You're making sopita."

"Sopita," he repeats, shaking his head with a sideways grin. "Alright, babe. I've got you covered. Sopita coming right up."

You switch to resting your cheek in one hand, continuing to observe your boyfriend as he works. He looks so serene this way. With his smug little half smile, even his expression screams "relaxed"--very unlike his usual frown and furrowed brow.

You're not used to seeing him like this. Sure, you've seen him in a good mood, upbeat, excited, even downright elated, like on the day you agreed to go out with him.

Katsuki has always been an... expressive person, even when it doesn't grant him the most flattering of expressions.

Right now, though, while he's contented and caring for you in the comfort of your own home, his features are on display in such a way that you wonder if the cough syrup really is getting to you.

He looks almost...

Pretty...

"You're starin'."

You know you are. "Sorry," you laugh. "I was just thinking how it's a shame you have such a cara de fuchi most of the time, Kats. You're so pretty."

His head snaps toward you. "Fucking WHAT." The furrow is back in his brow. If you were paying proper attention, you'd notice the flush rising up his neck and the back of his ears, but your eyelids are feeling a bit heavy at this point.

You wave your free hand dismissively. "You know, cara de fuchi," you explain. You're sure you've used this phrase in front of him before. "Like you're a sour puss, you pull faces--"

"I'm not fucking pretty," he interrupts.

You open your eyes slightly to squint at him. "Pfft," you laugh. "Has no one ever told you that?"

"Hell, no." He turns back to the task at hand. Grumbling under his breath.

With his signature grimace making its return, the allure is gone; but now that you've seen it, you can't unsee it. He's beautiful. His eyes are a nice shape, and the crimson color of his irises is striking against his light complexion. The way his hair falls just above is strong browbone makes you want to push it back and rub at the scrunch between his brows. And you know he has soft lips, but on top of that, they're such a nice shade of pink. His jawline. His cheekbones. His chin.

It's a fundamental truth. Katsuki Bakugo is pretty.

You fold your arms on the island and press your cheek into the crook of your elbow. "I'm sure people would tell you more often if all the pretty wasn't covered up by your perpetual stank face."

Cue said stank face. He bumbles over his words in frustration for a second. "You're sick and loopy, stop bein' weird."

You giggle. "And you have a nice face when you're not acting chronically disgusted by the world."

He looks at you properly and you smile to yourself in pure delight and fondness.

"You're pretty when you're happy, Katsuki."

He deliberates over it for a moment, stank face semi relaxing. He's about to say something else when you cut into the silence with another yawn.

His gaze softens into an amused smirk as he reaches for your cheek and pinches softly. "Alright, alright. Don't fall asleep on me just yet, you gotta eat properly before goin' to bed."

You swat his hand away and rise to attention while rubbing your eyes. "Okay, okay. I'm up."

He smiles and goes back to cooking your half-prepared meal. "Ponte las pilas, or whatever the hell your mom says when you start lazin' around."

You huff at that. "I regret teaching you Spanish, you always pick up the worst phrases."

Katsuki barks out a laugh and you can't help the snort that follows as you giggle right along with him.

You two settle into the monotony of the last evening of your first of many sick days together. You're sure your boyfriend has had more than enough of witnessing you sick to satisfy stipulations. Suffice to say that he felt he knew you and your "sleepy freak tendencies" a bit better now.

There's definitely an addendum you'd make to that old saying, though: You'll never know how pretty someone is until you've seen them care for you while you're sick.

~°•*~

divider via cafekitsune

gif via ara-kan (deactivated)

[xostarr]

Just For Me

✧ FEATURING: Baji x fem! reader

✧ WARNINGS: smut, degradation, cheating, breading

✧ PROMPT: no prompt

“You're wet.”

“No I'm not, Keisuke.”

“Then what's this?”

You were wet - so fucking wet. Your folds glistened as Baji ran a hand through them, your fluids dripping down the insides of your thighs and down onto his wrist… but if Baji asked you weren’t wet. The fluids coming from your body were simply a misunderstanding. They were not because of him and they were not for him. Your body belonged to someone else. You weren’t for Baji… no matter how much you wanted to be.

“Do you get this wet for him or is this just for me?”

You're shaking your head as he speaks, silently begging him to stop as he swipes two fingers over your entrance, but you both know you don’t really want him to stop. If you did you’d do a hell of a lot more than shake your head. In fact, if you really didn’t want him to do this, you wouldn't have invited him over for dinner in the first place. After all, you both knew damn well it wasn’t just dinner you wanted when you called him out of the blue, practically begging him to come to your home.

“Stop shaking your head. You know it's true. You want my fingers inside ya’ so bad. You’re needy like that, aren’t ya, slut?”

“No, Keisuke! I don-”

You wanted to argue, to tell Baji that you weren’t needy and that you didn’t want him, that you belonged to your husband and you would wait however long you needed to for him to come home… but you couldn’t. Baji’s fingers were inside of you before you could even manage to get one sentence out and suddenly your tune was changing.

“Ahh, not so talkative now, huh? What? You still want me to stop? You still want me to go home?”

You wanted to say ‘yes’, to send him on his way before the guilt and regret of your actions could set in, but the way his fingers were shifting inside of you, stretching your hole in a way you had been craving for the weeks your husband had been gone, had you doing just the opposite.

“N-No, Kei. Stay. P-Please stay.”

“Only if you answer my question.”

You were dripping, legs shivering and shaking as the tip of his middle finger hit and rubbed that spot deep inside of you that you could never seem to reach on your own. Your mind was going blank, your body going numb. The last thing on your mind were Baji’s stupid questions and queries. His teasing was of no concern to you… at least, it wasn’t - not until you were suddenly empty.

“God, such a needy bitch, aren’t you? Don’t whimper like that. Just answer the question.”

Baji was quick to lift you from your seat, throwing your plate onto the floor, out of the way as he shoved your chest down onto the table, leaving your ass up in the air for Baji to fondle with one hand as he unzipped his pants with the other.

“You aren’t getting this until you answer, and I know just how bad you want it.” Baji said, releasing his cock from the confines of his pants and laying it on the curve of your ass, smacking it against your skin, showing you just how hard he had gotten for you as he asked once again, “So, do you get this fucking wet for him or just for me, baby?”

Baji didn’t have to ask for a third time. This time you answered and you answered honestly, because the moment Baji’s hard cock lined up at your entrance between your wet folds, the moment you felt the weight of his tip pushing against you, stretching your entrance to adapt to his girth you stopped caring what your husband would think, you stopped thinking about what he would say if he saw you now… you stopped thinking at all. All that was on your mind was just how truly right Baji was. You were needy and lonely and wet and you did want somebody to fuck you… not just somebody. You wanted Baji to fuck you.

“Just for you, Baji. Only for you. Please.”

“Please what, pretty? What do you want from me?”

You barley got the words ‘fuck me’ out of your lips before the entirty of Baji’s length was deep inside of you, shifting and stiring up your insides as it carved out a path to your cervix. You felt full - fuller than you ever had. Baji could tell by the way your hands grasped tightly at the table cloth. He could tell by just how still you were standing, like you were afraid it would hurt to move.

“Damn, does he ever even fuck you? You’re- Damn, you’re the tightest I’ve ever had.”

And he means it when he says it. Good god, Baji can barely move his cock. Pulling an inch out and pushing it back in is a challenge, but one he is more than willing to accept, because you feel so damn good, and warm, and wet. Baji can audibly hear the sounds your body is making as he makes his way in and out of you, loosening you up bit by bit, inch by inch.

“That's it. That's better, baby. Loosen up for me. Let me make you cum.”

You should have been sad, full of regret and shame. You should have hated yourself. You should have been begging Baji to leave. You should have been calling your husband and begging for his forgiveness. Instead all you could do was beg for Baji’s cock, eye watering and tears dripping down onto the dinner you had cooked for another man.

“K-Keep going… Please! I-I’m gonna cum!”

God, you couldn’t help it. Baji was so much longer than your husband, hitting all the spots deep inside of you that you didn’t even know needed to be touched. He pounded into you harder and faster than your husband ever had or ever could, too, causing you to moan and whine loud enough for all the neighbors to hear - neighbors that knew your husband wasn’t home, who knew it couldn’t be the man you had married making you feel so good, but you didn’t care. Baji was all you cared about right now.

“I’m close. You gonna let me cum inside ya’? Gonna let me knock you up before your damn fucking husband ever could?”

You should have said ‘no’. You should have shoved him off of you, but instead you pulled him closer, rotating your body to face Baji and letting your lips hit his as his orgasm hit him like a truck. And you didn’t regret it - not when you begged him to cum inside of you in between sloppy kisses, not when you felt his load erupt inside of you, not when you tightened around him, milking him for every drop of cum he had - not even when he pulled out and you watched as his cum dripped from your hole onto the cold hard-wood floor.

“God damn… I hope your husband goes out of town more often, don’t you?”

2024 © all works belong to xostarr. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[nickfowlerrr]

long way home

GIF by lilacevans

pairing: dark!lee bodecker x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY. cnc smut. spanking. unprotected sex. use of the word ‘daddy’ but not pertaining to lee. fluffy ending!

words: 4.7k

notes: truly cannot believe i finally finished this lol. this is as self indulgent as ever but hey that’s the way fanfic should be imo. 😌 anyway! thank you in advance for reading, and i hope you enjoy!

comments and reblogs always welcome and always appreciated. 🫶🏻

The sirens that start sounding just moments after you pass the curve of the desolate road have your heart lurching and stomach dropping.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you mutter pathetically as you try to take a deep calming breath.

You signal you’re going to pull over and the sheriff’s car follows behind you.

It’s late and there aren’t any other cars around as the sun sets on the horizon. It’s nearly 90° out, cooler than the day had been earlier, but the heat is still suffocating. You can’t fathom wanting to pull someone over right now.

You get your wallet out and grab the envelope that holds your insurance and technically out of date registration. You’re sure you know what this will be about.

As you watch the Sheriff emerge from his cruiser, you almost pity him as he wears what you can only assume is a very scratchy uniform. Long sleeves, pants, and a ridiculous looking hat. You don’t really feel bad though, he did this to himself.

As he approaches the back of your car, he squints as he looks into your vehicle. His hands find his belt as he saunters closer, a toothpick in his mouth that he plays with.

Your anxiousness builds as he takes his sweet time getting to your window.

You greet him with a forced smile as he leans down, slapping one hand on the hood of your car while he peers down at you, getting closer.

“Hi,” you offer timidly.

“Evenin’, darlin’,” he drawls as he takes you in; clear blue eyes roving you up and down, twinkling with something…off putting. When his gaze meets yours again, his tongue moves his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “You know why I stopped you?”

“My tags,” you answer, earning a squint from him.

“Your tags?”

“Was that,” your eyes round, “not why?”

He chuckles, “You got a light out, darlin’.”

“Oh,” you mutter.

“Yeah,” he responds dully. “Expired tags, ya said?”

“Well,” you start, “they’re not exactly expired. The ones on my car are old, but the registration was paid for. I just don’t have the stickers yet,” you try to explain.

“Long way from home, aren’t ya?”

“Uhm,” your brows furrow before you can school yourself at his change of subject, “I- yeah. Just passing through on my way back.”

“Hm.”

It’s quiet between you as the air grows tense. You don’t know what to do or say, you just wait for him to continue.

“If I run your plates, am I gonna be catchin’ you in a lie?”

You stare dumbly for half a second. “Uhm, I don’t… I dont know how it’ll look or show up. I need to get my car smogged before I can get the new tags,” you admit, “but the registration is paid for. My dad paid it, he sent me the receipt and everything, I can pull it-“

“Daddy’s girl, huh?”

Your words cut off instantly but your lips stay parted in a sort of shock. Did he actually just say that? Ew. Your stomach roils at his words. At the way he’s looking at you, leaning into your car.

You titter, an uneasy sound escaping you as you give a wince of a smile. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this?

“I,” you breathe, don’t make matters worse, “yeah, I guess I am,” you shrug, offering a close lipped attempt at a smile.

Your response gets a wicked grin from him as he laughs and it makes you feel disgusting. You have to suppress the shudder that threatens to give away your agitation.

He isn’t an ugly guy, far from it if you’re being honest, but this is entirely inappropriate. You’re all alone out here with this man, a sheriff at that, and his creeping on you is verging from annoying to scary.

“Well unfortunately for you, sweetheart, I don’t think your daddy’s gonna be able to get you outta this one.”

His blue eyes are darker now and his voice is lower as he drawls his words.

Your heart stutters in your chest, squeezing as anxiety seizes you.

“What, what do you mean, sir?” you eek out through your tight throat, lashes fluttering as you search his eyes for any sort of humor, a sign that things aren’t as serious as he’s just made them sound.

“Well, you got a tail light out, old tags on your car, and your registration may be paid but that doesn’t mean it’s been renewed. I’d hate to have to take you in for somethin-“

“Take me in?” your voice raises despite yourself, “why would you take me in? You can just give me the tickets, I’m not arguing, I-“

“Did it sound like I was finished talkin’, darlin’?” he says, voice level but firm as he eyes you sharply.

Your mouth is open in your stupor before you answer, “No, sir,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“As I was sayin’,” he cuts you off, spitting out his toothpick at his feet before his gaze cuts back up to you. He kisses his teeth as he stares down at you, “I’d hate to have to take you in over somethin’ that could be…easily resolved.” He tilts his head, giving you a knowing look.

You’re disgusted.

This man is disgusting.

But there is no way he’s insinuating what he seems to be insinuating.

“Right, sir. I will get everything taken care of right away,” you nod with an anxious smile. Maybe playing dumb is the way to go here.

He tsks and your stomach drops right along with your smile.

“You know, the law here states that a driver gettin’ pulled over in an unregistered vehicle can result in said vehicle bein’ towed and said driver gettin’ their license suspended.”

You swallow hard as you let him continue, trying to will away the welling tears threatening to form in your eyes while you work to steady your breathing.

He sticks his palm out expectantly. Your brows furrow as you look at him until he instructs you. “License, darlin’.”

You scramble and find it in your wallet, handing it to him. His hand closes on yours as you place it in his hand and you force yourself not to jerk away too harshly as you pull your hand from his.

He examines your license as you wait with bated breath. You wish you could just put your car in drive and forget this stop ever happened.

“Really are a long way from home,” he muses. He drawls your name and flashes his eyes back to you for a split second. “Hm. Little old to have your daddy payin’ your bills, don’t ya think?”

You don’t respond. Shame and guilt at the reminder of your folly nipping at you again - worse now under the gaze of this man. You look at his badge as he keeps reading your license. Bodecker.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not judgin’ ya,” he smiles as he hands your license back to you, held between two fingers. You try to meet his eye but your embarrassment and anxiety keep you from holding it long as you slowly reach to take it back.

“I’ve always been under the belief that pretty ladies like yourself shouldn’t have to take care’a things like that on their own. Should have a man to take care of ‘em. 

Seein’ as that man’s still your daddy, I’m assumin’ you haven’t found someone for yourself yet,” he eyes you, “now how’s a gorgeous girl like you single?”

Your skin is crawling but deep down you’re almost grateful for the distraction from your law breaking. 

Almost.

“Sorry, sir, officer-“

“Sheriff,” he corrects.

“Sheriff. Am I getting ticketed, or…?” you trail off. Agitation ticks in his jaw and you regret not playing along and answering his question immediately.  “It’s just, it’s a long drive and I was hoping to make it home by tomorrow night,” you swallow hard, unconsciously clenching your jaw as you tense up.

“Right,” he scoffs. “Well…” he takes a deep breath, “looks to me like we got two options here, darlin’. And ticketing ain’t one of ‘em. Why don’t you do me a favor,” he says, stepping away from your door slightly, “turn off the engine and step outta the vehicle for me.”

“Sheriff?'' Your voice is quiet, undertoned with the terror you feel creeping up your spine. Why do you need to get out of your car? Why did your taillight have to go out? Why did you have to open your stupid mouth before he even told you what he was pulling you over for? Why did you have to drive through this stupid little town to begin with!

“I’m bein’ nice, sweetheart. Now you can either get outta the vehicle or I can remove you from it and put you in the back’a my own.” The turn of his voice, the dark shift in his eyes, you don’t have it in you to not listen to him.

You shut off the car, unbuckling your seatbelt, and slowly grab the door handle, breathing deeply as you push it open and step out.

God, it’s hot. You hold back a whine at the humidity that surrounds you and shift uncomfortably before the sheriff. He’s tall, and ten times more intimidating now that there’s not a metal barrier between you. You pull on the strap of your tank top as you wait for his next instruction.

“Keys,” he orders, holding out his hand.

You’re frozen despite the heat as you look at him with rounded, unsure eyes. You clutch them tighter in your hand.

You stutter a breath as he steps closer to you. He stares in your eyes as he grabs your hand and takes the set of keys easily before he strides past you back to his cruiser. You follow him with your eyes, turning your head to watch him over your shoulder.

He throws your keys into his car along with his hat before he shuts the door and comes back toward you.

“Two options,” he repeats as he stands behind you. “I think I know which one would be best for both of us.”

You feel heavy hands grip your hips and you shudder under his touch, a sharp gasp leaving you as you’re yanked back into the sheriff’s body. He’s groping you. He’s groping you and there’s no one around to see or stop him. There’s no one around to help you. There’s nothing you can do.

“Either I call a tow and get your vehicle taken down to the yard and take you in the back of my cruiser,” he rumbles in your ear as he leans into you, “or,” he breathes, his lips tickling your jaw as he lowers his head toward your neck,

“And this is the option I’m rootin’ for-” he smirks, “-you get down on your knees and take care’a this,” he intones as he grinds his stiffness into your backside, earning a breathy squeaky from you as you squeeze your eyes shut. Praying to anyone who might be listening that this is all just a bad dream, that it isn’t real. “And I’ll take care’a you, darlin’,” he simpers darkly, his hands slithering down your body as he gropes you without care. You can’t do so much as eke out a word as he touches you. You want to scream, tell him to stop, to just take you to his station and tow the damn car. But you can’t. And even if you could… where does that leave you? Your parents have done so much for you already - too much. You can’t put more on them, can’t keep running to them to solve your problems. The sheriff was right, you realize, your dad isn’t gonna be able to get you out of this.

No one can.

You won’t be able to afford getting your car out, and you won’t have any way home.

He says you have two options. But it seems you both know that you only really have one.

“Mm,” he hums as he squeezes your hips and tummy, his thumb rubbing along the exposed skin at the hem of your top, “you’re soft.”

His hands slide around your body, pressing on your stomach as he works one down the front of your leggings.

It’s in the blink of an eye that you find yourself pressed against the side of your car, the sheriff firm on your back as he holds you in place. He has one arm around your waist as his other is down your pants. He forces a leg between yours as he urges you to spread them for him. Your knees hit the car as you begin to struggle and your chest squeezes.

The sheriff shoves himself hard against you and your body is forced even more firmly to your car as you cry out at the force. You grab onto his forearm as his thick fingers rub against your covered cunt.

“Ah-ah,” he admonishes, “none’a that now, sweetheart,” he rubs himself against your ass. His fingers don’t stop as they pull at the fabric of your underwear, finally getting the access he was looking for.

He chuckles and tears prick at your eyes in your mortification as you mewl pathetically, hiding your face against the car - your wetness undeniable as he delves between your folds. You groan as he pokes at your entrance. He swirls around your wetness and drags his fingers up your sex. He nudges your clit and your breath catches at the shock.

“There she is,” he smirks, his lips against your cheek. He presses on your clit and rubs the button in sloppy circles as your voice raises despite yourself.

“Sheriff, please,” you quake under his touch. You’re firm against your car as he keeps you pressed with his weight.

“You ain’t gotta beg, darlin’, I’ll give ya what you need.”

It sounds like a taunt as you teeter on the edge. His fingers work you closer and closer to your unwanted high and as you tense and a desperate moan leaves you, a deep moan sounds from him in turn. “You’re almost there, ain’tcha,” he breathes harshly. 

Your eyes stay screwed shut as you try to block him out while your nerve endings blaze in the building tension. That coil deep inside you winding tighter and tighter as it threatens to snap.

“That was a question, darlin’, fuckin’ answer it,” he growls meanly in your ear as he jerks you against the car again.

“Yes,” you cry, not bothering to lie. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” you murmur pathetically as that coil finally snaps and your orgasm crashes over you. You hold onto his arm without thinking as you come and barely register when he kisses your hair softly, keeping you upright and against him as you come down; your soft cries like music to his ears.

He slips his hand from your pants and you let go of him, leaning on the car instead as you try to calm your breathing. 

“Much as I’d like to feel that sweet little mouth a’yours around me,” he sniffs, “be a damn shame to not fill you up when your pussy’s cryin’ for me like she is.” The sound of his belt jingling and his zipper cutting through the air has you spinning around in horror.

“No, please. You can’t do this,” you whimper, “please, sir, I-”

You’re cut off by the sheriff’s hand gripping your jaw as he squeezes harshly while you look at him with pleading eyes and puffy cheeks.

“You listen to me, and you listen good, sweetheart,” he sneers in your face, “I can do whatever the hell I want to do, whenever the hell I want to do it, you understand me?”

It’s a question you know he’s expecting an answer to as you struggle out a “yes” through his tight grip.

He lets go of your face and moves to take your arm, his grip still as tight and harsh. You can feel his strength in every move he makes against you. “Walk,” he instructs as he urges you from your car and toward his cruiser.

You can’t breathe as a renewed wave of anxiety flows through you the closer to the back of the car you get. “Wait, you said-”

“I know what I said,” he interrupts you, stopping you in your walk as he gets in front of you to pull open the back door of his cruiser. “You ain’t in handcuffs, now, are you?” 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Then quit your blubberin’.”

He grabs you close again, quickly and easily shoving you down face first into the back of the car. You squeal and hold yourself up on the seat as he pulls your hips against him while he stands behind you, his back to the empty road. You’re only half inside the car as you feel him tear down your leggings and underwear. If someone were to drive by right now, they’d get quite the show as the sheriff shimmies down his still undone pants in kind. You’re grateful, at least, that you can’t see anything. Of course you know what’s coming next, but you won’t have to watch it, or have him see your face in this position.

The unexpected slap he lands on your ass has you yelping at the sting as he snickers, rubbing the spot gently before he does it again. 

“You like that, darlin’? I can see you gettin’ wetter already,” he taunts as he pushes the small of your back down, arching you more while he admires your cunt from behind. You feel his fingers as he rubs at you, dipping them past your entrance, slipping them in up to his knuckle while you huff through your nose, trying to hold back a moan as he wiggles them before slipping them back out.

You don’t know why you’re so shocked when the next thing you feel is his cock pushing into you. No verbal warning, just his heavy hand on your hip as he guides himself into your tight hole. He’s thick, thicker than you’ve ever had, and you want to die at the moan that floats past your lips as he groans in his delight as you're wrapped tightly around his length. His fingers flex on your hip as he frames your other side in kind, holding tightly onto you while he inches deeper inside your walls. He gets to your limit and holds himself there for a long moment. Your body moves on its own, your hips wiggling just the slightest in search of some kind of friction. 

You feel yourself heat up more in your embarrassment as he groans again, “knew you’d like this,” he says smugly.

You gasp sharply as he begins to move again, sliding almost all the way out of you before pushing right back in, your tight resistance spurring him on as your walls squeeze him snuggly. In then out, over and over again, his thick cock filling you up. With every thrust into you, he makes sure you feel every single inch of him.

Your wetness is undeniable, you can hear the lewd sounds of your fucking loud and clear as you’re rocked between him and the leather seats. The slapping of his hips against your ass and his heavy pants and growls as he grips you tightly, it all adds to the building, buzzing sensation growing inside of you. 

“Goddamn tight,” he pants, pulling you back into him by your hips as he fucks you hard, his movements growing more erratic the closer he gets. “Gonna make me bust inside a’you, darlin’. Fill you up nice and full’a my jizz,” he breathes heavily, groaning and slapping your ass hard, groping you as he moves you back and forth on his thick length.

You mewl, fingers clawing at the leather beneath you, your eyes scrunched in your thieved pleasure as you meet his thrusts. You don’t want this, but it feels so good. His cock hits that certain spot just right, and you can’t stop yourself from fucking him back in search of more. It’s awful, and it feels like heaven.

“Fuck, I’m gonna bust,” he moans, one hand slipping from your hip down to find your clit. Your walls clench around him as he winds you tighter with his touch. You don’t have a voice as you squeak a moan, eyes rolling as you drone out mindlessly, completely cock drunk as he slams into you, chasing his orgasm.

You're overcome by your own, blindingly so as the sheriff works you through it. You quake beneath him and suddenly feel the hot spurts of his come as he lets go inside of you, curses tumbling from his lips as he does, his hold on you never faltering. 

Slowly he comes down, chuckling through heavy breaths as he loosens his grip on you, instead rubbing circles on your hip.

You’re both breathing hard and you turn around gingerly to look at him, still holding yourself up on your arms. He’s pulling his pants up and zipping his fly when you both hear a rumbling approaching from behind the curve of the road just behind where you’re parked. Your brow is quirked as you listen. Head still foggy from your orgasm, you don’t piece together what the sound is. 

“Shit,” he curses as he fumbles with his belt, working quick to fasten it. “Get in, lay down, darlin’,” he instructs, pushing you back gently and closing the door on you just as you see headlights coming up from around the curve. 

You heed his instructions and lay down on the seat, heart racing, adrenaline pumping as you strain to listen past the doors of the cruiser.

You hear the car that was approaching slow down as they come up on the scene of your two cars, clearly curious. No one ever takes this back road, not even the oldtimers - not unless traffic is really bad on the main highway. But it’s late on a Sunday night, the highway is surely clear, and so should this road be, too.

“Sheriff Bodecker,” an old voice croons, “is that you, dear?”

“Ah, Mrs. Greenly,” the sheriff greets, “how are ya, ma’am?”

“Just fine, Sheriff. Comin’ back in from pickin’ up Walter’s medicine outta town. Everything alright out here?”

“Everything’s fine, ma’am. Just an abandoned vehicle we got a call about, had to come check it out before we call for a tow,” he nods toward your car. “Nothin’ to worry about,” he smiles.

“Oh,” she accepts, “well, you have a nice night, Sheriff. Stay safe.”

“Thank you, ma’am. You have a nice night, now,” he returns.

“And tell your little lady I said hello,”

“I certainly will,” he smiles again, nodding at her as she does the same.

You listen as she drives off, picking back up her speed as she does.

You hear the steps he takes as the sheriff comes back over to the door. You stare hard at him as he opens it to you and you sit up.

“What was it you said about this road never being used?” 

He laughs, leaning down close to you, taking your face gently in his hands before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as you lean up into his touch, kissing him back just as fervently. A sudden desperation coming over you, you try to pull him down with you, to be closer.

He breaks away with a heavy breath, eyes closed as he presses his forehead to yours. When he opens them, you’re met with brilliant blue eyes gazing back at you. 

“I don’t recall usin’ the word ‘never’,” he evades as you shake your head at him.

“Lee Bodecker,” you say, pulling him down further into the backseat with you as you wind your arms around his neck, “you sir, are a menace. A silver tongued devil.”

He smirks and kisses you again before he gets off of you, getting out of the car and standing up with a groan. He holds his hand out for you and you take it as he helps you out of the car. There’s a sticky mess between your legs but you ignore it as you pull your leggings all the way back up.

Lee closes the door and turns you so your back is against it as he stands in front of you.

“But did you like it?” He asks, leaning into you just a bit.

You bite down your smile and nod, “Yeah, I did.”

“Knew you would,” he says against your lips as he kisses you again. His hands fall to your waist as he holds you. “You were real’ convincin’, too. Almost had me second guessin’ myself.”

You titter at that, “Yeah?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he affirms. “But then I heard that sweet little moan a yours.” 

“Couldn’t help it,” you murmur softly as his lips tickle yours. Just barely touching as you breathe him in.

“Well,” he kisses your lips softly one last time before he pulls away from you completely, “it’s hot as hell out here, sweetheart,” he walks around to the passenger door of the cruiser and opens it for you. “Why don’t I take you home and see if I can’t get any other sounds outta ya,” he simpers. You meet him at the door, standing before him with a raised brow. “Been killin’ me not hearin’ my name fall from your pretty lips all night.”

You smile as you touch his cheek. “You wanna hear me moan your name?” Lee purrs in your attention as he steps closer to you. You smirk and bend to get into the car. “Gonna have to make me.”

He licks his lips as he watches you, closing the door for you once you’re settled. He gets in on the driver’s side and you continues, "But first I'm gonna need a shower. And a lotta cuddles," you add with a soft smile as you peer at him with loving eyes.

"I can do that," he agrees, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile, his gaze just as soft for you.

"Home we go, then," you simper.

He turns his head back to the windshield and huffs as he takes notice of your car again.

He looks at you in exasperation, sighing. “You and this damn car.”

You look back sharply in challenge.

“Look, I already told ya I’m not lettin’ you drive all the way across the country alone in that thing. And I know your dad already paid your fees, but…” he sighs again and you wait for him to continue as you keep your eyes on his. “What’s it gonna take to get you to finally register it here, huh? It’s been two years. And I shoulda given you a ticket for it 22 months ago,” he adds.

You laugh, “Shoulda, coulda, but you didn’t.”

He narrows his eyes at you but it only makes you laugh more.

“It’s not my fault you flirted instead of ticketing,” you grin as you lean over the console to kiss him. “But I am grateful for it.”

You sit back down in your seat and buckle your belt as Lee hides his own smile at the memory of your first meeting, putting the car in drive as he rolls up to yours. 

“Gotta grab your wallet,” he says as he stops and gets out. You watch him as he does, admiring him - and weighing his previous question.

He gets back in, handing your wallet to you before he starts driving again, heading back into town.

“It’d be a bit of a hassle, ya know,” you muse aloud, “having to register here, getting a new id, new license, all that. Seems a little pointless just to change the state I’m living in…Now if there was something else that needed changing, something more important, something like,” you sigh dramatically, “my name, for instance, well then maybe that’d get me to finally do it,” you shrug. Lee looks over to you so quick at the mention of changing your name, you almost worry he might’ve hurt himself, but the lopsided grin that lights up his face assures you he’s just fine.

“Two years is a good while,” you add with a small smile of your own. “Plus, this place,” you emphasize, hoping he gets your meaning, him, you think as you reach for his free hand while he steers with his left, “feels a lot more like home than home ever has.”

[dqllgarden]

Hi sweetheart! I’d like to request a Ben Hargreeves x Reader shot please. You can change it however you’d like and I’d still thank you for it. Lovely stuff btw I already read what you’ve came up with. Was pretty good if you’d ask me. Whatever, here we go. I want a smut Ben fic with plot. The reader was with Umbrella!Ben first and was a dom! And now she is with Sparrow!Ben and they have a switch dynamic. I want her to be a switch and challenging. Have them fight but not seriously just for the tension ya know. And I want them to be soft afterwards. Prob something like “I loved you before, I love you now and I will love you even after death. As long as there is a Y/N in any universe she is gonna love her Ben every fucking time.” And Ben is just pathetic after hearing her. #WeLovePatheticMan lol. If it’s too much you can just do whatever you like and I will still read it. Please don’t forget to tag me. Baibai 🥰✌🏻

i’ll always choose you

ben hargreeves x reader

my first request!! yay :D i was so so so excited to write this because it’s such a well thought out idea and i hope i did it justice :) thank you @cherryinsalemverse !

side note, this was my first one in third person so i hope it’s okay lol

tags: smut, switch!ben, switch!fem!reader, choking, sparrow ben being a little jealous of y/n’s relationship with umbrella ben, cutesy shit at the end!

—

Being with Ben was always a walk in the park. He was kind, strong willed, and had such a loving heart. And Y/N loved the way he’d show up for her in more ways than one. He was someone she could talk to one rough days and dominate when talking didn’t work. Their sex life was anything but boring despite how sweet her Ben looked. Y/N would wait for Ben to get back from his missions just so she could take control over him and take care of him the way he needed. She’d slowly take off his uniform, rake her nails down his body and tease him until he was on the verge of tears needing more. It didn’t take much for her to cave, being just as needy for him. She’d fuck him until she was too exhausted to keep going or until he couldn’t take any more.

That changed in the new timeline though.

Her new Ben shared some of the same traits as her beloved Ben from the Umbrella Academy, but obviously he was… different. Sure he shared the same loving heart even if it was hidden beneath his asshole facade. Sure they fought, but it was never anything truly serious. It usually ended with them in bed, Ben on top of her, hand wrapped around her throat while she muttered out insults at him.

—

Today was like any other day, Ben coming back from a mission and Y/N sitting on their bed reading a book.

“You’re back quicker than I expected, love.” She sat down her book to look up at him.

“And you’re sad about that?” He rolled his eyes and took off his jacket.

“I mean yeah, I was enjoying my alone time.”

“Well I’m back,” Ben got onto the bed and grabbed her face to pull her into a kiss, “and I missed you, princess.”

Bens hand traveled down to her throat where he squeezed down, Y/N noticing a large cut on his hand cleaned up in a very sloppy manner. She took his hand off and sat up. “What happened to you?”

“It’s just a small cut it’s fi-“

“No. No, you need to be more careful next time,” Y/N said frantically. Something about seeing him hurt makes her go totally soft on him, wanting to make sure he’s okay and taken care of. Ben tried to go back to kissing her but she didn’t reciprocate. “What the fuck?” He asked, “come here babe.”

She only smiled at him before she got up and turned around to face him, only to push him back onto the bed and climb into his lap.

“Can’t you give me this just this once? I miss the way the old Ben let me take care of him after his missions.”

“Alright! Enough about him, okay?” His hands went to the back of his head as his eyes looked her up and down. “I get it, you liked him better.”

“It’s not about who I like better,” she muttered while unzipping his pants and taking hers off, “I just miss him sometimes. That’s all.” She lifted herself up, slowly lowering herself on Ben’s cock, one hand guiding it in and the other resting on his stomach. He tried to push into her faster but she held his hips down so he couldn’t. She wanted to be in control tonight.

“Can you please just- Y/N please I need you to move,” He’d cry when she’d do nothing but cockwarm him, trying to thrust into her. “You’re lucky I don’t flip you over and fuck you the way I want to.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, Mr. Hargreeves?”

He smirked at her before grabbing her throat and flipping her into the bed with such force the wind was knocked out of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist with no hesitation as he began pounding into her. Y/N moaned around him, eyes rolled back in pleasure at the way he perfectly filled her up and hit every spot just the way she needed. His weight felt so good on top of her, pushing into her with just the right amount of pressure to make her cry in pleasure. Ben’s hand left her throat to feel her body, squeezing her tits and holding onto her waist while he leaned closer to mark up her neck.

“I’m gonna cum in you baby, ‘kay?” Ben whispered in a desperate voice in her ear as he fucked into her harder. His hand went down to play with her clit to help her finish too, milking his orgasm. Ben collapsed next to Y/N not caring that their clothes were messily scattered around the room and pulled the blanket over them. He looked at her and grabbed a strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers.

“I was thinking about what you said,” Y/N let out a breath, “I don’t mean to compare you to him. You know I love you, right? Hell, I loved you in another timeline. You’re perfect for me and I’ll love you forever, in every universe, in every timeline. As long as I’m me, you will always be mine.”

Ben’s face softened and he pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead. “You’re so sweet. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I hope to find you in every timeline, my love.” He smiled at her before tangling his hands into her hair and falling asleep together.

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Dad Ran Haitani x Mom Reader: My baby you'll be ft Uncle Rindou WC:1300+ TW: baby, pure fluff Synopsis: Dotting dad over his little princess decides to cut his lovely braids off. You love his new look but will his daughter like it? A/n: The book the he reads to her is truly such a beautiful book its called 'I love you forever'. Makes me cry every time I read it 🥺💜 I hope you enjoy! (unedited) MINORS DNI

“Daddy will be back in a little bit, okay princess?” He held his daughter, giving her a big hug and kiss. His 10 month old daughter giggled, her small hands touching her fathers face. He doted over his precious princess so much and always wanted to keep a smile on her face. The term daddy's little girl applied to the both of them.

You plucked your little one from his arms as you both were at the doorway that lead out of your home, giving him a sweet kiss. It had been a while since he changed his signature braids he grew accustomed to for a while. But now he needed something new with his hair. “Love you, be careful.”

“You know I will.” stealing one more kiss “love you too.”

Both you and your daughter watched Ran get into the car “bye bye daddy!” reaching for here hands showing her how to wave. He gave a smile as he waved from inside the car. Pulling out of the drive way you began to see him drive off.

Ran took his time when going into the salon. Seeing his braids being chopped out his hair bleached and redyed. His brows even being reydyed to match his hair. He would spend hours in the salon making sure his hair was properly cared for. When he finally saw the hairstyle he was very pleased with how he looked. The soft lilac hair color as he ran his fingers through his hair. Exiting the salon he could feel the wind blowing through his hair. He was eager to head home and show his new hair style.

Your daughter was down for her nap when you began to prepare for dinner. Ran quietly snuck into the home, he could smell the yummy food coming from the kitchen. It was quiet knowing his daughter might be down for her nap. Your back was turned as you were by the stove. You could feel a pair of lanky arms wrapping around your waist. You were slightly startled “scared ya babe.” he leaned in kissing your cheek.

Turning around, your eyes widen. You were amazed by the new look running your fingers through his soft hair. “ Well mister I don’t think my husband wouldn’t appreciate you holding me like this.” teasing him as your arms drape around his neck.

He raised his brow giving a smirk “what your husband doesn't know, won’t hurt him.” pressing his lips against yours. “You like it?” he asked.

“I love it, it suits you really well.”

“How long has my princess been asleep?”

“About an hour, Rin came over thinking you were here when the baby saw him, she got excited. When he tried to leave she cried so he stayed and they both eventually fell asleep.”

When it came to his niece Rin enjoyed spending time with her, even though complain about his niece becoming clingy to him when he was over. It showed how much his niece loved him and he loved it but would never admit it to you both.

“I’m up I’m up.” you both heard Rins lazy voice as he was scratching the back of his head. Rin looked over at his brothers taking a second glance. “Well that's different.”

It only took a few minutes of Rin waking up. The three of you heard your daughter waking up. “Oi Rin can you go grab her? I wanna surprise her with the new look”

“yeah yeah.” Rin knew his niece would have a fit but didn't want to say anything. “get your phone and record her.” He mumbled quietly to you as he walked to get his niece. You grabbed your phone then proceeded to follow your husband to the living room.

Ran quickly grabbed one of the blankets from the couch. Taking a seat he placed the blanket over his head. Rin brought out his niece who seemed to have a good nap with her smile spread across her face. “ Where's daddy’s princess??” He asked . His daughter's head turned to the couch and saw from what it looked like what her daddy was wearing before he left to “bring her over.” He couldn’t see her but he could here her saying ‘dada’

Rin looked over at you and mocked the word ‘Record’, He placed his niece on her fathers lap. “Dada '' she kept saying . Ran held her making sure she wouldn’t fall.

“I missed you too princess.” He spoke as the blanket was still over his face. His daughter tugged at the blanket making the blanket fall off her fathers face.

He saw his daughter's face, a bright smile that only lasted for a moment then noticed a smile disappearing on her face as she looked at him. She heard her daddy but this wasn’t him, she had a shocked look of ‘your not my dad’ all over her face.

He was a bit concerned with her facial expression “princess what’s the matter?” he asked as he caressed her chubby cheek. He could see her bottom lip sticking out her eyes beginning to tear up. She looked over at you then her uncle and began to cry as she stuck out her hands towards Rin. Before Rin could reach his upset niece, Ran brought her closer to his chest. Her hands were on his shoulders as she cried. Did she not recognize him? “Baby girl it's me daddy.” wiping her eyes before kissing her cheek.

She was not having it. She didn't know who this new man was but it wasn’t her daddy. Her cries became louder “you're pissing her off, gimme her.” Rin picks her up. You turned off the phone going towards your daughter to make sure she was okay.

Ran’s heart broke as his daughter refused to go to him. His little one couldn’t recognize him with his new hairstyle. He was almost kicking himself for doing it. She just had a melt down and he didn’t want to make her upset. “Honey, you're okay. It’s daddy.” you point towards Ran. Her bottom lip still sticking out, she looked over at Ran. He gave a weary smile he stood up with his hands reaching for her. Nope still not having it. She turned her head away burying her head into her uncle's shoulder. “Babe, she may just need some time to get used to it.” you gave him a smile

“I hope so.” Ran let a low sign out. Your daughter was practically on your hip, or on Rins hip until he left home. He saw her favorite book thinking maybe if he read it to her like he usually does maybe she would notice it's her daddy. She was freshly washed and had her pajamas on. She looked a bit tired. You took a seat next to Ran, your daughter sat on your lap. She noticed the small book in Ran’s hand. As he began to read the book she felt a bit more calmer. He would bring the book closer to her so she could see the photos “I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.” Just with this phrase alone his baby girl felt more at ease. You noticed she scooted herself into her father's lap as he continued to read the book. She curled up in his arms, rubbing her eyes as she yawned. It was towards the end of the book and noticing her eyes are becoming heavy he said the last part “I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.” He looked down to see his little princess curled in his arms asleep. Placing the book down. His armed wrapped around her. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “My baby you’ll be.” Ran held her for a while before taking her to bed.

When placing her in bed kissing her good night. He closed the door to her room. It didn’t take long for him to find you changing into your pajamas. He needed to pick me up since he was a little bit down still. Deciding to continued the little playful talk from earlier “I see your husband is still out. I guess I get you all to myself. " he begin to unbutton his shirt as he walked towards you. As the shirt fell to the floor his long slender fingers brushing your hair off your shoulders. The corner of his eyes caught his phone lighting up on the night stand. He ignored it when it first lit up but seeing how it was lighting up more frequent. It could be a important chat. "hold on babe." Walking to his phone seeing it was a new group chat. It was the video of his daughter reacting to his new hair. His friends commenting with memes 'your not my dad' . He wasn't going to respond putting his phone on silent for the rest of the night. He looked over at you knowing you were the one who recorded it and sent it to Rin. The looked you knew so familiar that excited you yet knowing you weren't going to get a break tonight.

[tiredfox64]

Since my identity as an anon have been exposed for that fic I did request,,,,

Can you make Pipsqueak pt. 2,,,,

*looks at u with my big eyes*

(I need to know the stupid shenanigans,,,,)

(Sorry got gay)

Little Bitty Pretty One

Yip notes: in my best Italian accent Don't say I neva did anything for ya. You are in debt to me.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Gn reader

Warnings ‼️: Haha you still small!

It seems when you need Liu Kang the most he is not there to answer. He could at least leave a message.

Well, you’re still small, unfortunately. Or maybe you like this situation. You’ve been stuck this way for two days now. Just as Bi-Han thought, you are incapable of doing many things. You’ve been depending on him for everything. You truly had no choice but to obey your grandmaster. Cause when you are the size of a Norway rat but lack the abilities of one your survivability is at a low possibility. So do him a favor and act good.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Bi-Han tries his best not to wake you up in the morning. He’s been keeping you in his room so he can keep an eye on you and prevent you from getting hurt. He has to tiptoe around or else he will wake you up. Little does he know you’ve been waking up when he does because he always groans when he wakes up. What a loudmouth. You stir in your makeshift bed made of soft cloth material and a sponge before pretending to still be asleep. He doesn’t know that you like to peek at him when he is getting ready for the day. He doesn’t sleep with a shirt on…need I say more? It’s enjoyable to watch him tie his hair into a bun, he looks so pretty. But you can’t watch him change fully he puts a bowl over you to prevent you from seeing. No worries there are holes at the top to allow you to breathe. Alright, now he will wake you up.

He pokes your back viciously but not enough to possibly break your spine. You smack his finger which does nothing, go figures. Then he scolds you lightly for hitting your grandmaster. Again, he can’t yell or else he will risk bursting your eardrums.

Breakfast time! What do you want? Trick question, you have no choice. Whatever Bi-Han gives you is what you get. He purposely leaves some of the food big to make it seem like you are a rat nibbling on it. As he eats his breakfast he’ll occasionally look to his side to see you nibbling on a slice of carrot, your teeth leaving little marks. Now you’re whining, saying you need much more than that.

“You are acting very greedy. Have I not done enough for you already?” Bi-Han asked but you know he is being petty. When is he not.

Fine, he gave you a proper meal. Though the slice of cucumber he provided was still too big for you so you had to munch on it for a bit. He found it entertaining to see you stuff my cheeks full of food like a hamster. You did look silly that way. Especially with that glare you gave him.

Time for practice! Not for you, you’re too tiny for that. You’re gonna be staying in the palm of Bi-Han’s hand where he will proceed to pet your back with his finger. He starts from the top of your head before sliding down to your lower back. For some reason, you immediately relax when he does that. You fight a little because you know he likes finding people’s weak spots and exploiting them. But you stood little chance since even when you were big you still couldn’t fight him off. So you are forced to partake in this wonderful torment where he slowly watches you melt in his hands.

Bi-Han was so distracted by tormenting you he forgot to give orders to the rest of his clan. They waited with confused expressions. Kuai Liang had to tap on his brother to get his attention, only to be glared at by him as he quickly cupped you in his hands. He thought someone was trying to snatch you away from him. He can’t have that happening.

“What do you want, Kuai Liang?” he asked in annoyance.

Kuai Liang craned his neck in the direction of the clan to show that they were waiting. Bi-Han groaned as usual and gave them an order. Something mundane because he couldn’t care less in that moment. He was more preoccupied with you which you were trying to squeeze out of his hands again because you didn’t appreciate him leaving you in darkness.

Your little hands were trying to scratch their way between his fingers before he realized what you were doing. He uncapped his hands and you looked up at him like he just committed the ultimate betrayal.

“Don’t give me that face.”

He had you sit on his hand while looking out to the clan so you could watch them. His pointer finger and thumb were constantly squishing your face or rubbing below your chin. At this point anything he is doing to you is subconscious. He doesn’t know that he is doing it but it feels right to do, like twirling a pen while writing. It is necessary to squish something so small and fragile. You’re not having it. You’re out of here! Plan your escape!

You started walking on his arm, occasionally having to grab onto his arm guards to prevent yourself from plummeting to the ground. He sees your efforts and he does not like it. He tried to grab you but you kept swerving out of the way. Soon enough you were at his clothes and used them as a way to get down. You heard him saying words such as ‘stop’, ‘no’, and the occasional ‘obey your grandmaster’. You’re your own person, you can handle yourself! You can survive without your grandmaster’s assistance.

Never mind there was a giant golden orb weaver on the ground. It’s a female unfortunately so it’s humongous. You are not ready to handle that.

Bi-Han!!!

He froze the weaver in a matter of seconds before shattering it into millions of pieces. You were hugging his boot with your eyes closed, wondering if he demolished the arachnid. He picked you up by your uniform and you screamed thinking it was the spider before realizing it was Bi-Han.

“Will you listen to me now?” he asked with his usual grumpy tone.

“Yes, grandmaster.” You replied with your head lowered.

You obeyed him for the rest of the time, thank the elder gods. I would say that it made everything easier but you were still left being poked, petted, and squished by Bi-Han. At least when dinner time rolled around you were able to breathe. You got to munch on a nice, fat dumpling. Took a while before you got to the filling but it was so worth it when you did. That dinner could have knocked you out immediately after. You almost did but you were startled when Bi-Han picked you up and brought you to his office.

Escape plan part two!

Forget it, he already knew what you were planning. You tried to run around on his deck but he quickly pulled you back before placing you at one end of a hand towel. In one fell swoop he rolled you up like sushi. There, now you will stay in one place.

“Hey! You can’t do this! I’m a human being!” You yelled in a shrilled voice.

“A human being who drank a potion when I told you not to.” He got you there.

You could be angry all you want but you did get yourself into this mess. So just lay there and take your medicine.

You were forced to lay there silently as Bi-Han worked for about half an hour before the door opened. Finally, Liu Kang is here to help you. But for some reason, Bi-Han didn’t seem to be thrilled about this.

“I have been informed that there was a little incident,” Pun intended, “Let me assist in making things righ—oh.”

Liu Kang saw you wrapped in the hand towel with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. He gave a questioning look towards Bi-Han but at the same time, he could understand if your grandmaster had a hard time keeping you under control. Liu Kang had to hold himself back from chuckling as he reached towards you. He was going to unravel you to help get you back to normal but Bi-Han snatched you away. It nearly gave you whiplash.

“Bi-Han, I need them to get them back to normal.” Liu Kang informed him but Bi-Han walked out of the room with you in hand.

You were shouting at him and asking what he was doing and saying that this was what he wanted. You may think this whole situation was a hassle for Bi-Han. You would be slightly wrong. He finds this situation very entertaining and even, though he would never admit, adorable. It’s like having his own personal pet. A pet that has to depend on him because they don’t have any animal-like skills.

He will have you return back to normal one of these days. But this day won’t be it. Liu Kang was trying to get an answer from him but he wouldn’t say a word. He walked right into his bedroom, made a wall of ice to prevent anyone from getting in, and sat right on his bed.

He unraveled you before carefully placing you in your makeshift bed. He didn’t want you asking any more questions so he started to pet your back again. It’s too easy. With the food in your belly, the tight wrap from the towel, and the feeling of Bi-Han petting and rubbing your back you were out like a light. You were even drooling a little.

Bi-Han hasn’t felt this much joy from something in a long, long time. He wasn’t even allowed to have a pet when he was young. So let him enjoy this for a little longer then he will bring you back to normal.

But when you are back to normal you better not drink another strange potion he swears to the elder gods!

Now he can get ready for bed. He needs to mentally prepare himself for the next day. Who knows what you could do then.

Are you peeking at him taking his shirt off again? Turn your head! Damn rodent…

Yap notes: Last time I wrote for you that spine-eating goofball payed me a visit. He better not come around again just cause I did this for you. Also I hope you are feeling better I saw that you said you were sick get some Vic’s vaporub, ginger ale, and an egg to cleanse yourself. Adiós!

[enchantedflameandflower]

Perhaps you could write something? It’s my birthday and everyone seems to have forgotten. Maybe you could write Billy finding out it’s the readers birthday coming up and she’s crying because she doesn’t have family or friends and she’s alone, so be make sure she has a great day. (Fluff or smut, idk)

Yes! Happy belated birthday!!! I really wanted to get this ask out before everything else I’m working on because I know this feeling and it totally sucks. Billy would absolutely kiss it all better. Hope you all enjoy! (And happy birthday again anon! Thank you so much for the ask!)

Billy x you

You’d made it to nearly 7pm before the first tear finally slipped down your cheek, leaving a cold, wet trail in its wake.

Fuck it. You were proud of yourself for making it this long. You didn’t even bother to wipe it away. Another birthday, come and almost gone, without even a text. Yeah you had a few friends but it wasn’t worth it to truly open up to anyone anymore. Not really. But the older you got the harder it was to spend another birthday alone.

You were just about to go for the cheap liquor in the cabinet so you could take a sleeping pill and just drink until you passed out when there was a knock at your door. You almost thought of just ignoring it but what the fuck. You didn’t even care at this point if you were murdered by some psycho.

You opened the door and nearly dropped the bottle of vodka from the surprise. It was definitely a crazy person but not one that was going to kill you. At least not on purpose.

“Billy…” you managed to stammer out. “Uh…what…”

You’d been helping him out for awhile now when he needed information, you’d let him buy you a few drinks in payment now and again and you’d had the hottest fucking make out session at his office late one night a few weeks ago - until you’d been interrupted and decided it was probably for the best. He’d never come by your place before though and you knew it was ridiculous to be surprised he knew where you lived.

“Can a poor bloke come in, or ya gonna make me get on my knees and beg, doll?” he grinned.

Your stomach flip flopped wildly but you stepped aside, still at a loss for words, and - you couldn’t help it - quite intrigued.

“What are you…?”

“Came by to take ya out. Ya want to change? Nothin’ fancy or anythin’, just a dive I like down the street.”

“Take me out?” God you sounded so stupid but it’d been an awful day and you just couldn’t process anything and all of a sudden he looked so fucking good standing in your living room, and even though it was for the best you could not help thinking about all the dirty thoughts you’d had about him since that night. All of them included him naked and ravaging you, making you come until you couldn’t move anymore.

He grinned then, his dimple showing, and you wondered if he could tell what you were thinking. “Happy Birthday, doll. I meant to be here sooner but I got stuck with work.”

“How do you know when my birthday is?” you asked, shocked and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Ya said somethin’ about no one callin’ you last year and I didn’t know if ya had anyone else this year either. Ya shouldn’t have to be alone if ya don’t want. And I’ve wanted to take ya out anyway.”

Tears stung at the back of your eyes again, this was almost impossible to believe, but you took a breath and pushed them down. “Yeah,” you smiled up at him. “I’ll change, it’ll just be a minute.”

~*~*~

You threw on your favorite pair of jeans, some boots and a nice tank top and Billy took your hand as he led you down the street. It was a dark, weathered looking bar but you didn’t mind. He sat you down in a booth in the back corner and went to the bar to order. “They have the best chips…er, fries,” he amended as he sat down across from you. “Loaded, you’ll love ‘em.”

One of the waiters brought the plate of loaded fries over along with two drinks. Billy ordered your favorite and you felt all your depression over this stupid day start to melt away.

“Thank you,” you murmured taking a drink and humming. It was good.

“Aw it’s nothin’,” he waved his hand in the air. But you could tell he knew how much this meant to you.

The fries were even better. You’d barely eaten all day and they were amazing. When you moaned out lout at how good they were, licking your fingers, he gave you a cheeky, knowing grin, clearly pleased with himself. You knew exactly what he was thinking and it felt really fucking good. God, you needed this.

The two of you shared the fries and just talked about everything. You made a joke about some ridiculous C-level supe and he laughed out loud, a deep rich, sound with a real smile. The whole thing nearly made you climb on his lap right there in front of everyone. You remembered exactly how he had felt when he’d kissed you weeks ago, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you against his swelling cock, his tongue plundering your mouth while his beard rubbed against your sensitive skin. Fuck you wanted him so badly.

The bar wasn’t too crowded but there was a group of girls at a table in the middle, laughing and having a good time. At one point some old rock song came on the jukebox and they got up, dancing around. You couldn’t help smiling, watching them. You hadn’t done anything like that in forever. Maybe sometimes it was worth it to get out, just let go and have fun.

Billy was watching you while you watched them and you caught his gaze as you turned back. There was a glint in his dark hazel eyes and it made your stomach flutter hotly. It was the first time you let yourself believe maybe there was more to this than him just being nice because he felt he had to.

At some point you got up to go to the restroom and when you returned, Billy had fresh drinks. He scooted against the wall as he watched you walk toward him. His gaze slid over you, head to toe then he was nodding for you to sit beside him instead of on the other side of the table.

You eagerly slide into the booth, pressing against his side as he lifted his arm for you to cuddle up close.

“You’re too good for me, love. But I’m starting to think I don’t give a fuck.”

You hummed happily and took a long drink of your alcohol. It was just enough to lighten your mood and make you just a bit tipsy, not too much.

His warm fingers brushed over your arm, his thumb rubbing your shoulder and you let you own hand fall to thigh under the table. It was firm and hot and you must have made some kind of stupid sound because the next you knew Billy gave a low chuckle.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” you murmured softly. You truly had not felt this good in a very long time “I never - Just thanks. I owe you one.”

You felt Billy lean over to kiss the top of your head. “Ya don’t owe me nothin’, love, though if you have somethin’ in mind, I certainly won’t argue…” His voice had dipped a little low and a shiver went through you at the implication.

One more big gulp and you were finished with your drink. “Walk me home?” you asked, turning to look up at him.

The look on his face said it all.

This time he had his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body as he walked you back.

When you paused to unlock the front door of the building, he rubbed his hand back and forth over your hip and you fumbled the key twice before you got it in.

By the time you got to your own door you were almost shaking, you were aching for him so badly. And fuck, he seemed to know exactly what was happening because he spun you around before you could even try and get the key in again.

His eyes were dark and full of heated desire and you moaned out loud as he wound his strong arms around you and pulled you against him.

“Do ya want me to stay?” His big hand was sliding down and groping your ass, pulling you up and into him before he’d even finished the question.

“Fuck yes, Billy…” You were so hot and slick for him already you wouldn’t care if he took you right here in the hallway and you’d already decided this was absolutely the best birthday you’d ever had.

~*~*~

I didn’t want it to get crazy long but if y’all want a part two of birthday night with Billy I would looooove to write it, I have a bunch of ideas, let me know!

If you have also put in requests or are waiting for the next part to glimmer please know I will ABSOLUTELY write your request as soon as I’m able. I LOVE all the requests I’ve gotten so much! For my long Billy fic, I am very close to being done with the next part! ❤️ (OH MY GOSH I JUST REMEMBERED WHAT THAT CRAZY UNEXPLAINED NOTE IN MY BILLY NOTES WAS FOR WOOOOOO)

karl urban masterlist

[court-jobi]

i was just (re)reading your "reheat" oneshot and one part that stood out to me was izuku apparently "making a show" of him rolling up his shirt sleeves because reader finds it attractive. but my question is how did he find that out???????? did reader tell him that they find it to be alluring??? i need answers (just please dont do it nsfw, i'm not really into it lol) 👀👀

(btw i love your writing<3)

Ahhhh I'm SO glad someone caught this! I'm a sucker for the little details, and you found one of my favorites 🥰🥰 SFW it is~

And truly, it honestly shouldn't be such a saucy thought, Izuku rolling up his sleeves... It's a pure and simple fact that you love every bit of Izuku, whether he's dressed up or down. What's not to love? But here we are, and I'll tell ya exactly why.

How you came to enjoy this harmless little show was the sum of many 'harmless' moments, though they all have one thing in common:

Acts of Service.

Reheat shows it best, but here's how our darling Izuku reckoned it was a solid plan of distraction...

Pairing: Midoriya x reader

Reheat: ORIGINS

Izuku is an extremely thoughtful person, as we all know and love. He'll be in your corner to listen, tell you just what you need to hear, and do it all with a smile on his face. He'll also be the first to step up and offer his best if it would help make your life easier.

The first time you watched him do it was a night he came around while you were in a self-imposed baking marathon-- and were quickly running out of surface space in the kitchen. Once setting down his workout bag down at the dining table and shucking off his coat, he'd immediately come in reporting for duty...

'How can I help' chirps off Izuku's lips without missing a beat, and before you could even make mention of washing the dishes as you go (to help expedite the process later), he was already rolling the cuffs of his hoodie to keep the ends from getting absolutely soaked. When he catches you staring from he oven range at what he's doing, he assumes it stems from feeling guilty about putting him to work, or refusing the idea that he'd tidy up for you. It's such a high pile that's filling both sides of the sink already, and it's threatening to topple over onto your tray of still-cooling macarons.

He sees it as a stellar trade off: you cook, he cleans. It's a no-brainer in his book!

The next time he does it, you're visiting him at UA while he's hosting some late afternoon office hours (in case some students wish to stop by for some pre-exam help). It's a slow afternoon, and when he complains about it over text, you surprise him with a little green tea boba pick-me-up. By the time you arrive, he's on the phone with some insurance company about a rate change that he's been meaning to call about.

He's a bit grumpy over it. Why they keep hiking prices like this, he'll never fully understand, but would kill for some transparency in billing, y'know?

"No- I'm not interested in upgrading the policy, it's covering everything I need it to -back at my starting rate. No, no dependents. No secondary vehicles either-- maam, I rent an apartment; I don't even own a home yet- why would I need a byline for acreage protection?!"

Poor Izuku's brows are tented as he navigates the skin sufferable conversation... But all the while, he's flexing -a flick of the wrist in each movement- as he cuffs his sleeves towards his elbows.

You don't realize you're staring until he stops moving. Looking up to his eyes again, they're more confused at you now, with a built shoulder precariously balancing his phone to his ear.

'What's wrong?' he mouths to you.

You immediately shake your head, and just motion for him to carry on. You rest your chin in your hand when he continues, but he doesn't say more on the topic when the woman returns from the other end of the line with more bad news.

"-b-boating protec-?? Ma'am, may I be perfectly real with you? I-I am on a teacher's salary! Can I please just revert back to what I was paying before so I don't have to auction off my AllMight limited editions??"

So firm, so capable... so stupidly attractive doing such a small thing... Izuku maybe a bit preoccupied at the moment, but he's starting to catch onto you, for there's gotta be something behind your interest in his forearms.

Finally, it all clicks into place. In Hatsume's Tech Lab, where you're picking up Izuku from after an off-site field trip of sorts for his support course students does Izuku finally get what's going on.

He's taken up some elective classes for their class route, in addition to his hero course homeroom. In the R&D department, he's trying on some gloves and explaining their features to you in excitement for its intended recipient, his good friend Shoto Todoroki, while his students all bound off elsewhere.

"He even came up with the design; pretty stylish, I'd say! Much better than his first costume, less bulky as well. Mei says we're the same size so I could try for fit before she ships them out to him- hhhnr... well- still kinda hard to- c'you hold this one, baby? here, lemme get them on for real.."

Setting the gloves to your waiting hands, your eyes double in interest. Tongue wets your lips slightly. And shockingly, your mouth moves before you can stop yourself.

"Oooo, my lucky day~ Roll 'em up, babe~"

"that's the problem with this tech. There's safety resistance in the cuffs: they're great for compression, but it's a bit tight for tryin' to get over-- w-wait. What?"

Izuku chances a look at you in that one, thirsty moment.

"Do you-- like this?"

"Mhm~"

".. just- rolling up my sleeves? Like this?"

"Mhmmm~"

Though you've solidly convinced Izuku that his scars are to be worshipped just as much as his heart, he can't believe your starry-eyed look while he does this.

Cheeky, Izuku thinks surely you're messing with him, "Goodness the way you're looking at me, you'd think I was showing you my six pack..."

"Eh, that's nothin'," you tease, "impressive, don't get me wrong, Mr. Midoriya- but anyone can work out. This.. takes finesse."

Izuku sprouted a warming blush over his ears, wrenching a calm exterior into place despite your loving teases.

"Finesse, huh?-"

"Slower, babe," you sink onto a palm again, batting your eyes again, "you look good like this."

"Y-You're a mess..."

"I'm your mess now, handsome."

Izuku peeks up and out towards the hall having just settling his right cuff into place. Then, he's looking back to you all mushy at what he finds there. Complete love. It's earned you a kiss -to affirm his feelings for you, of course!- but also to get you to stop fawning over him where anyone could see.

Your fingers will trail over the sensitive undersides of his wrists while he cups your cheeks into place. Any insecurity he may have once held about his scarring has been snuffed out by you a long time ago, but Izuku now realizes it's not just an accepted sight, but a welcome one.

"Good to know this is a sure method to get your attention, honey," he'll whisper between kisses.

It's the preemptive motive that gets you:

Izuku is so ready and willing to help anyone at a moment's notice, to take charge and get things done: to the point where watching him prep to get his weathered hands involved is an attractive sight. He's the first to go the extra mile for you, no ask too big or favor too small.

It might be a quick adjustment to his outfit for comfort, but the look suits him so well. So yes, even as he rolls up his shirt sleeves, you find him insanely, unfairly handsome.

[420korn]

BY THE SEA

⛧ when you and dwayne leave the dreadful beauty pageant to get some fresh air some things spill out, more than intended for the day.

- no warnings!! maybe mild cursing

(dwayne x fem! reader)

as you and dwayne flop on the worn-out chairs in the random room you two stumbled in you sighed.

this whole roadtrip that dwayne basically begged you to go on was chaotic to say the least. his grandpa passed away, he found out he couldn’t fly jets, that damn horn on the car wouldn’t shut up, but you still were there for dwayne.

you really liked dwayne. it was a miracle that he actually allowed you to talk to him and become somewhat apart of his life. he didn’t let anyone do that. you had to admit you have a crush on him. but you knew he didn’t like you, most definitely not.

you snapped out of your hazy thoughts as two little girls ran across the hall. giggling in puffy skirts, tons of makeup they didn’t need, and reeking of fake spray tan mixed with strong fruity perfume.

you had already had enough of that shit after seeing a room full of girls who looked like that. as you were about to sit up and ask dwayne to leave he spoke for you

“let’s get out of here.”

“yes please. my head hurts from all the colors.”

-🦇

you two ended up on the pier, watching as the waves clashed with each other and people screaming with joy. you smiled to yourself.

you took a glance at dwayne, knowing that it was stupid because if you looked you wouldn’t be able to pry your eyes away.

you looked at his dyed jet black hair flowing in the wind, his shirt going in all different directions as he leaned up against the wood.

he finally looked up at you, feeling the pair of admiring eyes on him.

“what?” he said with a grin

“nothing.. im sorry for everything that happened today. it’s been fucking crazy.”

“it’s okay really. im sorry for making you come with me. if i knew it was gonna be this bad i wouldn’t have even thought you should’ve came.”

“no it’s okay! im happy i came. im happy i was able to comfort you..” you said taking a risk with this response.

dwayne’s face slightly heated up at this comment, even if the winds made it as cold as ever.

“i have a question though..why did you ask for me to come?”

dwayne’s face heated up even more. he thought it was obvious why he asked for you to come, why he said if you came he would go. dwayne was head over heels for you. you both had the same music taste, sense of humor, style, and he thought you were stunning. the way you tried so hard to adjust to him and his calmer life style made him even more in love.

he honestly didn’t know whether to hide his admiration by making a quick white lie..or to truly show his feelings.

dwayne stared down at the ocean with one thing on his mind ‘fuck it’.

now dwayne would never have this type of confidence, but some random talk with his uncle frank about how you only live once, and to do whatever you want and fuck the rest, got him to change his thinking

“i thought it would be obvious.” he said trying to make it subtle.

“what do you mean?” you said confused.

“i like you.”

it was silent..the wind blowing across the sea becoming louder and louder as dwayne looked and read your face.

nothing…

but then..a shy smile. he didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he let out a deep sigh.

“really?”

“yeah..i’ve liked you for a while ya know..”

you smiled even harder at him, more red and pink tints filling your cheeks. he was trying hard to not smile but couldn’t help it.

“youre so cute” you said focusing on his eyes.

he looked down, embarrassed by how hot his face was.

you slowly crept over to him, closing the distance between you two. you reached for his hand on the railing and held his pinky with your own, not wanting to move too quickly.

he picked himself up off the railing looking at you for a moment and back to the ocean

that’s when he felt a pair of lips softly kiss his cheeks, the gloss in which covered your lips definitely staining it. he looked down at you, a grin on your face.

“you ready to go inside?” you said now taking his hand in yours.

>🎱🐼📖

THATS IT!!! bro i know months ago i said i would post more, BUT I HAD NO IDEAS. this just came to mind when i was randomly watching little miss sunshine for the 20th time. plzplzplz request some stuff so i can have motivation to post and have good ideas PLEASE!!!!

thank you for reading !! 🦈💤🤍

[frvnkcastles]

May I please request something w Frank where he has a punching bag set up in the apartment, and whenever you're over at his and you feel so many emotions flare up you excuse yourself sweetly and beat the hell out of the bag? And it gets to the point where you use the spare key when he's away just to use the bag? And when he comes back from an outing as the punisher he finds you curled up on the couch with split knuckles, a boxers fracture and crying, bot only from the pain of the fracture but just all of the emotions. And he takes you to the hospital to get your hands seen to and you have to wear a splint for a month which hinders you in which he helps?

Just comfort, maybe a touch 18+ when he has to help you bathe and change? Thank you!

THE WARMTH OF YOUR ARMS ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You fracture your hand while channeling all your emotions into Frank’s punching bag, and he looks after you.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, implied sexual content, gender neutral reader

Word count: 2.3k

Author’s note: Anon I am truly sooo sorry it took me so long to get to this, I really hope it was worth the wait! Sending you much love <3

Dating Frank came with many perks, like always having a guard dog disguised as a big, burly man or coming home just to find dinner ready and a bath about to be drawn. He took amazing care of you and he wouldn’t have it any other way, and it made you indescribably happy. That said, you still had a lot of stress and anger and sadness to get off of your shoulders, and that was where another upside of being Frank came in.

He had a punching bag set up in his apartment, just for his convenience, and you found great enjoyment in watching him beat it up, all sweaty and breathing heavily. But when you came over to his place after a long, frustrating day at work, the annoyance too much to bear, he suggested giving the punching bag a go. He showed you how to angle your fists and how to avoid hurting yourself, and as soon as he let go of you, you rained Hell on the bag, grunting and shouting while unleashing all your rage.

Ever since, your go-to for releasing pent-up emotions was attacking the bag, and Frank encouraged it. It helped you in ways that talking couldn’t always do, even if Frank always made sure to check in with you afterwards and calmed you down with lots of kisses and caresses. It was a good outlet for you, and he liked to see you free that animal inside of you that just needed to hurt something to feel better.

”Want you to have this, sweetheart”, Frank spoke up one day, approaching you on the couch of his living room with something in his fingertips. Once he handed it over, you realized it was a key, and instantly, your heart fluttered in your chest. It was a big step in your relationship, and he could see the surprise in your eyes, prompting him to go on. ”I know, I know. I just want ya to know that you’re always welcome here and that you have the right to stop by even if I ain’t home. I know you love that punching bag, so want you to use it anytime you’d like, yeah?” he explained, the look in his eyes serious. When you gave him an eager nod, though, he broke into a smile.

”I’ll take you up on that, baby.”

And you did. The bag wasn’t the only reason you visited, you also liked to take care of him the same way he took care of you by cleaning up or cooking for him, or leaving a new book on his bedside table. Still, you appreciated the chance to de-stress whenever you wanted, and you claimed that offer on multiple occasions.

The first time you regretted it was on a particularly bad day. Your emotions were getting the best of you and you felt so burdened and weighed down, unsure what else to do except go to Frank’s apartment. You knew he was out doing his thing, so you couldn’t get support from him, leaving you no option to go at the punching bag.

As you punched and punched, tears prickled at your eyes and you began to lose track of time. Your vision blurred and your head pounded, just like you were pounding the bag with your fists. You felt so angry and defeated at the same time, it was gnawing at you from the inside and you just wanted the bad feeling to go away.

You fell into a daze that you couldn’t break out of — until your hand cracked against the bag and the shock of the pain got a wail out of you. You stopped, doubling over while holding your hand, and pained cries escaped your mouth. The ache was terrible and agonizing and you couldn’t move your hand properly, sending panic coursing through you. Your breathing became ragged and as your head was spinning, you stumbled over to Frank’s couch to ground yourself and avoid falling over.

You supported your hand with your other one, unable to stop crying as the pain mixed in with the storm of emotions inside you. You were overwhelmed and it was causing you to freeze when you should have called Frank, your body shutting down while you sobbed on the couch.

You lucked out, as Frank had called it an early night and headed home sooner than expected. Once he made it to his front door, he heard your cries from inside, and within seconds, worry flared up in his chest and he was rushing to get inside. Whatever had happened, he needed to help you, not caring about the grime on him or the swelling on his eye anymore.

Bursting through the door, he dropped his bag on the floor and stomped over to you, eyes wide with concern. ”Baby, baby, what happened? Hey, ’m here, talk to me. Are you hurt?” he questioned, quickly assessing the situation and noticing you holding your hand in pain. He felt sick to his stomach, not to mention impatient to get to the bottom of what had happened — he didn’t do so well with being in the dark, especially when it came to something as important as you and your well-being.

”I had a terrible day, so—so I came here to punch it out but I really hurt my hand and I just feel so awful”, you rambled, almost non-sensical but Frank understood enough of it. His frown deepened but he nodded to confirm that he got you, and softly, he reached to wipe away your tears from your warm cheeks.

”I gotchu, darlin’. Can I see that hand? Lemme look”, he requested, and shaking viciously, you let him cradle your hand and observe it carefully. When he turned it just a little, you winced, and he immediately felt bad. ”Sorry, sweetheart. Think it’s fractured. I’mma gonna take you to the emergency room, aight?” he explained, and still weeping, you nodded. He sighed and leaned in to kiss your forehead, hoping to console you at least a little.

”It’s gon’ be okay, I promise. You can tell me all about your day soon, sweetheart. We just need to get that hand looked at”, he insisted before helping you up from the couch and leading you to the front door. And before stepping out, he sent a mean glare at the punching bag, reconsidering whether it was a good idea to have it or not.

He drove you to the emergency room, feeling like shit the whole time. You were holding your hand and sniffling the entire drive and he kept telling you it would be alright and he wasn’t going anywhere, but it didn’t alleviate his anguish. He wanted to take your pain away, both physical and emotional, leaving him feeling hopeless when he couldn’t do that.

You were fortunate in that it wasn’t too busy at this time of the night, and a doctor was able to see you after only a moment of waiting. Frank stood behind you while you were being examined, practically your protective shadow, and you felt a little better about your shitty day just because he was there. You hadn’t gotten to rant yet, but only his presence had a soothing effect on you.

You had to get your hand x-rayed, turning your night into a long one, but while you were waiting for the results, Frank got you some snacks for the vending machine. He watched you closely as you sadly munched on a chocolate bar, lacking all enthusiasm, and he could tell you had been completely drained by the day.

”What happened today, huh? We got some time, so ’m all ears, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he inquired with a solemn look. He hated that you were hurting on the outside, but he knew the doctor would be able to do more than he could himself, so he decided to focus on what was happening on the inside.

Sighing, you glanced at him. ”It feels stupid now. Probably wasn’t worth breaking my hand”, you pointed out, and with an unamused chuckle, Frank gave your shoulder a slight nudge.

”C’mon. Y’know I don’t mind. I wanna hear all ’bout what’s goin’ on with my baby”, he emphasized, knowing that without a little pressure you would have just bottled it up, and he didn’t like that. He wanted to know everything, help in any way he could, and he wouldn’t allow you to feel bad for leaning on him.

So, you detailed everything that had pushed you over the edge and made you feel so terrible. Sometimes it was hard to understand the extreme emotions in you but up until now, the punching bag had been a great way for you to release everything.

”That sounds real tough, darlin’. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner, y’know? I never wanna see you hurtin’ in any way”, he sighed once you were finished, caressing your unharmed hand. ”Thinkin’ we gotta get rid of the punching bag. I ain’t riskin’ you gettin’ banged up like this again. We’ll figure somethin’ else out, yeah?” he noted, though he wasn’t really looking to debate about it — to him, it was already a done deal. Anything that got you hurt was out immediately.

”Talking to you helps. Thanks for listening, Frankie”, you admitted, smiling at him softly, and he returned it, albeit smaller and sneakier.

”Anytime, sweetheart. Love you, aight? I’mma make sure tomorrow is a better day”, he swore, warming your heart as you dropped your head onto his shoulder.

”Love you, too.”

Finally, the doctor called you back in, and as feared, your hand was fractured. The remedy was a splint you were bound to wear for a month, and as he attached it to your hand, you thought about all the things you were going to struggle with for the next 30 days.

”Some help will probably be needed with routine things like cooking, cleaning, that kind of stuff”, the doctor mentioned, and before you even had time to feel bad and like a burden, Frank was responding.

”That ain’t a problem. I’ll take care of everythin’ for as long as necessary”, he stated simply, giving you a stern look. ”No arguments, you hear me? I’m lookin’ after you, not gonna let you outta my sight”, he proclaimed, and unable to hide a smile, you agreed.

He took you home and right away, you were faced with problems that only Frank could help with. ”I was hoping to take a bath…”, you trailed off shyly, but it was all Frank needed to hear.

”You got it, sweetheart. C’mere”, he wrapped an arm around you and steered you into the bathroom where he plugged the tub before starting the tap. As the tub began to fill up, he gently reached for the hem of your shirt, giving you a questioning look. ”Aight if I help you undress?” he asked, and already nodding, you lifted your arms.

”Always”, you affirmed, and with consent acquired, he began peeling your clothes off. He started with your shirt, and as soon as your chest was revealed, his eyes lingered. You could tell he was trying to be respectful, but you grinned, nonetheless. ”See something you like, mister?” you teased, and with a snort, Frank licked his lips.

”Y’know I do. Can’t get enough of you, darlin’”, he praised, his eyes dark as he towered over you and unbuttoned your jeans. As he shimmied them down your thighs and legs, he brushed his hands across your underwear and you saw him swallow hard. ”Fuckin’ perfect”, he muttered under his breath, boosting your ego as he tossed your jeans aside.

Once you were completely naked, he had to stop himself from letting his hands roam, although you wouldn’t have minded. Still, he showed restraint as he helped you step into the tub and get seated comfortably. Rolling up his sleeves, he grabbed the shampoo, ready to wash your hair for you, and you felt heat rise to your face at the thought of your own uselessness.

”Sorry about this”, you sighed as he was massaging your scalp, his thick fingers expertly scrubbing the shampoo into your hair. It was going to be a long month, and you feared he would get sick of it, but he was quick to reassure otherwise.

”Nah, don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’ll always take care of you, got that? I ain’t lettin’ you go through this alone”, he vowed, his loyalty to you unwavering. He had been unable to prevent you getting hurt in the first place, but he sure as hell was going to stick around for the aftermath. ”Think you should stay here for the next month, yeah? Don’t want you strugglin’ at home by yourself”, he added, and with a careful smile, you nodded.

”I’d like that”, you beamed before continuing, ”you sure it’s gonna be okay?”

With a confident smile, Frank stopped massaging your hair just enough to tilt his head at you and meet your gaze. ”I’m sure, sweet darlin’. I’mma make sure things go smoothly”, he spoke with conviction, fully intending to take care of everything for the next month — and after that, too.

He stayed true to his word. Your fractured hand came in the way of far more things than you had anticipated, but Frank watched you like a hawk and you never had to ask, he was already there. He cooked for you, letting you take charge with some of the easier steps to involve you in the process, and he helped you get dressed every morning, admittedly with wandering hands and a hungry stare. He wouldn’t let you do anything by yourself, just to be safe, but he also didn’t let you feel like a burden, always ready to console you and remind you that you were one day closer to getting the splint off.

And just like he had said, the punching bag was gone.