#so what that vice ate it on the way home

[ohmy-gojo]

i gave a second chance to cupid!

or arranged marriage with nanami kento

– nanami was told that he has to get married by his parents

– since no one caught his eye he just let his parents choose for him

– nanamis secretly a hopeless romantic, so he cant help but be dissapointed in the setting. now all he hopes is that his partner is kind

– he was shown your picture and well, he found you really pretty but he also knows looks are not everything. if youre nice and understanding than he could live the rest of his life with you

– a date was set prior your marriage as to help you get to know each other

– nanami and you showed up at the spot. you were even prettier in person. and when you both started talking, it seemed like you were a little shy so it was mostly him leading the conversation

– he asked about your likes and dislikes, your dreams, your hobbies, what food you like and even your favorite color

– your mannerisms and the way you talked was very endearing to him

– you also asked about him and got to know about his dangerous life as a sorcerer, it worried you to know the man youre marrying has to constantly put his life in risk

– all in all the date went pretty well and he was happy that he got a partner like you and vice versa.

– you both went on multiple dates before the marriage. sometimes you chose the places (amusement parks and fairs) while sometimes he chose (museums and aquariums)

– during that time you both became comfortable with each other. nanami now genuinely enjoyed spending time with you rather than thinking of it as merely a duty. now he can say that hes a little excited to marry you and live with you

– after your marriage everything was the same except you saw each other everyday. you both wake up and make breakfast together, eat and leave for work together

– you also broke out of your shy phase, now you always fill nanami about your day. sending him texts on his lunch break about how hes doing and if he ate

– you make his house more lively bc of your creativity. theres a new cover you handmade for the table and stickers even on the fans

– slowly you both start to fall for each other. it was you who fell first tho and how could you not

– and when you realized you loved him well, you were never good with words so you became more affectionate with him

– shyly giving him pecks on the cheek (first time you did that nanami was frozen, you were afraid he was uncomfortable then you saw the tips of his ears reddening) from then on, you were unstoppable. kissing him when he leaves for wokr and when he comes back home. you also loved to run your hands through his hair.

– even though you fell first, nanami was the one who fell harder

– now he really cant imagine a day without your presence. hes slowly getting used to you and your mannerisms. you fussing over him when he's overworking, always making sure he ate, taking off his glasses and pecking his forehead when he fell asleep reading a book (he could feel you doing that) and your late night conversations

– you made his house a home. it took him some time to realize that he has fallen for you

– now you both cant keep your hands to yourselves lol. he always has to have a hand in your waist

– nanamis love is shown in the way he protects you. from glaring at people who randomly touch you in the crowed train to making sure you dont hit your head in the corner of table

– he also spoils you. remember on the first date you told him about your likes, hobbies and dreams? he remembers all that and gets you whatever you wished

– you guys still hadnt gone in your honeymoon so he and you visited malaysia after the shibuya incident. that was when nanami confessed his love for you. you replied that you love him too with tears in your eyes. it was really the perfect moment for both of you, away from all the sorcery and tensions of the world.

– nanami kento, the hopeless romantic is now getting the love he deserves in this arranged marriage with you

[blueheron15]

TOO SOON TO TELL YOU I LOVE YOU

pairing: jj x fem!routledge!reader

summary: jj navigating his childhood and adolescence while seeing john b as a brother, but y/n as something… more.

warnings: flangst, suggested smut

a/n: wow this was longer than i thought it was gonna be and thats why i am edging yall with the ending... THERE WILL BE A PART TWO

jj and john b had been brothers since third grade. it was common knowledge for everyone on the island. don't cross john b unless you wanted to deal with jj, too, or vice versa. it was a well-known fact.

they began playing together at recess, and soon, john b came back home talking about his new friend. he would eventually begin bringing two lunches to school with him so jj could actually eat.

the first time they hung out outside of school, they went fishing off of the ocean at the chateau. they were called inside for lunch by the ringing of a bell.

"wut was that?" jj asked in his southern drawl, toothless mouth quirking in confusion as he dropped a minnow back into the water.

"my daddy's callin' us back for lunch." john b explained, beginning to pull up the anchor of the johnboat.

"is your daddy nice?" jj asked, helping his friend gather the ropes.

"he's just a normal dad." john b shrugged, adjusting his hat before starting the motor.

"my dad hates me." jj explained, as if it were a simple fact of life. he sat down.

"well, i think mine'll like you."

from that day on, jj had practically been adopted into the routledge family. the littlest sibling, y/n routledge, was only five when they met, and was relatively closed off at first. while the four of them ate at the table that day, big john had shown an affection towards his son and jj, but made no effort to include his daughter in the conversation.

the age gap, which seemed significant at first, slowly dwindled away as john b's friend group expanded to the rest of the pogues. y/n hung out with them sometimes, too.

jj had always thought she was nice, and he enjoyed getting a rise out of her, but his best friend for life was her brother. that's who he was looking for on the night he happened to fall in love with her.

y/n was 12, and jj was 14. he knew john b was at a small party kiara was throwing (a farewell party to kildare high school, if you will), but he was hoping he would be back by one am. jj stumbled into the chateau, tripping over the step into the house.

"shit!" he cursed, his already bruised cheek making contact with the dusty hardwood floor. "ugghhhh" he groaned, slowly hoisting himself up.

"jj?" he heard a voice mumble.

his head snapped up, finding y/n standing in the kitchen. suddenly, his cheeks flushed as he looked at his star wars pajama pants, embarrassed that she was seeing him like this. "uh, yeah." he cleared his throat, taking a step further into the dimly lit house. "hey, y/n."

he could have sworn he heard her sniffle, but she too took a step forward, flicking on the living room light.

"isn't it passed your bedtime?" jj asked, at the same time y/n said "what happened to you?"

his hand made it's way to the back of his neck, scratching. "nuthing." he said dismissively. "just got inta an argument with my old man."

her face contorted into a frown, walking up to him and grabbing his arm. as she lead him into the bathroom, he had a strange thought that she looked adorable in her polka dot pajama pants and one of pope's old t shirts.

"why'd he do this to you?" she asked softly, grabbing disinfecting ointment from the cabinet. "sit on the toilet so i can clean you up."

jj rolled his eyes, deflecting. "i dont need you to clean me up. was lookin' for your brother anyway."

"well," she started, confirming his previous thought. "john b's not here, and neither is my dad cuz he never is, and in case you didn't know, it's been 10 years since my mama left, and i'm all alone, and i'd really not like to be alone right now so could you please just sit?"

she finished her rant with a stray tear leaking down her cheek, a red face, and a huff of air. jj tried not to let his grin show. they way she got so flustered, the way she annunciated each word, made his heart flutter despite the heaviness of the situation. "hold your horses, i'll stay." he said, raising his hands up in surrender.

he sat down on the toilet lid as she tended to his busted lip, cut under eye, and bruised cheek. she worked in silence for a little while.

"he did this to me cuz im a piece of shit." he eventually muttered.

"you're not." she insisted, shaking her head.

"you only think that because i'm john b's friend." he scoffed. "maybe he's right, anyway. he caught me stealin from the gas station. maybe i deserved this."

she looked at him. jesus, jj thought, when did her eyes become so... pretty? "you didn't think we're friends?"

jj looked down at the floor, before bashfully meeting her gaze. "guess we are now."

jj slept over, obviously, and they sat together on the couch as she showed him the only existing photo of her and her mother.

"i wonder if she would like me if she knew me now." y/n thought out loud.

jj took it upon himself to use humor to make her feel better. "pretend im your mom." he shrugged.

"what?" she squeaked, looking at him like he was crazy.

he cleared his throat before raising it an octave to make him sound like a woman. "oh, y/n!" he exclaimed, grabbing the ends of her hair. "my daughter, you're sooo beautiful!"

"ew!" she she giggled as jj got closer and closer to her. "get off me jj!" she laughed, playfully shoving him away.

"you don't want some lovin' from your mama?" he teased, still in a girly voice.

she kicked him gently, squealing in delight at his antics. "you're not my mama!" she insisted.

they began wrestling playfully, jj pushing her so she was laying on the couch, pinning her down. and, when john b walked in, he thought it was nothing more than some classic routledge and maybank sibling bonding.

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from that moment on, there was an undeniable shift between the two of them. somehow, y/n had gone from nice, to adorable, to pretty at her thirteenth birthday party. the pogues and some of her girlfriends from school had been invited to the chill hang out at the chateau.

she was talking to some of her other friends, in a lovely white sundress and brown cow boy boots, when jj nearly choked on the vodka he had added into his lemonade.

"i never realized how pretty y/n was." pope commented, swinging on the hammock.

"what?!" jj shrieked, spitting out his drink.

"ew, dude." kiara said, rolling her eyes.

"don't you think she looks nice?" pope inquired.

"uh, well, i mean, um" jj stuttered. "what?"

"that's all i'm sayin, dude. y/n is-"

"y/n is what?" john b asked, joining them.

"pope's got a lil crush." kie said, smirking.

"t-this is outrageous!" jj exclaimed.

"why do you even care?" asked kie.

"b-because-"

"obviously because she's like a sister to him and it's gross." john b explained, rolling his eyes. "new rule. no macking on my sister."

"you got that pope?" jj asked seriously, pointing an accusatory finger.

"i wasn't planning on macking on her!" pope cried, defending himself.

jj huffed. "good." he muttered under his breath. he definitely did think pope macking on y/n would be gross. but not for the reason john b had said. something stirred within his chest. it was a gross, green feeling.

...was he jealous?

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when jj was sixteen and when y/n was fourteen, the "no macking on y/n" rule had been transformed into the "no pogue on pogue macking" rule. this was due to both y/n and kiara being mature enough to wear bikinis. like, proper bikinis.

it was the first day of summer break. kiara was back from the kook academy, jj didn't have to deal with fucking geometry anymore, he snuck off the previous night with some touron older girl and had his first time behind a tree, and holy hell life was good. the pogues joined some other students at the beach for surfing and a bonfire.

but his eyes were on y/n.

shit, was he a pervert? after all, she was only 14, and one of his best friends. she came fishing with him and john b even though she didn’t particularly enjoy the activity. they were constantly play wrestling, or giving each other sea shells as little gifts. and, jj constantly called her mama, much to john b’s demise. it was one of their inside jokes.

she had just looked so good in her blue bikini and she was actually growing boobs. as jj sat on the sand, watching her surf, he barely noticed kiara and another girl approach him.

“hey, j!” kie called.

“‘sup?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of y/n. she was an amazing surfer, but he was ready to jump into action if she happened to wipe out.

“this is lacy.” kiara said, motioning to the girl next to him. she had a nice rack and a sexy body, with beautiful blonde hair. “i went to the look academy with her.”

“oh?” jj said, raising a brow. “a kook, huh? watchu doin’ on this side of the island, princess?” he shamelessly flirted. kie rolled her eyes in disgust, but lacy placed her palm against a tree, leaning in seductively.

“everyone on figure eight thinks they’re too proper to have fun for a night.” she shrugged.

jj grinned. he was catching her drift, alright.

he brought her back to chateau and fucked her good. well, at least he tried to. but with the image of y/n in his mind, he came in like 15 seconds. he made it up to her by eating her out, which was divine, pleasing her in the way he believed every woman should be.

lacy left, and after jj cleaned himself up and put on a fresh pair of boxers and gray sweatpants, he exited big john’s room, which was now practically his after the man’s disappearance, to get a drink.

he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw y/n sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter. she gave him a knowing look, rolling her eyes as the tears fell.

“shit.” he cursed, walking up to her. “uh. you heard that?”

she scoffed. “everyone heard it. i don’t care about that, though. it’s just… i… do you think i’m pretty, jj?”

“what’re you talkin about?”

she hiccuped. “am i pretty?” she repeated. he let out a breath. shit, how was he supposed to answer that? hell yeah, she was pretty. but she took his silence as a no. “i know i’m not. but it’s not fair that everyone sees me as just some little kid.” she explained. “none of the guys in my grade want to date me. i h-haven’t even kissed anybody yet, and you guys are all having sex, and it’s not fair!”

he tentatively sat down on a stool next to her. “you’re still young.”

“so that means i’m ugly?” she retorted.

“i think yer the prettiest girl on this whole damn island.” jj explained. he was so vulnerable, wide blue eyes staring into hers.

“… you do?”

“i do.” he said softly, nodding. he extended a hand, tucking a stray frizzy and sun dried lock of hair behind her hair. “i really do, mama.” he wondered out loud.

“well…” her heart was beating out of her chest as she took in a shaky breath. “thank you.” she grinned cheekily, cheeks beat red.

“you’re welcome.” he said, tailing a finger down her cheek before going to get up.

“wait” she said in a distressed tone. she grabbed his arm, stood up, and quickly pulled him foreword, pressing her lips to his.

it barely lasted two seconds, and jj didn’t even have time to close his eyes before y/n was pulling away.

she stepped back, staring at him. he brought a hand up to ghost over his lips. he had never felt so much electricity. his lips were literally buzzing.

“kie told me her first kiss made her want to puke.” y/n stated. “um. are all first kisses supposed to be that good?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“uh.” he said, voice hoarse. “mine sure as hell wasn’t.”

“oh.”

“yeah… oh.”

“okay. um, g’night jay!” she squeaked, retreating into her room.

jj was doomed.

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y/n routledge had ruined every other girl for jj. he was absolutely besotted with her.

but, the problem was, he couldn't have her. john b would forbid it.

"it's just like, fuckin gross, man!" john b complained, laying on the hammock as he mindlessly threw a hackey sack in the air, catching it. "like, i don't wanna see you macking on my little sister, sorry."

"she's her own person, man." jj said, waxing his board. "just let her be."

"he's a douche." john b insisted. he wasn't very fond of y/n's first ever boyfriend. "she's only 15, why does she even need a boyfriend?"

"i got a feelin' you'll hate anyone she dates." jj replied with an eye roll.

"probably." john b cringed.

jj fought back a shudder. would he hate me if i dated her?

suddenly, y/n came speeding around the corner on her bike, pushing it to the ground and ditching it, sprinting into the house.

"what the hell?" jj asked. him and john b were immediately following her inside.

"y/n?" john b asked, swiftly approaching her. "what's wrong?"

she stood in the middle of the living room, her body wracking with sobs. "h-he... he..." she couldn't even get the words out as she covered her hand with her mouth.

"did he hurt you? what's happenin?" jj asked, concerned. he placed a hand on each of her shoulders, craning his neck down so they were at eye level with each other.

her lips quivered as she sighed, and jj's heart broke.

"he broke up w-with me." she finally managed to get out.

jj recoiled, and him and john b shared a look.

"he's dead."

that night, after the three of them laid together in bed (a y/n sandwich, with her in the middle of the two boys) and did all the girly post break up shit u see in movies together, it was nearing two am when they decided to call it a night.

jj sat on the edge of her bed for a little while, watching her tuck herself in tight underneath the covers.

"you gonna be okay?" he asked.

she hiked up a shoulder. "i'm gonna have to be."

a beat of silence passed. "he's a fuckin idiot for fumbling you." she snorted. "it's true!" jj insisted, his voice growing higher in insistence.

y/n smiled sadly. "thanks, jay."

he gave her a solute. "well, goodnight, mama." he went to get up, but she reached out.

"wait. um. i don't really wanna be alone tonight."

"oh. you want me to get jb, or...?"

in a small and vulnerable voice, she asked. "can you stay?"

"uh, y/n, im not sure how good of an-" he protested, running a hand through his messy blonde locks.

"please, jj." she begged, her voice cracking.

jj didn't stand a chance. "you know i can't say no to you." he whispered, a soft smile on his face.

y/n reached behind her, grabbing an extra pillow and handing it to him. he grabbed the extra blanket on the edge of her bed, getting comfortable on the floor.

they laid in silence for a few moments, just listening to the hum of the crickets and the crashing of the waves in the distance. jj was 99% sure she was asleep, and moved to get up, when she finally spoke.

"he broke up with me because he kept trying to force me to have sex but i didn't want to." she confessed, her words awkwardly cutting through the silence.

"are you fucking kidding me?" jj asked, disgusted.

"please don't kill him." she sighed.

"please don't kill him," jj repeated, mocking her tone. "nah, fuck that. what's this guys address? i swear, i'm gonna-"

"you're gonna do what, jj?" she retorted.

"egg his house, slash his tires, beat him up, i don't know! the point is, that was a dick move. and that's not okay to do. especially to you. cuz your-"

he stopped himself. in the midst of their heated conversation, they had both propped themselves up on their elbows, y/n looking down at jj and him looking up at her. they lowered themselves back down in to a recumbent position.

"i'm what?" y/n whispered.

jj thought for a moment. you’re my girl. you’re so incredibly special. that’s what his mind was thinking. but he couldn’t say that. could he?

“because you’re like a sister to me.” he choked out. he didn’t sound believable at all.

“am i really though?” she pressed.

jj wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. “we can’t, y/n.” he forced himself to say.

“…i know.” she conceded. “but maybe…” she thought out loud. she let a hand dangle down, off the edge of the bed. “friends can hold hands, right?”

he intertwined their fingers together, holding his arm up for her. “yeah. they can.”

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jj and y/n continued to find loopholes in order to be able to act on some of their feelings while not making it obvious for john b.

friends kissed each others cheeks. friends took naps together, bodies intertwined in the hammocks. friends got jealous of flirting. friends called each other nick names like “mama” or “baby” or “bub.”

right?

y/n was providing light in jj’s fucked up life, which become increasingly worse with this search for gold.

jj knew that y/n was having a hard time with her brother following in her fathers footsteps. this made them grow closer, as the barrier that was john b was less and less present, constantly on the go or with sarah cameron.

for fucks sake, they were held at gun point today by barry, who jj knew bc he used to sell coke to his dad.

who, speaking of which, beat him to shit. jj didn’t know how to deal with everything and so he bought a hot tub.

he couldn’t be bothered at pope and kie lecturing him. he couldn’t be bothered that he blew the money. but when y/n stepped inside the hot tub upon seeing the bruises on his abdomen, holding him tight against her chest and stroking his hair, he finally broke down.

he allowed her to dry him off and get him into some clothes. they lay together in her room, this time, both together on her bed as jj needed the physical affection.

he was practically on top of her, his face nuzzled into her neck, but she didn’t mind. she ran her fingers through his hair and up and down his back, to the point where he was practically purring and melting completely into her, mending their bodies together as one.

he was never so vulnerable, not with anyone else.

“thank you,” he croaked out. “for dealing with me.”

“hey.” she gently reprimanded. “don’t say it like it’s some kind of chore. i want to be able to help you, bub. we all do.”

he nodded, to tired to put up a fight. “only want your help tho.”

she smiled into his temple. “i feel like you’re the only person who actually gets me.“ she admitted.

“me too.”

that morning, upon waking up, the two of them had shifted to jj spooning her from behind, holding on tightly. and y/n didn’t mind one bit.

“morning,” she whispered sleepily, intertwining their legs together.

he groaned, stretching his legs out, but not separating them from hers. “mornin’”

“i gotta show ya somethin” he said after a few minutes of laying there admiring y/n. she looked so serene and peaceful in his arms, the sunlight streaming in from the windows and making her look like an angel.

“uh oh what did you steal?” she joked.

“i didn’t steal anything.” he said with an eye roll, sitting up and walking out of the room momentarily. he returned with something shiny in his hands. “i got u somethin when i splurged on the hot tub.”

“jj” she gently chided, propping herself up on her elbows.

“it’s fine.” he protested. “everyone knows the cats ass is dope as fuck. here.”

he held out a gold chain with a small j on it.

y/n held it in her hands, smiling down at it, then looking up at him.

“j as in…” she trailed off, smirking. “jj?”

he nodded and unspoken words passed between them. he put in on her neck, and she thought to herself that she would never take it off.

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the night of john b and sarah’s “death” was the best and worst night of y/n and jj’s lives.

“we… we lost em.” shoupe said, his words echoed by the booming thunder. “i’m sorry.”

“you lost them? what do you mean you lost them? like they’re gone? what are you talking about?” pope tried to frantically clarify.

jj’s jaw clenched. kiara’s face dropped. and y/n just stood there, numb as her heart plummeted into a deep abyss.

“they took an open boat into a tropical depression, pope.” the officer explained.

“so they’re dead?” kie asked.

“we don’t know.” said shoupe.

jj’s anger took over. “you drove em straight into the storm, man! are you kidding me?! come here!” he growled, pummeling shoupe.

“jj, stop!” kiara cried.

“get over here! i’m gonna kill you you bastard! you killed them!” he said, trying to fight off the other cops who were restraining him.

pope tried to reason with shoupe, and kiara was begging for it all to stop.

everything was going in slow motion for y/n. her brother… her brother was dead. there was no way he and sarah could have made it through that storm.

as kiara’s parents enveloped her into a hug, and as pope’s parents came in, extremely worried for their son and his friends, jj and y/n made eye contact.

all they had left was each other.

jj calmed down, and when he ripped himself out of the police’s grip, he walked toward y/n who ran and jumped up into his arms. he held her tight, silent tears running down his cheeks as she wailed.

“no, no!” she whimpered, clinging to jj as if they were the last two people on earth.

“i know baby.” he tried to comfort. “i know.”

they found themselves in the porch the chateau, each sitting on an opposite end of the couch, staring outside. jj was smoking his weed and y/n took the occasion puff.

both of their voices were hoarse and eyes were puffy from crying.

“what am i gonna do?” she wondered, voice cracking. “you can’t let them take me away, jj. y-you can’t.”

“and i won’t.” he promised. “i swear. no one is gonna take you, or hurt you. ever. okay? if they do it’s gonna be over my dead body.”

he scooted closer towards her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into him.

“my brother.” jj said solemnly, shaking his head and exhaling a puff of weed. “john b was, is, my brother. i don’t know, man… do you think he’s really dead?”

“i don’t know. i don’t know anything anymore.” she whispered.

“well, there’s one thing i do know.” he said. “with everything happening… shit, who knows? who knows what’ll happen to us? i just… i-i gotta tell ya… john b may be like a brother to me, but you were never like a sister to me.”

with wide eyes, she turned her head towards him. “jj… what are you saying?”

“i’m sayin that… y/n i’ve never seen you as just jb’s lil sister. i’ve always seen you as- as you. you know i’m not good at expressing my feelings.” he took a deep breath, nervous. but he looked into her eyes. “but i want to try.”

she smiled, for the first time all night.

“you’re cute, but somehow sexy at the same time. you make me wanna actually open up to you, and be vulnerable, and be better. a-and, you’re so fucking funny too, dude. i know you’ve always struggled with separating yourself from your dad and john b. and maybe sometimes you think that nobody notices you. but y/n, you’re all i notice. you’re everywhere, all the time, and it’s so scary. but… what’s scarier is the fact that i could lose you like john b and you would always think i saw you as a little sister.”

she snorted at that through the tears. she was rendered speechless.

jj let out a shaky breath. she closed the small distance between the two of them, straddling his hips as they kissed with the taste of weed, perfume, and salty tears invading their senses.

they kept crying hard, but kept kissing harder.

“i love you.” jj said. and once it left his lips, it’s like the damn burst. “fuck i love you so much y/n. i love you so much. we’re gonna be okay. i got you. i got you, mama.”

“i love you” she said, nodding her head. “i love you too, jj.”

so it was safe to say that jj loved each of the routledge siblings.

but y/n?

that was his girl. his person.

(and, when john b came back from the dead, he’d be grossed out to see jj and his little sister macking. but he knew jj would do anything for her.

so, when y/n routledge became y/n maybank a few years later, john b and jj would actually be brothers.)

it was always gonna be P4L, but it was routledge and maybank first.

he used a hand to hold her back, gently flipping them over so that he was hovering on top of her, his beautiful biceps caging her in.

he slid his tongue over her bottom lip and she granted him entrance as they made out. wanting, needing to be closer, she hooked her ankles around his lower back, arching into him and feeling his erection.

"fuck" he panted. he trailed his kisses lower, nipping her ear lobe, sucking on her neck.

"mm r-remember when my first boyfriend broke up with me?" she said through whimpers. "i didn't wanna have sex with him. n-not because i wasn't ready, but because... i always wanted it to be you."

he let out a groan. "jesus, y/n..." he detached his lips from her neck, loving the hickey that had formed there.

"jj... please. i need you." she said, tears staining her cheeks.

he kissed them away. "i need you too, mama." he breathed. they looked into each other's eyes. "ive never needed anyone so bad. all those other girls... they were to distract me from you because i never thought this would happen."

"john b made it a rule to not mack on you." he continued.

she smiled, but it was quickly replaced by a sob at the mention of her brother.

"let me take care of you.. i can't stand to see you hurtin like this."

"please" she whimpered.

and so, she let her legs fall to each side of jj's torso, and he began shimmying down her shorts...

taglist:

@4jjsbank @mkcolon1 @agnxstic @groovypeanutoperatorzonk @starsval @sollamimi @obxcc @onelonelybitch @tv-girllover07

[small-sinclair]

Possessed

Obsessed!Bo Sinclair x fem!reader

NSFW. 18+. No minors!!!!!!🔞

Tw: being eaten out, face fucking, nakedness, bottom/needy Bo, obsessed Bo, fluffy aftercare

I love obsessed Bo. He’s my favorite to write.

He practically stormed into the house at the end of the day. He wasn’t mad about his day or anything, he just needed you. He wanted your love in his heart and filling his mouth. Bo needs you in more ways he could say. Once he found you in the parlor, putting away some board games, all beats were off.

He tossed his hat to the floor and kicked off his boots. “Sweetheart,” he breathed desperately. His eyes had hearts and it swirled around like a storm. “I need you—no,” he pressed you against the pool table, practically cornering you, “want you. I wanted ya so bad it hurt today jus’ t’do work.” He kissed your neck then shoulder.

His eyes locked with yours, and he admired you the same way a stone carved admired a block. “Bo?” You whispered, kissing his cheek. “What gotten into you today?”

“You, cherie,” he breathed. “Always been you.”

Bo pressed his lips against yours hungrily. His hands were too busy ripping your clothes off and letting it go the ground until you stood naked and bare in front of him. Before he could give you much of a chance to respond and protest, he feel to his knees and pulled your hips closer, spreading your legs out.

He was like a possessed man as his tongue pressed inside you, his heavy, blown out eyes softening. He felt as if he hadn’t ate in days as he lapped you up. His tongue swirled with every breath and moan you made. He melted as your hands pulled his hair slightly, earning a deep growl from the back off his throat. He pushes up on his knees, needing more of you in his mouth, more of your taste. There was a type of freedom that came with it, a type of comfort which he couldn’t quite name. Bo loves you, but the way your would moan his name and fight against him only to fail…something bloomed in his chest and through the cracks of his concrete heart.

“B-Bo!”

He held your hips down as his nose buried into your clint, taking deep breaths, as he retraced the letter again and again. Turns out, you got off on the letters ‘Q, R, S’, but he’ll never complain. He loved the sweet music pouring from your lips. You sounded like a siren from some story he read. If that’s the case, let him be the sailor, your harbor, and your home.

He drank you dry and ate you starved over and over again, never slowing for a second. He was obsessed with the noises you made. He was in love with the smell of your body and the taste on his tongue. As you trembled to his touch, he loved every bit of you. As your rocked your hips against his face, he only licked and sucked deeper. Every inch of him was screaming for him to hit that spot, but his hands held your legs and thighs tightly. The friction made it too tight as he felt himself grow more and more desperate for your touch and approval, but he didn’t touch himself. He wouldn’t do it until you command it. For now, he let your hips roll over his cheeks and face, letting you get lost, letting you use him as a tool and a vice at your disposal. He savored your body and taste as his tongue swirled.

When he felt you clenched around his tongue, he felt his eyes closing and roll as he drank every drop of your organism, pure ambrosia of the gods. He felt thankful, felt blessed, felt blissfully at peace.

He felt you grow limp above him, and he caught you in his arms in a moment. Your legs were shaking as he guided you to the couch and laid you on the sofa, setting up on pillow, and slid down to your thighs. He his hair was soaked and he looked like some type of beautiful mess. He kissed your lips gently, shivering at the mere touch.

He began licking you clean, kissing your skin numb as he whispered gentle praises of you, telling you everything he loved about you from your thighs to your stretch marks. His hands racked over the aching muscles as he kisses up your stomach. He let you unbutton his shirt so you could touch his chest and trace his scars lightly.

“More,” he whispers, unraveling. “Want more, darlin’. Please, let me have more?” He’s not one to beg, not one to say out loud what he wanted, so this was a rare moment. Bo shudders as your hand ghosts his cheek. “Been leavin’ ya alone in dis house for too long. Ain’t fair, cher, ‘at I can’t have ya in the shop. It ain’t fair I can’t have ya at all.” He lift your head up slightly and began to suck and kiss a part on your skin. Your gasps turned into him moaning his name.

“Please,” came from your lips, causing him to groan and bite down on your skin, deepening the color on your neck. “Beauregard, have me.”

His real name on your lips made his heart ache. His hands played with the mounds on your chest, rolling them with every breath he took of you. Bo kisses the bruise on your neck as your back arched to his touch.

“Yes, of course, sweetheart,” he says, capturing your lips. “Anything you desire,” he leaned close and kiss your beside ear, “will be yours.”

[gguk-n]

Just an idea, but if you could write a smau about a f1 driver reader having a bts member as her bf. Then him just being a supportive wag.

I had so much fun doing this. Also the only person I could think about was Yoongi!!

Yoongi Marry Me

2023

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by agustd, alex_albon and 23,480 others

y/n.y/l/n Welcome to my new home 🏠

alex_albon It's nice to have you on board y/bff/user my baby finally made it😭😭 user1 my queen❤️ user2 congratulations❤️❤️ user3 Yoongi in the likes love men repping women🥹 user4 all the best bbg😙😙

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by agustd, williamsracing and 239,380 others

y/n.y/l/n First race down!! 21 more to go😅

williamsracing so excited for the rest😏😏 user5 great start!!😌 user6 she's here on a mission and i love it🥹 user7 not her having her first race and launching her boyfriend the same weekend😍 user8 listen i don't like to speculate but it looks like someone....😏🤫 user9 i would say it's suga but army aren't ready for it🫣🤭

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by agustd, y/bff/user and 403,340 others

y/n.y/l/n I do more than race fast cars🫣🤭

y/bff/user best concert ever🤭 williamsracing we know and you look great doing it💙💙 user10 tell me what phone? those pictures are crystal clear🥲 user11 the concert fits ate😫😫 user12 so jealous. she got 2 nights😭 user13 those love sick eyes, he's killing me😤😤 user14 came for yoongles, staying for the hottie that drives fast cars🥵🤤 user15 when did she have the time to join the rat race that is bts tickets😪😮

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by agustd, urarmyhope and 782,093 others

y/n.y/l/n a summer well spent. Off to the Grove✈️

user16 this man looks like yoongi and he's in the likes🤔 user17 we don't know shit and she's already getting so much hate😔 user18 my pretty baby. i'm sorry ☹️ user19 ik yoongi and that's him😖 user20 my feminist man!!😚😚 user21 obviously he likes her; so his type😍 user22 i don't even like her🤢🤮 user23 that's not yoongi oppa🤮🤮 user24 i hate that attention seeking whore🥱🥱

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by agustd, bts.bighitofficial, williamsracing and 1,290,280 others

y/n.y/l/n Yoongi marry me?💍

agustd you are so embarrassing🤦 y/n.y/l/n agustd but you loooovvvveee me???😘😘 agustd y/n.y/l/n sadly😂Liked by Author thv yoongi marry me j.m yoongi marry me rkive yoongi marry me uarmyhope 형, 우리는 어때? 🤣🤣what about us hyung? alex_albon very respectful. I approve👍 y/n.y/l/n alex_albon i don't need your approval😤 alex_albon y/n.y/l/n yes you do🤪 user25 bts and their inside jokes😂🤣 user26 can't believe he's dating that loser who can't even race🙃 user27 so cute that the boys love them😍🥰 user28 that's all the confirmation i need😭😭 user29 Jungkook spoke about them on live and she spoils them. 😭😭 user30 Yoongi got someone to take care of and vice versa😪😔 user31 to everyone hating on her, suck it. She has a hot man and drives in formula one while yall are losers😂😂 user32 they'll break up in no time bc she doesn't deserve him🙂

2025

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by mercedesamgf1, agustd and 2,930,203 others

y/n.y/l/n new home for the forseeable future and what a way to start the season with a podium

agustd so proud of you Liked by Author y/n.y/l/n agustd thank you my hot military boyfriend😘🥵 mercedesamgf1 happy to have you forever Liked by Author user33 we love a supportive boyfriend😍 user34 2 years since we know and still going strong🥰🥰 user35 we love to see a woman win😌 user36 and to many more podiums this year🥹 user37 she's so hot for this😳🥵 user38 we get to hear from him through her posts only please post more often🫢 user39 congratulations sweetheart!!😪😪 user40 can't wait to have yoongi back on the paddock this year😏😏 carmernmundt tbh even i was rooting for you😚 georgerussel63 carmenmundt hey😡 y/n.y/l/n carmenmundt only for you honey😘😘 Liked by carmenmundt

[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.

[jjsloverre]

bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader going on their first date

bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader

in which… bsf!jj finally gets the courage to ask out sweetheart!reader and make all her dreams come true

includes… cursing, basically pure fluff

__________________________________________________________

you were sitting alone saturday night, just randomly putting your lashes and lip gloss on.

you and jj haven’t hung out in days, which wasn’t normal. he was always with you, vice versa. you were starting to get worried that you and jj were drifting apart after all these years, and you didn’t know if you’d be able to recover from that pain.

until, he texted you.

__________________________________________________________

you quickly hopped up and got ready. this was your first date. once you got ready, you waited outside for jj to show up. once he did, he quickly got out the car to pick you up and kiss you. “fuck.. you look amazing. i could fuckin devour you.”

“what do you have planned for our date?”

“it’s not much, i don’t get paid for another week, so i decided on something way more special than a fancy kook restaurant.” he explained.

“and that is?”

“picnic date on the beach.”

“don’t need to tell me twice! let’s go!”

as you drove to the beach, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift to all your happy moments and memories with jj. the one day he taught you how to drive, your parents didn’t want to teach you since they got so frustrated; but with jj, he was extremely patient.

or the time he taught you how to surf, after you begged him for weeks. he also taught you how to roll, even if you barley smoked. half of your life, you were with jj, and now… you were on a date with him.

“as crazy as it sounds, i got your mom to teach me how to make that gumbo you like.” your eyes widened. your mom hating jj was an understatement. it shocked you that your mom even gave him the time of day. “wait seriously?! how did you manage to talk her into it?”

“i have that charm, sweetheart.” he laughed as he sat you down, and handed you a bowl of gumbo. “holy shit jj this is amazing!” you exclaimed. “thanks mama.”

while you sat in jj’s lap and ate, you both were staring into the sunset until he randomly spoke. “remember when i used to sneak to your place and we sat on your roof to watch movies?” of course you remembered, it was one of your favorite things to do with him. “duh i remember, we should do that again.”

“anything you want.”

“why’d you wait so late to ask me?”

“i was procrastinating.” he said.

“you didn’t procrastinate when you were fucking me a week ago.”

“i was scared you’d say no.”

“when have i ever said no to you jj?”

he paused. “never.. but i dunno i always thought you had feelings for someone else.” you smile and hold him. “jj i’ve always had feelings for you!” you exclaimed. “and i’m so happy to be on this date right now, i wouldn’t want anything else.”

“i love you.”

“i love you more mama.”

“jj?”

“yes ma’am?”

you put your food down, and turn to straddle him. “i just love you a lot.” jj cuddles you in his arms and mumbles in your hair. “i love you more princess, our second date will be even better, promise.”

“i already love this date.”

“come home with me? my dad isn’t home and i deep cleaned my room for us to binge watch.”

“i’m so down!”

jj picked you up and drove you to his house. as you went inside, he guided you to his newly clean bedroom. he plated some food, snacks, beers if you wanted, drinks and some joints. he cuddled you while you both watched the new sza and keke palmer movie.

“i’m staying the night right?” you asked curiously.

“of course.”

“one day, will you let me paint your nails?” he laughed at your at your question. “yes, i will let you paint my nails any color you would like.” you smile up and him and shower his face with kisses. “good answer baby.”

“and now, i can properly make love to you on my new bed, but not yet, i gotta make you my girlfriend before i fuck you again.”

“jj you can’t last a day without sex.”

“i’ve been waiting until i asked you out actually.”

“really?”

“yeah. i have, just wanted you to feel special, not like a one night stand like we were talking about that one day.”

“you remembered that talk?” silly question, he thought. jj remembers almost everything you say, or do. “of course i do. it was important to you so i listened.”

“you are the sweetest. i love you jj.”

“i love you more mama, forever and always.”

with that, you drifted to sleep in jj’s arms. he gently moved all the snacks and stuff off of the bed for you to get more comfortable. while you were sleep, he sat on the thought of you. he finally got the girl, he finally asked you out. and soon enough, he’d finally ask you to be his girlfriend.

“love you bunches sweet girl.” he said one last time as he placed a kiss on your forehead, then went to sleep.

__________________________________________________________

taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @sophand4n4 @aaliyahsturniolo @ethanthequeefqueen @masongetinmybed @superlegend216

more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here!

a/n- just a little bit of foreshadowing ☺️

[ereardon]

In Six Years: Chapter 1

[Bob Floyd x Reader; Jake Seresin x Reader]

Summary: Six years ago, you watched your husband Bob Floyd leave for a mission he would never return from. After a failed mission left Bob as missing in action and pronounced dead, you struggled to move on. So how are you supposed to react when you get the call that after all this time, Bob is alive and on a flight home to California to meet you? And how are you possibly going to tell him that you had started to move on – with his best friend and former teammate Jake Seresin? 

Pairing: Bob Floyd x F!Reader; Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Warnings: References to war, death

A/N: This is inspired by Homeland, but with a twist!

Word count: 2.2K

Your knees shook as you stepped out of the car, onto the hot pavement. 

California was too hot. You and Bob had always agreed on that. But when his assignment came — San Diego — the two of you picked up from Newport and left the East Coast behind. It wasn’t easy, but it didn’t matter because you had each other. All you had ever needed was Bob. 

And then he was gone. 

Jake offered to drive, but you said no. Your fingertips clung to the steering wheel, hot, like they were pasted on. 

Inside the building, air conditioning cooled the sweat that had formed on your upper lip, back of your legs, inside your dress along your spine. 

What did someone wear to see the man they had believed was dead for the better part of a decade? 

You settled on a blue dress, one that Bob had always loved. If you closed your eyes tightly, you could remember his fingers tugging down the zipper on the back after a heated exchange that led to sex in the hallway, right there on the carpeted floor. 

That was a long time ago. That was a lifetime ago, quite literally. The lifetime that Bob had lived. The lifetime you had lived with Bob. 

The one where you made plans: get married, buy a house, have kids. 

Only the first two came true. 

He was gone for the big things. Your thirtieth birthday. Your promotion to vice president at the firm. The first gray hair that popped up on your right side, and the first time your knees cracked when you stood up from the yoga mat. He was gone for a long time the first time you let Jake into the house as anyone other than a friend, a teammate of your husband’s. 

He was gone for five years the first time you let Jake kiss you. 

You were a ghost, wandering the hallways of the Navy building, searching for another ghost. A man you had long believed to be dead. A man you had loved and treasured and mourned. A man whose headshot still stood on your side of the bed. A man whose ring still sat on your finger. 

“Mrs. Floyd?” A voice shook you from your thoughts. 

You looked up. He was handsome. Older, a gentleman well in his sixties. His uniform was tightly pressed. You wondered if his wife did it for him; his ring finger was adorned with a dull gold band that showed its age in use. Bob had worn a similar one. 

He wore a similar one. 

Or at least, you assumed he did. Maybe they took it. Maybe he had to use it for something, to barter, to patch something metallic. You didn’t know what had happened in the last six years. You had gone from knowing everything about him, what he ate for breakfast and what type of underwear he bought and if he needed a cup of coffee simply by the way he walked, to assuming he was dead, to realizing that you were about to welcome home a stranger.

“I’m Mrs. Floyd.” It was a croak. How long had it been since you had said that? Some people asked if you wanted to go back to your maiden name, after a few years had passed, after they closed his case. But you never did. That name was the last thing tying you to him. 

“Captain Floyd’s plane has just landed. I can take you into the waiting area now.” 

The two of you walked in silence through the narrow, sterile hallway. He opened a plain door to reveal what looked like an airport gate: a few rows of blue fabric chairs that sat back-to-back, and a wall of windows overlooking the tarmac. There was a jet bridge that connected to an internal door, and a short ramp that ascended into the main area. 

You were the only two people in the room. 

He nodded, and walked toward the door. “I’ll give you your privacy.” 

A part of you wished he would stay. Someone else to grip to. Reality. You sat down, then stood back up. But then your breakfast threatened to reverse up your esophagus and you sat back down, cradling your head into your hands. 

There was a buzzing in your ears, so loud it was a symphony. Blood pooled in the inner channels and pulsed and danced and you closed your eyes, letting it drown you and surround you. 

And then it stopped. His voice broke through the music your body created out of fear. 

“Sweetheart.” 

You looked up. Six feet away, Bob stood wearing service dress whites, his hat held softly in his hands. He had aged, far more than six years. There were wrinkles tugging at the corners of his eyes, and his soft brown hair was cut short, a whisper of gray peering through some of the strands. Most of all, you could see it in his eyes. How the time had taken its toll on him. Time, and everything else. Things you couldn’t even begin to fathom.

It was just the two of you, in the empty room. So large and unfamiliar. Something uncomfortable clung to the air as you and Bob stepped closer, closing the gap. 

It was no longer familiar. 

There were all of the things you’d have to relearn about each other. What he smelled like fresh out of the shower, and which shoe he tied first, and where you left your keys to the car, and what type of take out order you preferred after a long work day. Small things that had once felt like a habit. 

Up close, he was unfamiliar. From afar, he was Bob. Your Bob. But up close, this man, he was a stranger. 

He placed his hat down on the empty chair to your left, and then straightened. You lifted one hand to his cheek, and he closed his eyes, a tear rolling down gently. When he opened his eyes, those enormous blue eyes, you felt it. The familiar fission of memories threading themselves together. Learning, melding, growing. He was becoming yours again. 

“Bobby,” you whispered. 

“It’s me,” he murmured, his thick voice as gravely and familiar as ever. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I am so, so sorry.”

“Oh, my God,” you gasped. He was real. His touch was real. And without hesitation, you leaned in, felt his arms wrap around you. He was thin, much thinner than before. He had lost muscle mass. 

It felt strange, and also like coming home. The only person who hugged you now was Jake, and he fit in a way that Bob didn’t. He was shorter, wider, different. 

Bob sagged in your arms. 

For the longest time, you had thought home was where you put your purse down, or the living room couch you begged Bob to buy even though it was too expensive. You had thought it was a place. 

Bob knew that home was you.

***

The drive was quiet, punctured by the occasional question. Bob was a quiet man. He had always been quiet. But now, the quiet was almost all consuming. It threatened to swallow the car, and the two of you, whole. 

“The house looks the same,” Bob said as you parked the car. He paused. “Did you learn how to mow?”

“Um, no,” you said quietly. “Someone does it for me.” 

Bob frowned. “Waste of money. I’ll do it.” 

Inside, you watched as he slipped off his shoes at the front door. How long had it taken you to put away his shoes from the shoe rack after he went missing? To clear out his side of the closet, his half of the bathroom sink? To act like he was actually gone, instead of just on base. 

You watched as Bob floated from room to room. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. How he felt. Did it feel the same? Or was it like returning to your childhood home after you’ve flown the nest? 

“Bobby, I—”

“Come here,” he said at the same time. The two of you sunk into the white linen couch. It felt uncomfortable and awkward. There were new lines around his eyes, a grit to his fingertips, the smell of a different shampoo than you were used to. The couch sagged in ways that you were unfamiliar with. 

“I bought Cheerios,” you said. 

Bob smiled. “Wow, Cheerios. I haven’t thought about those in a long time.” 

You stood up, pacing toward the kitchen. “And milk. And the good salami from the butcher over on Bunker Street, and the jumbo organic blueberries even though you always said they were too expensive. But we can afford them now, so…”

Bob swiveled on the couch. “We can?”

You smiled. “I got a promotion, Bobby. Two years ago. VP.” 

He practically leapt from the couch. “Baby, what? That’s amazing!” 

“No more bargain hunting for cheap toilet paper.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” 

“I’m proud of you.” It slipped out. Bob’s face drained white. 

He took a step back, out of the kitchen. “I, uh, I’m going to take a shower I think.”

You nodded. “I bought you new stuff, it’s all in there.” 

“Thanks.” 

The moment he left, you could breathe again. There was something heavy, uncomfortable in the air between the two of you. The easy familiarity of marriage, of knowing someone so well they were an extension of yourself, was gone. 

And in its place, was a stranger. 

Bob was in there a long time. You didn’t want to know how long he had gone without a shower, or basic necessities like that. You had long ago vowed not to get caught up in all of the things that he was suffering with. It was too heartbreaking. 

After an hour, you were worried. You inched open the bathroom door. “Bobby?”

It was met by silence. With a deep breath, you pushed open the door.

Bob sat on the ground in a pair of tight white briefs, his back against the cabinet. The shower wasn’t even running. The room was free of any mist or humidity. 

He looked up. “It’s like I’ve forgotten what to do,” he whispered. 

Without hesitation, you crossed the room, leaning in to turn on the shower. Bob’s eyes watched you intently as you stepped back, one hand dragging the zipper of your dress down to your waist. With a hitched breath, you slid the blue dress down, exposing your breasts, and then the lacy fabric of your panties as the dress fell to the ground. His eyes widened as you traced a fingertip along the waist of the panties, dragging them down and flicking them off gently. 

“Come here.” You held out a hand and he took it, standing up. You reached out, fingers skimming his waist as Bob’s breath caught, and you tugged his briefs down, watching him spring free. 

How many times, since he was gone, had you thought about Bob naked? The gentle way he would lay you down against the mattress, the feel of his cock inside of you, his breath in your ear as he begged you to cum for him.

And now here he was, standing in front of you, naked. But he wasn’t hard. You didn’t expect him to be. Not after everything. 

It wasn’t why you undressed him. Instead, you pulled open the shower door, guiding him in, and then following. You positioned Bob into the stream of warm, not hot, water. Rubbed your hands together with shampoo, running your fingers gently through his locks as he closed his eyes. You sucked in a gasp as he turned and you slid a bar of soap over the expanse of his back, thick raised scars where he had been beaten. Gone was his smooth, freckled back. Instead, it was a 3D painting: flesh raised and then diving into long crevices. It took everything you had to pretend they didn’t exist. To simply wash your husband, let the water fall over his head as his eyes closed, let your hands hold him and steady him and care for him in all the ways you had dreamed of doing for six long years. 

After, you helped Bob dry off. He stood at the edge of the bed the two of you had shared. It was a queen. Two months before he left, you had said how much you wanted a king bed. To have some space from him in the night when he snored or tossed his arm onto your side. But mattresses were expensive. And then he deployed and was missing. And suddenly the queen was too big. You spent more nights than you could count sleeping on the couch in the living room. Because at least then, you didn’t have to contend with Bob’s side of the bed. The emptiness. 

“Come here,” you whispered, peeling back the comforter, sliding in between the layers. Hesitantly, Bob mimicked your movements. He laid straight as a pin on his side of the bed, barely moving. You leaned over, pressing one hand to his head, stroking his hair. 

“Can I ask you a question?” he whispered. 

“Of course.”

“Whose electric razor is that in the bathroom?”

Your heart stopped. 

Tag list:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @zablife @callsign-magnolia @shanimallina87 @hunterthecharmer @katiedid-3 @teacupsandtopgun @kmc1989 @phoenix-rising-starbird-one @dizzybee03 @double-j @desert-fern @djs8891 @th3-oncoming-storm @sio-ina-bottle @na-ta-sh-aa

[ik33ponmakingc00ki3s]

My Guilty Pleasure༄🍂࿔:･

Singer! Kazuha x Fem! Reader

You are so in love with his voice that you listened to other bands that are similar to his

Genre: Fluff/Smut/Slowburn

Warning: NSFW

(A/n): Ik I'm not the only one who thinks about this, saw a tiktok post about GI chars having similar voices to artists a year or 2 ago, and now I can't unhear it </3 I'm gonna sob

--------------------------------------------- ════════════════════════

⁺ . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹୨୧︶︶⊹

"You know, there's this other band that has the same voice as you and vice versa." You blurted out towards your crush, a bold movement coming from you.

Kazuha raised a brow towards you, familiar with the topic he went through with multiple people as the both of you walked out of school, 

"Let me guess, is it CAS?" 

"I-" Your head snapped towards him as he laughed

"Yeah I get that a lot, But I really don't hear it. We may sound alike but we're different in a unique way" He cut you off, the two of you walking together side by side as the clouds were starting to form heavily.

"Yeah but-- There's no denying it right? you guys sound like twins, no offence to to you and Greg tho" You pestered him a bit more, looking at him pleadingly as he chuckled while adjusting his bag's straps. "Want me to drop you off your spot? It's gonna rain soon, and don't worry I don't mind" He offered.

"Oh sure! Thanks tho" You smiled at his kind gesture, screaming inside as you get to have a ride with someone who's good-looking, well known and admired. "We can listen to your playlist on the way if you want to" He chuckled as you brightened, both of you heading towards his car as he took the keys out his pocket to unlock it.

----------------------  

The two of you were listening to CAS albums with your phone connected to the speaker, the weather was gloomy, rain pouring in, along with the fog covering the streets and parking lot while you were debating and ranking on each song as Kazuha wondered on how can you hear his voice in there but he can't?

"Ok what about this one, Sunsetz and John Wayne are definitely S tier, close enough to your voice." You bantered, scrolling through your phone to find more songs. "I still can't hear it (Y/n), try harder" he laughed with a smile on his face, panicking by the minute because instead of dropping you home, the two of you ended up buying food and ate inside his car that was parked outside the mall. 

Pulling out his phone to text his circle of "blood brothers".

-------------Tiddy_Lookers123-----------

6 online

•Xiaolong_bao: Bedo said he can make the album cover and give it around next week

•Eye of rabortion: Aight bet

•Gyatzuha: Guys, do I fr sound like Greg Gonzales? be honest.

•Heist_zoo: Greg Gonzales? CAS' main vocalist?

•Gyatzuha: Yes

•Backshotbatos: Tbh, yeah you do, your voice is just a taaaaad bit higher/lower tho

•Gyatzuha: Is that good or bad?

•Eye of rabortion: Why do u ask? is (Y/n) with you?

•Backshotbatos: OH! Didn't know ur the type to be so concerned Scara

•Eye of rabortion: She ranted to me about that like, 2 weeks ago non-stop fuck are you awn

•Gyatzuha: Yes she's with me in my car rn- what'd she say to you?

•Xiaolong_bao: "I'm having trouble differentiating Kazuha's voice with Greg, like He's the one singing it to me, is that weird?"

•Eye of rabortion: Yeah that, Can't she just spam listen to our album instead? You and Venti are legit our vocalists, we need the views and money

•Heist_zoo: She just wanna hear Kazuha and Kazuha only LMFAOOO

•Twinkerbell: She wants you so bad bro, we know you feel the same towards her

•Gyatzuha: Do I? I don't want to rush anything, and I'm sure she's neutral with me

•Eye of rabortion: You lit made 3 songs about her, raw and unpublished. While she's out there listening to people who sounds like you #GetTfUp #JustFckAlr

'Heist_zoo, Backshotbatos, & Twinkerbell reacted 😂'

•Gyatzuha: Wow

•Backshotbatos: Look she's trying to build a connection by "fantasizing" you, her doing that means you left an emotional impression on her to make her think that way about you trust #StayWithMeNow #GetDelusional

'Eye of rabortion reacted 💀' , 'Heist_zoo reacted 👀'

•Gyatzuha: ...I don't know if I should be flustered or shocked

•Xiaolong_bao: Both ngl  

•Twinkerbell: Dude, are you guys gonna do the deed? Y'all are listening to CAS in your car 

•Heist_zoo: Fuck I'm betting that they're gonna do it

•Gyatzuha: NO WE'RE NOT

•Backshotbatos: BETTTTT Kazuha c'mon please YALL WANT EACH OTHER SO BAD PLEASE #TakeThatCookie

•Twinkerbell: Real, we're here for support if things didn't go that way tho 

•Gyatzuha: GUYS--NO WE'RE NOT GONNA DO THAT OMFG

•Eye of rabortion: Right, I put condoms in your compartment box, You're welcome

'Gyatzuha reacted 😦, Twinkerbell reacted 🙊' 

•Gyatzuha: WHAT

•Backshotbatos: #SafetyFirst 

•Xiaolong_bao: Good luck  

•Heist_zoo: I'm so proud of him I'm gonna cry

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

Kazuha looked up from his phone in a panic as you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone and faced him.

"Okay what about Opera House?, wanna listen to it?" You beamed at him as he nodded. Praying, hoping that you won't think of opening his compartment box infront of you if you needed some necessities.

"Oh by the way do you have any tissues? Windows are fogging up..." You said as you were cleaning up the food wrappers and soda cups while looking for tissues.

His heart jumped and in a flash he turned on the AC, the small light indicating that it was triggered as you feel the cool air hit your skin. Kazuha helping you clean and organize in the process.

"Oh! Thanks!" you said as he cleared his throat, Opera House playing in his speakers as you continued to admire how Greg's vocals matched up to his voice.

Kazuha was feeling nervous as he thought about what his friends texted, the info he had when you couldn't stop talking about him and the main vocalist almost having the "same" voice over and over.

The atmosphere used to be exciting yet neutral but now his heart won't stop beating, not sure if it's because Scara had the gal to put a pack of condoms in his car, or it's because you're here with him in his car that might lead up to what Aether said--

"You know, this song's one of my favorites.." you sighed, looking at the window watching droplets sliding down and connecting to each other, his head turning to your direction. Looking like you're remembering something nostalgic but kept up the happy go lucky façade.

"No matter how deeply in love and devoted you are to that one person, even if you'd go through extreme lengths knowing there's gonna be times where you get so hurt by them too--you just keep going because it makes life worthwhile--" You were giving a brief summary of the song and the more you continued, the more your tone was off, he can feel it in his bones every time you feel down or sad about something.

"....What's wrong? Did something happen?" He hesitantly blurted out, panic thrown out the window as concern flooded in. He didn't want to be up on your business unless you asked help from him. But with that tone? He had the urge to help you just because you were sad.

There was a pause for a few seconds, and before he could open his mouth, you spoke.

"Kazuha...is it bad, that I also like to hangout with you because of your voice?" You cautioned, voice soft and guilty as he sat there, not knowing what to say.

"Well...I-"

"Ok, I'm sorry I didn't mean it that way, what I meant is that--your voice is just so soothing that I can't stop listening to it...that's why I enjoy hanging out with you most of the time and listen to your band's album along with CAS--To hear more of you..it just brings me some type of comfort" You sighed, feeling bad for him because you didn't want to use him like that.

"You're a really great and kind person Kazu...I just wanted to let that out..." 

He was processing what you said, Do you really like him? the comfort he gives you with his voice? or just the idea of him you fantasized about? he was trying to understand if what you're implying was a good thing or not. So he's going to ask you personally just to make sure.

"(Y/n)...Do you like me? or just the image of me you built in your head?"

He wasn't mad, just curious as his eyes watched you shift in your seat, looking at him with a surprised look, "What? Of course I like you, but fantasizing you? Uhhh kinda? in a way?" You confessed, there's nothing wrong with doing a bit of fantasizing or projecting your feelings on someone who sounds like him.

"Ok, so what if one day, I suddenly don't have a voice, would you still hangout with me?" He asked, eyes eager as he stared at you. Acknowledging your confession but wanting to talk about your view of him first.

"Of course I will! you're still Kazuha with or without a voice"

"But you said that my voice brings you comfort that's why you listen to our band and CAS right?"

"...Yeah, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't stop hanging out with you, your company alone is more than enough, your voice is like a bonus to your whole character" you said as you look at him with warm cheeks.

What you said flattered him, you were the first person to ever get like this with him and appreciate him like no tomorrow, even without his voice, you'd still stay by his side. Thinking about this made his face red as he calmed himself down, "That's...very appreciative of you" He couldn't find the right words at the moment as the digital clock was striking close to 5 pm.

You half-heartedly sighed and chuckled, breaking the small silence "Well if it makes you feel better, I am attracted to your whole being. Ever since I heard one of your songs, your voice just got to me first.. that's why I'm so hell-bent on listening to it along with CAS...You could say I sound obsessed with you the more I listen, but knowing you personally as the days go by, I developed feelings the more I spend time with you.." You explained to him. No traces of doubt or lies present in your voice. He was going crazy at how much he doubted and hoped if you had feelings for him weeks ago, and now that the line's been straightened, it's been proven in front of him coming from you, It's real. 

Looking at you shyly as he pressed his lips in a thin line, understanding your part as he looked at the front, the sky was getting dark, rain still pouring, as there were less people walking by, going to their desired locations. 

"So...does that mean we're official?" He questioned again, he wants to make sure that your feelings for him are real as the both of you were looking at each other with hope and love.

"..Well, if you feel the same towards me like how I do to you, then yes" You assured him, heart fluttering because you're enjoying the time of your life with him in his car, in the most sweet and casual way.

So he laughed softly.

The good-looking boy with a voice of an angel laughed at you in relief, The music and his laugh almost synced in together that you could hear heaven.

"Thank God (Y/n)-- I love you too I'm flattered, really. To know that we share the same feelings with each other, I'm honestly scared of being used that's why I pestered you a lot... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to doubt you" The white haired boy confessed, looking at you with sorry eyes as you looked at him softly.

The feelings you have for him are strong. He understands you no matter how weird you get with what or who you think and fascinate about. He admired you like you were the strangest, most interesting thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"Oh Kazu... Please don't be sorry, it's understandable to be cautious. I'm sorry I made you feel that way..." leaning towards him to give him comfort and holding his hand in the process made him swallow the lump in his throat, heart lurching out his chest.

With the rollercoaster ride of emotions he felt an hour ago, he's now eager--too eager to get with you. Both of you confessing to each other, pouring out all your feelings and secrets, being transparent in each other's presence. 

His breath in a hitch, eyes lingered on your frame, a dark shade of red with a hint of orange that's full of...affection--full of want and need. 

"Kazuha? You okay?" You whispered, your eyes full of concern, your perfume hitting him hard as he felt blood rush to his cheeks and body at how close you are, warm and inviting as thoughts were racing, clearing his throat.

"Y-yeah, yes I am...thanks" he breathed out, eyes looking anywhere else but you.

"Did I say too much?"

His head snapped back to yours, you weren't smug, just concerned. But he felt hot despite the AC running for a good while, "No...not at all, you're just..''

Fuck was he entranced towards you, His body was not well rested, one elbow rested on top of the armrest as the other was loosely draped at the steering wheel.

You smiled at him, closely leaning to his face as your heart started beating fast and he did the same, eyeing your lips before looking back at your eyes. Tension creeping up fast as he closed the gap, mushing your lips against his gently. 

And Oh--Ohh the soft and electric feeling you have traveled all over your bodies, his hand left the steering wheel to touch you, to caress your back, lightly massaging and squeezing the sides as it traveled up and down. Your right hand lightly squeezing his cheek as your body weight shifted towards him, both of your arms now wrapping around his neck.

You felt him deepen the kiss as he slowly pushed the weight you held against him to give a balance. Mouths opening wide as the kiss went wild and rough, gasping and letting out moans coming from your mouth made him feral. If only the central armrest isn't in the way, he slowly pulled out, face red and breathing increased along with yours.

"Get in the back love"

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

You moaned and continued the heated process as you laid yourself in the backseat, only left with your bottoms and bra intact as he discarded his shirt. Heavily making out and muffling out moans, as you grabbed Kazuha like he's gonna disappear at any moment, clawing and grinding against him.

"Kazuha please.." you begged him, begged him to rail you, face written with no ounce of shame as his hands traveled down your pants, unbuttoning it and removing it with the underwear included.

Now you're mostly naked in front of him, looking at you like some goddess that came to visit him, and only him that he felt special. He held your hips, groping each side moderately then going in between your inner thighs as he leaned his head on your chest, trailing kisses till he reached down your stomach.

He likes to take his time with you and wants you to have your first experience with him to be unforgettable. Moving his hand and circling his fingers against your clit, close to your hole as you whimpered, hips bucking. Holy you're wet down there.

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

His ring and middle finger both went inside as you moaned, God you sound so angelic, he went up to kiss your ear and neck as his hot breath made you melt. His fingers were giving different motions--circular, scissors, and pump.

Your body jolted against him, his pace picked up as your bodies were linking to each other, hot and grinding. The windows foggy, car bouncing lightly, soft light coming from the touch screen audio, as music continued to play from your list.

You were close to reaching out your orgasm as Kazuha slowly sat up straight, gently pulling out his fingers as milky-white slick coated his fingers, dripping down the seat as he stared at it. The scent was pulling him closer, pulling him to taste you as he felt his mouth water, so then and there-- he raised his hand closer to his face, opening his mouth as his tongue licked a strip. 

Your taste drove him wild as the licks turned to him shoving his fingers down his throat, sucking all your slick as he moaned. You looked at him embarrassingly and in shocked as he finished having a taste of you. "Kazuha..." You breathed out, your stomach tightening as you feel yourself drip more of your essence. 

He looked at you with love and lust before slowly getting up from his spot, reaching out to the passenger side as he opened his compartment box to indeed see a pack of condoms bought by Scara. Taking it and sitting back down, your face was red, thinking that he was prepared for situations like these.

"My...friends, bought this for me because they know we want each other this bad..." He confessed to you, both of your faces were red. You wanted to let out a small laugh because of how supportive they are towards him.

"I... It's okay Kazu, better to be safe you know?" You giggled, you thought that he was ready for such mature activities--but his friends had to do him a favor instead.

"Do you want to continue my love?" He asked you, God his voice made you squirm as you nodded. He leaned on top of you, placing his lips against yours lovingly and hungry, your hands pulled his hair back leaving marks as he groaned, his other hand shifting down to his pants, pulling them down impatiently as he rubbed his shaft up and down.

You breathed out as you felt him rip off the condom package, placing the thin rubber on his tip and carefully pull it down, he then looked at you for confirmation as you nodded. Placing your hands on his shoulders as he lifted you by the hips, aligning his dick on your entrance as he slowly out it in.

You both moaned, your legs wrapped around him, locking him I'm place as he started thrusting, hitting. Every. Spot.

Cum starting to leak out and drop down the seat, soaking it in the process as the car moved sideways, violently. He was thrusting harder and faster as you were screaming his name, he let out a laugh as he kissed you to drown out your moans. Thank God his windows were tinted and there's not much people around.

"Kazuha... I'm.." you said between kisses and pants, feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated, he feels too good.

"Shhhh...I know Angel.." he mumbled, kissing your lips then forehead, giving you a headpat as he held you closer like you were made of glass, but pounded on you hard and fast.

"Ah...hhaahh~" you tried to keep your moans as quiet as possible, reaching your climax as Kazuha cummed with how hard you were squeezing him. You arched your back once more knowing it's going to ache later, reaching your orgasm as you squirted while he was ramming inside of you, the climax was so good that he went quiet mid-moaning, oh how good you felt milking him out like that.

You both panted as he placed a kiss on your neck before he removed himself from you, discarding the condom into the trash where you threw the food platter you guys ate at awhile ago. 

"...So...how was it?" He asked you, grabbing your hands to sit you up gently, and covering you with his jacket while you leaned on him.

"It was--really great...makes me want to go for another round" you joked as he laughed.

"We can do that when we're somewhere more secluded love.." he breathed out, cradling you as he looked at the time, not seeing his phone was booming with notifications.

-------------Tiddy_Lookers123-----------

5 online

•Eye of rabortion: sent an attachment 

•Backshotbatos: HOLY SHIT DID THEY REALLY DO IT

•Heist_zoo: THEY DID, THEY FUCKING DID

•Heist_zoo: @Kkaedehara GET YOUR ASS IN HEREEEEE

•Twinkerbell: YALL LEAVE THEM ALONEEEEE😭😭😭🙏 KAZUHA'S GON BE MAD ABT THIS

•Xiaolong_bao: I can't with y'all rn☠️ no fucking way you recorded it

•Eye of rabortion: it's not like I recorded them "doing it", it's just his car moving sideways, that's when you know🙏

•Backshotbatos: ON A PUBLIC SERVER TOO, MY BOY HAS NO SHAME😭😭🥀

•Heist_zoo: HE'S SO BRAVE FOR IT IM GONNA APPLAUD WHEN I SEE HIM

•Twinkerbell: OOOUUH TELL HIM TO CHANGE HIS PLATE NUMBER😭😭

•Xiaolong_bao: Y'all better not be leaking that video anywhere else🫩

•Eye of rabortion: Obvi we won't 🥀

•Backshotbatos: Y'ALL WE GOTTA GREET HIM WELL ON MONDAY FOR THE LOSS OF HIS V CARD

•Twinkerbell: NAH GET OUT😭

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(A/n): Ok so...I hope you enjoyed this fic but ogmyhgod, I just really HATE IT when Tumblr has these errors everytime I edit my drafts on my phone. Like when I went to check my drafts after 2 hours not knowing that it was posted so I rushed the end, fuck it's so embarrassing when shit like this happens. And yes I both edit on the PC and phone, I just use my notes app to double save. NEVERRRRR am I gonna type drafts in phone again ToT

[messenger-of-babel]

To Lose a Dream

Summary: Leon would make any amount of wishes to make his dreams come true, but the events of Racoon change your lives forever. (Leon S. Kennedy x reader)

Word Count: 3.3K

Notes: ✨ Second Leon done! ✨ I feel it's a little rough only cause my eyes are so tired. This was a chunky piece to write so please keep that in mind haha. Roughly a third through this challenge, I don't know what I'll do with myself not writing for you all every day haha, it's honestly been such a fun month. I feel like I haven't kept some of the past themes well/ I made them vague and mentioned them in like one line, but I hope this one is clearer! Back to some DC ones in the next few days. Enjoy~! xx

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You didn’t know what to expect, coming alongside Leon.

Worry ate at your bones, staring out the window of the car as you hurtle towards Raccoon City. The rain batters at the windows, tracing patterns on the glass as you try to make out any shapes in the darkness. A hand on your thigh snaps you out of your stressed sighing, catching sight of Leon. He's got his eyes still trained on the road, the rain hard and heavy.

"He's going to be fine. I promise."

Leon does his best to soothe you, but the vice grip around your heart still doesn’t let up. You put your hand over his, curling your fingers around his larger digits. "I don't know." you say, voice tinged with fear. He squeezes your hand back weakly, the little comfort that he can provide right now.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious. Your brother hasn't answered a few calls? maybe he's just busy." Leon tries to say, keeping his tone light-hearted. "Either way, I'm sure he will be happy to see you. How long has it been since you talked?"

"He didn't call to wish me a happy birthday." you murmur, head leaning against the window. "We talked just last week."

Leon shrugged. "Maybe he just got busy?" he tries to delicately put.

"He doesn’t just miss those calls. He always makes sure that he calls. Something just feels wrong, I know it." you whisper, fist clenching in your lap. "Not to mention your work called you and told you not to come in. All my friends in raccoon aren't picking up either. I can't manage to get onto the Raccoon City news channel. Doesn't that worry you at least a little?" you stress, voice rising.

He waves his hand gently, trying to get you to lower your voice. "I understand, I do. But let's go into the city before anything happens, okay? It'll only hurt you more running through ‘what if’ scenarios before we even get there. We just need to hold it together a little longer, okay?"

You sigh in defeat and turn away, making Leon bite his lip and focus on the road once more.

He hated fighting with you, hated seeing you upset. He couldn't help the way his heart sank when your turn away from him, and he can't stop the voice in his head telling him that it was his fault. Even if you told him otherwise, he ached seeing you so stressed. You had come to him crying that night worried that your brother hadn't called you like he did annually, more so when the phone wouldn’t even connect to his when you tried to return it. Seeing you so distressed he let you come with him to Racoon City, knowing he was heading in for his first scheduled day. He just wanted to alleviate your worry and anxiety, but now Leon was starting to feel like he had just made it worse by bringing you along. You kept talking about the feeling in your gut, the cold that seeped to freeze your heart over with fear.

He kept brushing it off, doing his best to assure you that everything was okay, but as he pulled up to the outskirts of Raccoon City, he knew he should have believed you.

He should have turned the car around when he saw the smoke, when he saw the fire flickering off the windows. Should have listened to you halfway down the highway the first time you said you felt anxious and taken you both home. Then you both would have been safe, anxious and worried, but safe, nonetheless. Instead, he drives forward, eyes widening in the carnage as you roll to a stop. Cars and buildings are on fire, debris and shattered glass scattered over the road.

"I think we should-" he tries to say around the lump in his throat, but the sound of a car door slamming breaks his thought. His eyes widen with fear, blood cooling as he sees you through the windscreen glass, running down the street.

He jumps into action like he's been shocked, running from the driver’s seat and unbuckling himself like he was branded. "Hey!" he calls out, voice stern but terrified. He pushes his legs to catch up with you, lungs burning when he finally does. "Do not run off on me, you understand?" he yells, spinning you around to face him. You turn, studying him. Panic is etched onto every line of his face, pupils shifting rapidly as he checks you over. "This isn't safe, we need to think. It's not safe for you."

"But it's safe for you?" you snap back, making him falter. "I'm not leaving till I find my brother. He might be trapped here, with no one to help. I have to know what's happening." tears burn at your lashes and your hands wipe them away. His heart shatters and he pulls you in for a tight hug, like the both of you aren't standing in the middle of a crater ridden road. "it's gonna be okay, I promise." he whispers into your hair.

He wished upon every star and every cell in his body that he could rewind time so that you never found your brother.

Very quickly the both of you realised that something awful had happened to the city, when the first resident came ambling after you and nearly took a chunk out of Leon's arm. Now both of you were sneaking into around your brother’s neighbourhood, armed with only some wooden planks you ripped from a boarded-up store.

You were adamant that you were going to find your brother, and you resisted every time that Leon tried to bring you back to the car and away from all of this. When you finally saw the figure of your older sibling, you thought you were about to collapse in relief. With a sigh and grateful tears springing to your eyes, you called his name, wood weapon dropping from your hands.

You couldn't hear Leon's screams for you to get back over the thudding of your feet on the broken-up road, eyes too blurred with tears to see the way that your brother walked with a limp. When you threw yourself on him you squeezed your eyes shut, about to sob in happiness. However, when you felt him turn to embrace you back, a blooming pain ran through your shoulder.

With a shriek your eyes fly open and you try to push him off, ears rushing with the sound of blood and Leon's shouting. You look into the face of your brother, his visage more flesh than skin. His skin was puckered and eyes a milky white, hair patchy and skin blood drained.

He was gone.

"Get off!" Leon hollers from behind you, swinging the plank directly into your brothers- no, the zombie's face, and sending it staggering backwards. He catches you as you stumble back, pulling your flush against his chest. Your hands fly up to try and staunch the sticky flow of blood, shock beginning to settle in.

"Hey, hey, look at me." he commands, eyes darting between you and the corpse struggling to get up from the ground. "We need to get going, can you do that for me?"

You look back, breath hitching as you see what remained of your brother. You remembered his smile, his hugs. The way he lifted you up when you were little and swung you around the room while you pretended to be a superhero. Now all that remained was a blood hungry pile of flesh and bone, filled with a dark malice.

"Sweetheart, you need to focus."

Leon's tense voice cuts through the fog in your mind, his hand coming to press down hard over yours on the wound. You manage a shaky breath and a brief nod of your head, an action that make you wince as your shoulder burns violently.

"Okay, okay, let's get you somewhere safe." he murmurs mostly to himself, an arm coming around you to keep you close to his side. His heartbeat races with worry, scanning his brain for anything. This wasn't his city; he hadn't even visited before tonight. You provided the directions up until now, but with the ragged way you were breathing, you weren't really in the position to help him. in the distance, his peripheral vision strikes a hit.

The sign of the RPD burns itself into his vision, and he quickly reroutes his steps to hurry there.

"Hold on, just a little longer." he says quietly down to you, anxiety peaking as he watches as you half stumble over your own feet.

He wished on the moon and the sky that he had never brought you to the Raccoon City Police Department.

Within, you had both found yourselves befriending an officer named Marvin, who was injured similarly to you. Leon had gotten chewed out pretty badly for showing up regardless of the call that told him not to, something Leon defended in the way you know only Leon could. You were resting on a spare stretcher next to Marvin, bite patched up weakly with some bandages that were already damp with red.

Despite the situation, you couldn't help the smile that flitted over your face when Leon came back into the room, dressed in the RPD uniform.

"Don't you look handsome." you say softly, making him chuckle. He comes to lean down by your side, giving you a quick peck on the lips. "I'm starting to think that you just like a guy in uniform." he teases, a light blush dusting the bridge of his nose.

"Could you blame me?" you tease back, and he shakes his head with a light scoff. He helps you sit up, and you swing your feet to touch the marble floor of the RPD lobby. You wished you could remember the sparkle in those bright blue eyes, before Marvin made him go to the office to fetch something. You followed after him softly, despite your boyfriend's insistence that you stay back to rest.

"It's not that far." you say softly, pointing in the direction. "Just that room, okay?"

He had looked to Marvin, but the older officer looked away and held his hands up, muttering something about not getting involved.

That's why you were here now, watching him forlornly as he gingerly traches his fingers along the wood that was going to be his desk. His back rounds as he leans on the desk, blonde hair flopping pathetically as he tries to hold himself together.

'W E L C O M E    L E O N ' hangs above the desk in yellow and blue, decorated just for him. You watch just behind him on the small stairs overlooking the area, letting him have the moment to himself. He sinks lower so he can sit in the chair, staring up at the decorations with his hands in his lap. You can imagine him here during the day, the hustle and bustle of the office around him. You imagine his coworkers flitting around him, giving him smiles and maybe even ruffling his hair. You can picture his wide smile, your favourite one, stretching across his face as the older officers give him shit for being a rookie.

The memory glows like a warm sun, a golden hope that flickered between the both of you. The ideals that he whispered to you when you went to bed, his tone soft and giddy even though he tried to control it. His hopes, dreams and plans for the future he told you with a soft smile, eyes hazy as he let himself daydream before drifting off to sleep next to you.

Your hands clench on the banister, heart aching. The first day he never got to have, but the first day that he had dreamed of ever since he graduated the police academy.

The first day that he deserved.

You watch your boyfriend take a deep breath, and the golden 'what if' that played around him like a movie faded away until it was just you two back in that cold, dark, room. You go to call out to him, but you voice wavers like there’s a block in it. You only make a half-gurgled sound, eyes rolling into your head as the world spins.

As soon as he hears you hit the ground behind him, he's up and out of his seat, panic flooding his senses for the second time. Leon half drags you back into the adjoining room, setting you back onto the stretcher. Marvin is by his side in an instant, fingers going to press against your neck.

You can hear them talking, but it's like there's an undercurrent of thought.

So hungry...

You groan at the intrusion in your mind, making Leon shush you and grip your hand. "Don't try to speak." he says softly, worry tinging his tone. Despite both of their hands you try to sit up, whole body burning. Your skin feels too hot, like a frog realising it's been trapped in the pot. Your breath feels short and tight in your chest, vision swimming as you try to make out the people in front of you.

"How are you feeling?" Marvin asks, and your eyes flit over to him. you shake your head.

"Bad." you croak out. "It feels bad. It feels really really bad." you cry, face splitting into a sob as your shoulder pulses painfully. "it's all hot everywhere, and it's hard to breathe, and it all hurts."

You hate these people...

You close your eyes to try and prevent the words that wriggle into your mind, twisting and warping like worms. You shake your head. "I don't feel good. Please." you splutter. "Please what do I do?"

Lean turns to Marvin, frantic in his words. "What do I have to do? How can we help?" he rushes out, grabbing the older man's arm. However, Marvin doesn't respond, face grim and taking a step back from you.

"She's turning fast." he murmurs lowly, regarding you with caution. You writhe, still seated on the stretcher, not even feeling the dull pain when your overheated body collides with the marble floor. Leon goes to help you up, but Marvin holds him back.

"You have what was in the box on your desk?" Marvin murmurs, making Leon's breath hitch.

"Yes." he breathes back, eyes wide and fearful. "You don't mean to-"

Marvin nods. "I'm sorry, son. Look at how fast she's changing. She'll hurt you. She isn't changing normally."

And you weren't.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, causing you to shriek and wail in between your hiccups and sobs as you rolled on the floor. It felt like there was fire consuming your entire body, scorching your nerves and arteries. You look up at Leon through hazy eyes, pushing onto your hands and knees. "Leon," you rasp. "Leon, help me. Please. Please, please help me." you sob. It feels hard to get air into your lungs from the hands of panic closing around your lungs. You manage to crawl, looking up at him through tears.

Leon himself has tears dripping down his nose and cheeks, eyes wide and skin pale. There’s a tremor in his body, his breathing short. he doesn’t look entirely there, but he takes a deep breath before looking at Marvin.

"No. No, I can't do this." he says, voice breaking. "Where's the cure? You bastard, tell me where the cure is!" he yells at Marvin, face scrunching in desperation. Marvin shakes his head, leaning on the wall to support his own weakened body.

"That is the cure, son." he tries to say softly, but it's hard with the young man raging in front of him.

"Cure?" you croak, making Leon look down at you. He makes a heart shattering sound as you look up at him, his lips wobbling. That's when you see the gun shaking in his other hand, half hidden behind his body, and you freeze. You begin trying to crawl away backwards.

"No, no." you murmur, voice weak and shaky. "Please, no."

Your skin is itching violently, like a million mosquitoes came to take the blood from you, leaving welts in their wake. "Please, Leon. I wanna live. Please no, I'm sorry." you voice breaks and tears stream down your cheeks.

You hate them, YOU HATE THEM....

You hold your head and wail as the thoughts get worse.

SO

       SO

                   SO

                                 SO

                                            HUNGRY.

"Please Leon, please." your murmur, rocking back and forth. "Leon, please, save me. spare me, please." you whimper, but you aren't sure if you even manage to pronounce the words properly. Your vision feels murky, and as you tip your head up you can hardly see out of your right eye. Your left eye takes in the blurry image of Leon, red faced and wiping frantically at his eyes.

"Leon, I love you." you call out weakly, a pitiful sound crawling from the depths of your throat that resonates in the quiet lobby.

Leon wished on whatever god and heaven above that after what he was about to do, they would let you through their doors.

Leon feels like he can't breathe. His heart is racing so hard he thinks he might have a heart attack, or the organ was going to speed right out of his chest. The only thing in his ears is the rushing of blood and the thumping of his heartbeat. His lips are stained with tears, eyes feeling like they're about to swell from the pressure from crying.

He wanted to believe you. He wanted to save you. He wanted to love you.

You still had days together, a future that needed to be made. But when he saw you as you looked up at him, the way one of your eyes was already a milky white and the way your skin seemed to pucker, he knew you were going. His heart tore at every scream and wail of desperation that left your lips as you writhed in pain, and he felt his soul tear every time you begged for him to listen, to not kill you. The way you begged for your life like he was some kind of executioner.

But he knew in the bottom of his heart, that you were gone. You were fading in front of him quicker than he could preserve the memory of your face, or the way your face split when you were smiling instead of screaming. He knew it in the bottom of his heart when you hit the floor rolling off the medical bed, not noticing the blood that trickled from your temple when you sat up. You were unaware of the way your lips spilled blood like a waterfall onto your chin and chest. You didn't say anything about the way your skin inflamed and warped, the veins in your arms filling with a sickly hue. Yet with your one good eye you pleaded with him, the only thing left of you the colour that he adored.

The colour he made his stationary so he could think of you even while he was at work. The colour that he went and bought a tie in so he could match you for events and Christmas parties. the colour that he had daydreamed you passing on to kids one day. He watched the colour fade from your left eye like he was watching a sunset, the beautiful hue slowly become murky while your mouth still wordlessly pleaded at him.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," he whispers, although he isn't even sure if you can hear him with the tremor in his voice. He raises the gun, gripping it the way that he was taught. "I love you too."

Then there was a bang, a soft thud, and the lobby was quiet once more.

September 30th, 1998.

That was the date that Leon lost the two most important dreams of his life.

[puzzledprose]

MORE RONIN CONTENT we all ask in unison (love the way you write him)

If I’m being completely honest this was just an excuse to use some annoyingly flowery language and have a try at an actual story, so please be nice I’m still new to this 😅

Tear open your chest and carve a home for me in your atrium

Ronin x Reader

When Ronin looks at you he sees something pure. Not holy or righteous; not something pious or saintly. No, what he saw was more like a canvas to be painted on; ripe fruit that has freshly fallen to the ground, set to be consumed by the rot of the earth. The worms and the flies and the mould eat away at it yet it does not care, the rot loves the sapped fruit as it loves the rot. A love that is all consuming and destructive.

When he added you to the server he knew you were no killer, it was all a wicked game of cat and mouse to him. Ronin was just a toddler playing with his food before he ate. His plan was to toy with you as long as it was fun and split your skull open once it wasn’t, but in getting to know you an unexpected feeling of affection began to fester in his stomach. Every witty comeback and reciprocated threat of murder only served to fuel the whirlwind of emotions burgeoning in his chest.

Yet his newfound fondness for you did not entirely curb his insatiable need for carnage, rather, it blossomed from it. Ronin wished to both cut and cherish you, to maim and shelter. Nothing could be more romantic than you offering your own flesh at his alter of putrid vice.

And to your own detriment, you did. Again and again you offered up your heart as an unholy sacrament to him. You accepted him for all the depraved things he was. Or at least all the depraved things he thought he was. Ronin was a killer, you know this, you’re not naive. And yet you saw past all evil he was and found what was beneath it.

The oil on your stove simmered slowly as you cooked a simple meal for you and your boyfriend. You found yourself zoning out and staring at the bubbling liquid.

Out of nowhere a firm sensation latched itself onto your hips and held you in place while a cold breeze of air slithered it’s way into your ear. You jumped at the feeling and turned around to see your culprit; the devil himself.

“What’s cooking darlin’?” He asked before giving you a soft kiss on the neck and settling his chin on your shoulder.

“Nothing too special, just some fried chicken.” You answered as your heart rate dropped and you turned your body around to face Ronin.

“Smells real fuckin’ good.” He replies as he moves his hands from you hips to your waist.

Ronin find his way into sitting on the counter as you two have your usual evening small talk about your day as you finish cooking. When you’re finished you plate up the food and hand it to him to have a taste. Needless to say he was more than happy with what you had made.

“Thats the stuff.” Ronin praised before he kissed you on the forehead and hopped down from the kitchen counter and sauntered into his living room. “I’m watching a movie if ya feel like joinin’ me?”

You let out a short sigh at the thought of letting Ronin choose a movie again before you called out “Only if I get to choose it, if you do I’ll end up puking out this lovely meal I spent so much time cooking.” You have an exaggerated pout and giggled to yourself as you made your way into the living room and plopped down on the couch next to your boyfriend.

The rest of that night was spoken through a language of short kisses, mumbled “I love you”s and cheesy rom-com dialogue <3

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Secrets We Keep

The roar of the private jet’s engines was nothing compared to the static in Marshall’s mind. He hated flying. His nerves were shot, and the only thing keeping him from completely losing it was knowing that he’d be home in a few hours. Home to you.

The last text you sent him was still open on his phone:

“Can’t wait to see you. Love you. Drive safe when you land.”

He’d smiled at that, thumbs hovering over the screen to send something equally sweet. But before he could type, the flight attendant told him it was time to put his phone on airplane mode. He figured he’d just tell you in person.

He should have said it then.

The wheels touched down smoothly, but something in Marshall’s gut felt off. He chalked it up to exhaustion—being in the air too long always made him antsy. But as soon as he stepped off the plane, he spotted Paul waiting near the tarmac. That wasn’t normal. Paul usually handled business over the phone unless it was urgent.

“What’s up?” Marshall asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Paul’s face was tight, his jaw clenched like he was holding something back. He exhaled sharply before speaking. “We gotta go. Now.”

Marshall frowned. “What? Why?”

Paul hesitated, looking anywhere but at him. “Just get in the car, Em.”

The unease that had been gnawing at him since the flight grew into something sharper. He didn’t move. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Paul sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He looked tired. Worn. And that scared Marshall more than anything. “It’s Y/N,” he finally said. “She was attacked.”

Marshall’s breath caught in his throat. “Attacked?” His voice was rough, strained. Don’t say it. Don’t you f*ing say it.**

Paul just shook his head. “Come on, man. We need to get to the hospital.”

The drive was a blur—flashes of streetlights against the windshield, the hum of tires against pavement, the racing thud of his heartbeat in his ears. He barely noticed Paul handling calls, organizing things, keeping everything moving while all Marshall could do was sit there, gripping his knees so hard his fingers ached.

When they pulled up to the hospital, he was out of the car before it even stopped. Paul had to jog to keep up, calling after him, but Marshall wasn’t listening. He was already pushing through the double doors, demanding to know where you were.

When he finally reached your room, his breath hitched. Machines beeped steadily around you, wires and IVs snaking from your still body. You looked so small in that bed, so delicate and quiet, the way you always were—his soft, sweet girl, never meant for violence like this.

His legs nearly gave out beneath him, but he forced himself forward, sinking into the chair beside you. His hand found yours—cold, too cold—and he squeezed it tight, like that alone could bring you back to him.

“Baby,” his voice cracked. “I’m here.”

Silence answered him.

Days trickled by, blurring together in a haze of hospital lighting and sleepless nights. Nurses came and went, offering soft words and hopeful smiles, but it all sounded empty to him. He barely registered the updates the doctors gave—concussions, bruised ribs, contusions lining your skin like cruel artwork. They said you were stable, but that wasn’t enough.

You still weren’t awake.

Marshall didn’t leave your side. He barely ate, barely slept. He sat there, staring at you, willing you to wake up. Paul handled everything else—the press, the legal matters, the police updates. He kept the outside world away so all Marshall had to do was sit vigil.

Then, the worst happened.

A sharp, prolonged beep cut through the air. The heart monitor flatlined.

Marshall’s head snapped up just as nurses and doctors burst into the room, pushing him aside as they worked frantically over you. His breath hitched, and for the first time since he’d arrived, a terrifying coldness wrapped around his chest like a vice. He was frozen, forced to watch as they worked to bring you back.

“Clear!” A shock jolted your body, and he flinched, his nails digging into his palms. No, no, no, this isn’t happening.

Another shock. Still nothing.

Paul grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him back as Marshall fought against him. “Do something! DO SOMETHING!” His voice cracked, raw and broken, but no one looked at him. They were too busy trying to keep you alive.

Seconds felt like hours.

Then, finally, a beep. Then another. The monitor stabilized, though weak, and the tension in the room shifted from panic to quiet relief. The doctor turned to Marshall, his face solemn. “She’s still with us,” he said, but his tone held a warning. “She’s fighting, but it’s critical. We’ll keep monitoring her.”

Two weeks passed in a haze. Then, one night, when Marshall was curled up in the chair, his head resting on the mattress beside your hand, a tiny movement made his heart stop.

Fingers twitching against his.

His head snapped up, breath caught in his throat as he watched your eyelids flutter. Then, after an agonizing pause, your eyes finally opened.

“Y/N?” His voice was hoarse, disbelief laced with desperate hope.

You blinked sluggishly, your gaze hazy as it moved to him. “M-Marsh?” Your voice was weak, but it was yours.

A choked sob left his throat as he grasped your hand, pressing it to his lips. “Baby, I’m right here.”

The relief was overwhelming, almost too much to bear. But as you slowly took in your surroundings, the fear in your eyes returned.

“He—he was here,” you whispered, panic threading through your voice. “He found me.”

Marshall tensed. “Who? Who did this?”

Your breath shuddered. “My ex,” you croaked. “He—he just got out of prison.”

Marshall’s blood ran cold. His grip on your hand tightened, his entire body going rigid as fury curled deep in his chest. Paul had mentioned the guy was caught, but Marshall hadn’t asked for details. He hadn’t wanted to hear them.

Now, he needed to.

Paul was already on it, stepping into the room with the cops who had been waiting. “You wanna hear the details now?” Paul asked quietly.

Marshall looked down at you, his free hand gently brushing your cheek, promising safety. His voice softened just for you. “You don’t have to talk about it right now, baby. You’re safe.”

You nodded weakly, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I just want this to go away,” you whispered. “Can we just—get a restraining order or something?”

Marshall swallowed hard, his heart aching at how soft and sweet you were, even after everything. You didn’t want vengeance, you just wanted peace. But he couldn’t let that happen.

He cupped your cheek gently. “Baby, I love you,” he said, his voice low, steady. “But we can’t just let this go. If we don’t press charges, he could come back. I can’t—” His voice broke, raw with emotion. “I can’t let that happen. I need to know you’re safe.”

You hesitated, searching his eyes. You trusted him. You always had. Finally, after a long moment, you gave a small nod.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Marshall exhaled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promise you, baby, he’s never coming near you again.”

Then, he turned to Paul and the cops, his expression dark and resolute. “Let’s make sure he never gets the chance.”

---

The hospital doors slid open, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Marshall stepped outside. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp pavement, but he barely registered it. His focus was entirely on you—delicate and pale in the wheelchair as the nurse carefully guided you forward. He wanted to take the handles himself, to be the one to get you out of this place, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Take it slow,” the nurse reminded gently. “Let your body adjust. No sudden movements.”

You nodded, exhaustion tugging at your features. Marshall hated seeing you like this—so small, so fragile. He hovered beside you as Paul helped get you settled in the car. The ride home was quiet, the weight of everything still pressing heavy on him. Every few seconds, he’d glance at you, reassuring himself that you were real, that you were still here.

When they pulled into the driveway, Marshall was out of the car before it even stopped. He circled to your side, carefully opening the door, his hands twitching at his sides. He wanted to scoop you up, hold you close, breathe you in—but he hesitated. All he could see was you in that hospital bed, hooked up to machines, barely clinging on. The image had burned itself into his mind, and now, standing here, he was terrified that if he touched you, you might break.

You looked up at him, your eyes soft but knowing. “Marsh?”

His throat tightened. “Yeah, baby?”

“I can walk.”

He swallowed, his jaw clenching. “I know.”

But he still hovered as you carefully stepped out, gripping the car door for balance. Paul shot him a look, one that said *let her breathe*, but Marshall couldn’t. He stayed close, hands out just in case. You gave him a tired smile, reaching for his hand. His breath hitched as your fingers curled around his, warm and familiar. He exhaled slowly, squeezing back.

Inside, the house was quiet. Too quiet. Usually, the space felt warm, full of life with your presence, but now it felt hollow. Marshall led you to the couch, easing you down like you were made of glass. You sighed, resting your head back against the cushion, and he kneeled in front of you, his hands braced on his thighs.

“You okay?”

You hummed softly. “Just tired.”

Marshall nodded, his gaze sweeping over you. The bruises along your arms had started to fade, but they were still there—constant reminders of what had happened. His stomach twisted.

“I—I got some stuff for you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Extra pillows, blankets. Whatever you need.”

You smiled, small but real. “I just need you.”

His breath shuddered out of him. He wanted to tell you how badly he needed you too, how the past few weeks had wrecked him, but the words got stuck. Instead, he reached up, cupping your cheek so gently it barely felt like a touch at all.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he admitted, voice raw.

Your eyes softened, and you leaned into his palm. “I know.”

For the first time since you woke up, he let himself fold forward, resting his forehead against your knees. Your fingers wove into his hair, soothing, grounding. His shoulders sagged as he exhaled deeply.

“I’m here, Marsh,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And finally, finally, some of the weight in his chest eased.

---

Days passed, and Marshall hovered—always there, always watching, but never touching. He did everything for you. He brought you water before you could even ask, tucked blankets around you before you felt the cold, adjusted pillows, made sure you ate, made sure you took your meds, but he wouldn’t just *be* with you. Not in the way you needed.

At night, he’d sit at the edge of the bed, watching over you, but when you reached for him, he’d make some excuse and step away. During the day, he stayed busy, cleaning, cooking—anything to keep moving. But he never let himself just hold you, and it was starting to weigh on you.

One night, you had enough. You sat up in bed, watching him stand by the window, staring out like he was waiting for something that would never come.

“Marsh,” you called softly.

He turned, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. “Yeah, baby?”

You lifted the blanket, an open invitation. “Come here.”

He hesitated. The ghost of the hospital clung to him, the image of you hooked up to those machines, pale and lifeless. Every time he closed his eyes, that’s what he saw. It burned in his mind, kept him from reaching for you the way he so desperately wanted to.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he murmured.

Your heart clenched. “You won’t.”

His hands fisted at his sides. “I can’t stop seein’ you there,” he admitted, voice tight. “All hooked up, not movin’. I just—” He broke off, jaw locking.

You reached out, fingers barely brushing his wrist. “I’m here, Marshall. I’m not there anymore.”

He swallowed hard, looking at you like he wanted to believe it but couldn’t quite let himself. You sat up more, ignoring the ache in your body, and took his hand, guiding it to rest against your cheek. His breath stuttered as his thumb traced lightly over your skin.

“I need you,” you whispered. “Not just hovering, not just taking care of me. *You.*”

Something in his expression cracked. Slowly, he climbed onto the bed, lying beside you, stiff at first. You turned into him, resting your head against his chest, and after a moment, his arms wrapped around you—tentative at first, then tighter, like he was finally letting himself believe you were real.

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deep. “I was so fuckin’ scared,” he admitted, voice rough.

You pressed a kiss against his chest. “I know. But I’m here. I’m safe.”

Marshall exhaled shakily, holding you closer. And this time, he didn’t pull away.

Something in his expression cracked. Suddenly, his lips were on yours—desperate, searching, like he didn’t know if he’d ever get to kiss you again. He poured everything into it, his hands finally gripping your waist, pulling you closer. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his hair, grounding him in the reality that you were here, alive, safe.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. “I thought I lost you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“You didn’t,” you promised. “I’m right here.”

You fell asleep in his arms that night, wrapped in warmth and security, but Marshall stayed awake, staring at the ceiling. His mind wouldn’t quiet. He kept thinking about the man who had done this to you. And he kept thinking about what you hadn’t told him.

Morning came slowly, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the curtains. You stirred against him, blinking sleepily as you met his gaze.

“Baby,” he said gently, his fingers tracing slow circles on your back. “I need to ask you somethin’.”

You hummed, still half-asleep. “What is it?”

Marshall hesitated, then asked, “Did he ever hurt you before?”

Your breath caught. You looked away, fingers curling into his shirt, and for a long moment, you didn’t speak. Then, barely above a whisper, you said, “Yeah.”

Marshall’s grip on you tightened, but he stayed silent, letting you continue.

“When he was drinking… he used to hit me. It got bad sometimes,” you admitted, voice shaky. “But then he got locked up for robbery, and I moved on. I met you. I thought he was out of my life for good.” You swallowed hard. “Until he showed up at the store.”

Marshall’s jaw clenched. His arms tightened around you, his heart pounding with a mix of fury and protectiveness. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the storm inside him. He wasn’t going to let that man come near you ever again.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured. “I swear to God, baby, he’s never gonna touch you again.”

And this time, he meant it.

---

The next few days were a slow adjustment, but at least you were finally getting around on your own. The soreness was still there, the bruises lingering like ugly shadows on your skin, but you refused to let them define you. You moved through the house carefully, testing your limits, determined to regain a sense of normalcy. But something else was shifting, something much harder to navigate.

Marshall wasn’t scared anymore. He was angry.

It started small—tension in his jaw, clipped responses, the way his hands curled into fists when he thought you weren’t looking. But you saw it. You felt it in the air, heavy and thick, waiting to explode. He still did everything for you, still made sure you had what you needed, but his touches were sharper now. His kisses, when he gave them, were too quick, too restrained. He wouldn’t talk about it, wouldn’t tell you what was going on in his head, but you could see the storm brewing just behind his eyes.

And you weren’t going to let it fester.

One evening, as he stood by the window, arms crossed tight over his chest, you decided enough was enough.

“Marshall.”

He didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

You crossed the room, stepping closer. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t do that,” you said softly. “Don’t shut me out.”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not shutting you out.”

“Yes, you are.” You touched his arm, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingers. “Talk to me.”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t wanna talk.”

“Then what do you want?”

He finally turned to face you, and the look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. There was fire there, simmering rage barely kept in check. “I want to go back in time,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “I want to be there. I want to stop him before he ever lays a fuckin’ hand on you.”

You swallowed. “You couldn’t have known.”

His eyes darkened. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

You took a careful step forward. “Marshall—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words came sharp, unexpected. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about him?”

You sucked in a breath. “I didn’t think he mattered anymore.”

“Didn’t matter?” His voice was incredulous now, tinged with something close to betrayal. “He *beat* you, and you didn’t think that mattered?”

“I thought he was gone,” you said, hating the way your voice trembled. “I thought I was safe.”

Marshall let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Safe,” he muttered. “Yeah, real fuckin’ safe.”

The weight of his anger crashed over you like a wave, suffocating, suffused with something deeper—guilt, frustration, helplessness. You could see it now, clear as day. He wasn’t just mad at your ex. He was mad at himself. And maybe, just maybe, he was mad at you, too.

“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes snapped to yours, something breaking inside him at your words. In an instant, he had you backed against the wall, his hands gripping your waist, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp. His breath was hot against your lips, his eyes dark and wild.

“Not of me,” he murmured. “Don’t ever be scared of me.”

“I’m not,” you whispered. “But I need to understand what’s going on in your head.”

His fingers flexed against you, his body caging you in, and then—his lips were on yours, desperate, consuming. It wasn’t soft, wasn’t careful. It was raw, fueled by all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. You gasped into his mouth, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders as he pressed you harder against the wall.

This was what he needed. Control. Reassurance. Proof that you were still his, still here, still breathing. He kissed you like he was trying to brand the memory of you into his soul, to erase the fear that had clawed at him for weeks.

When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathing hard. His forehead rested against yours, his hands still gripping your hips like he couldn’t let go.

“I need to know you’re mine,” he admitted hoarsely.

You cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve *always* been yours.”

His eyes searched yours, and something in him finally settled. His grip on you eased, his lips brushing over your forehead, softer this time.

But it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed to *feel* you, to know you were alive and safe in a way words couldn’t express. Without another thought, he lifted you into his arms, holding you close as he carried you to the bed.

“Marsh,” you breathed, hands gripping his shoulders.

“I need this,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “Need you.”

He laid you down carefully, his weight pressing over you, solid and grounding. His lips found yours again, this time slower, reverent. Every touch, every kiss, was a silent vow, a desperate need to remind himself that you were still here, still his, and that he’d never have to know what life was like without you.

And in that moment, wrapped in him, you knew—you were safe. Always.

[echantedtoon]

PLEASE PLEASE!! KAGAYA WITH WIFE READER AND HIS REACTION TO HER PREGNANT WITH THEIR CHILDREN!! 🙏 I SWEAR THERE'S BARY ANY KAGAYA CONTENT!!

Warnings for pregnancy and death mentions. I'll do this version in Kimetsu Gauken since I barely write for that version of the characters. Just pretend Amane and Kagaya are just coworkers and reader is his wife for this post.

-You both had been married for just a year now having met through work as Kagaya was the chairman of the academy and you the secretary for him and both the principal and vice principal. So this really came as a shock for both of you to find out.

-You both are just starting out in your early twenties and weren't planning on having kids so soon but neither were against the idea of it. Your mindset being if it happens it happens if it doesn't it doesn't. So when you started displaying the symptoms a little while after your first year anniversary you just thought it was a reaction to something you ate. You did crave some more take out lately so maybe it was bad takeout food? A student had recently been sent home for having a stomach bug. Perhaps you caught it somehow? Maybe you were allergic to something new? 

-After medicine and resting doesn't work out, Kagaya insists on scheduling a doctor's appointment for you. Unfortunately he's unable to go with you to said appointment because of an emergency work meeting but you assure him that your mom can just drive you back home. You were really just expecting it to be a bad case of stomach flu or something similar so imagine your shock when the doctor and nurse comes back from doing tests with bright smiles on their faces. "Congratulations, Mrs. Ubuyashiki! You're a month pregnant!"

-You're shocked. Absolutely happy but so shocked. As said before you both really weren't trying for a baby or really planning on having any so soon but you knew your husband would be incredibly happy with the news. Later that night when he's tired from work and you're all happy he's smiling and kissing your face like usual. "Hello, Dear. You seem cheerful. I trust the doctor visit went well?" "Yes! He figured out what was wrong with me right away!" "That's wonderful news. Did he give you medicine then? You seem to be feeling much better." You wait for him to start taking off his coat before you say anything. "Nope! But I know what's going on?" "And what's that?" "I'm pregnant." "Oh, that's ni-..."

-You giggled as the coat falls from his hands and he turns to you with the most wide eyed shocked look of his life. You were initially nervous when you found out that you were pregnant considering Kagaya didn't have the best family. Both his brothers and mother passing in a house fire when he was little, father dying later unable to handle the loss, and not to mention the constant friction from his cousin Muzan. You always knew that's why he was reluctant to start a family of his own. But when you saw the way his lower lip starts trembling in a smile and tears gather in his eyes as he hesitantly approaches you-

-"A-Are you sure?" "Yep. The doctor says I'm already a month in." This man drops to his knees and hugs your middle smiling and weeping into your stomach with the happiest feeling he's ever had. "Dear, y-you don't know h-h-how happy you've made me!"

-EVERYONE knows by the end of the week. Mostly because Kagaya is too happy and excited to keep it to himself and brings it up once every day even if it's in the middle of a meeting- "Sir, this year's senior prank caused damage to the men's locker room at the gym!" "Don't worry! It's going to be fixed! Did I ever tell you my wife is pregnant, Nakime?!" "*sigh* Yes, Sir. You mention it every day." 

-Everyone is so happy for him minus Nakime who's annoyed by his constant talk of it but keeps it to herself. The girl staff and Rengoku already planned out and threw you both a baby shower as well, with Shinobu yelling at Tengan that a onesie he personally studied with sparkly fake jewels was not safe for a baby to wear! Muzan knows too via Nakime being his spy but he can't escape Kagaya calling him and bragging about it every few days. "Hey, Muzan! My gorgeous wife is having our children!" "I KNOW ALREADY!! You don't have to call me every time I have a meeting just to tell me!" "Where would the fun be then?~"

-When you're around 4 months is when you start working from home on your laptop as your stomach has gotten awfully large. You two are so happy though it doesn't even register in your minds until one of your friends just happened to ask you- "So how's the twins?" "Twins?" "Oh. Well I figured you were having twins since you seem rather large. Are you farther along than I thought?" Kagaya quickly schedules another doctors appointment for an ultrasound. Imagine the shock on your faces when you're handed over the black and white photo.

There's not one not two not three not even four- but FIVE babies! Quintuplets. You both were having quintuplets. You need to sit down and have the nurse bring you a glass of water before you faint, meanwhile your man is a blubbering, crying, happy mess just hugging the picture to him. He later frames that picture and keeps it on his desk at work, showing it to everyone. Nakime and Muzan get more bothered by him now.

-As for how he'd treat you while pregnant- Man will take care of you. holding your hair back when you have morning sickness, getting you any food You're cravin, buys anything you may want or need. he learns how to cook meals if he can't get what you want and has to make it instead. You once caught him reading some early parenting books, and on another occasion he was found speaking to your parents for advice. Will be attentive to both the baby and you as you recover from giving birth and even before giving birth. Will carry them around in a sling when you need a break and will take care of any household needs during the entire time you're pregnant.

-He's very well off because of his work to expect your babies to have a room for each one of your babies each having been filled up already with toys and cribs and clothes and he's still bringing more home. However he always gets your input on everything before making a final decision because he loves and values you and wants your approval. It's always "Do you want water? I think the baby wants water." Or "Do you think the nursery would be better in black and white or greys? Those are neutral colors since we don't know what we're getting." Or "I got you your favorite food! Don't wanna neglect my beautiful wife now.~" Is very invested in their raising. Rocking them to sleep, bed time stories, research for educational toys- This man is determined to give his children the life he didn't.

-When it's the final month of your pregnancy he stays home. Uses all his vacation time plus holiday time as Amane generously offers to take care of everything for you both as you take the journey. He's there when you go into labor, riding with you to the hospital, and let's you practically murder his hand as you give birth to your children. Cries, and cries and cries happily for hours as he holds all five with the nurses help in his lap and his arms. Telling you how beautiful they were and says "Thank you thank you thank you" for giving him such precious gifts.

[theshipsong]

suit of cups | x (end)

basil hawins x f!reader, angst angst angst, cw: canon-typical violence, discussion of orientalism and death. selfship; reader is an astrologer, the grudge dolph's former navigator, and explicitly racialized (southeast asian). wc: 2.2k | est. 8 min read

{ last card }

The Devil.

That's what Hawkins thought when Kaidou stood in the crater he left on Kid's base.

"And did you have any such reminders? Warnings?"

Curious how he drew so many cards every day, but one pull from years ago shot to the surface of his memory.

It wasn't very fair, now that Hawkins had seen Kaidou's son and appreciated the horns were ogre, not infernal, but tarot was a book of archetypes embedded in his mind from adolescence. You embodied pages and queens, Strength and the Sun depending on the day, while he was a knight or a king, often the Fool or now, the Hermit.

You'd say something rational, historical. That the Devil in his deck had some literary forebear, that he wasn't anything to fear. But Hawkins was always a bit more literal than you. He saw Kaidou doublefisting gourds of sake, and the card's traditional definition of hedonism and indulgence walked before him, roaring about Eustass Kid and Straw Hat.

"Because you're known for your excesses."

Hawkins doesn't mind the Land of Wano. He hasn't had so much rice since he left home, left your family's hearth. That curious bleeding heart of yours wouldn't stand for it, though, at whose expense Hawkins and the Beasts Pirates ate so well. Your ancestral land was somewhere to the south of here, on the equator that sliced the Grand Line into wedges. Wano's borders, in practice, were only closed to the World Government, and Wanoan pirates weren't as rare as Kozuki Oden would make them seem, some even traversing the Calm Belt to Kano's shores. But they were part of the reason your great grandparents' generation risked the Calm Belt themselves: piracy between non-affiliated nations was no one's problem.

Hawkins didn't have much empathy to spare when he was more worried about his crew. He stored Faust's Vivre Card in his pauldron and yours in a pocket sewn into the inside of his every shirt. Faust's was a recent addition since Hawkins entered this alliance, a pit stop made before docking at Kid's base to watch the broadcast from Punk Hazard. Hawkins instructed Faust that at the first sign of trouble, the Mink was to manhandle as many of the men back onto the Grudge Dolph as possible and disembark immediately, leaving their captain behind. While Kid's subordinates went through a cavalcade of horrors, Hawkins had dubious comfort of seeing his vice captain's Vivre Card wax and wane and wobble in circles as they tried to navigate the New World.

Don't come. Don't rescue me.

This was it for him.

At night, he set these scraps of paper on the floor by his futon and fell asleep watching them twitch and spark. Yours was torn in half, half on the Grudge Dolph. If Faust had any sense, he'd find you and tell you what happened to your captain; if he had any luck, you'd navigate them back to the North Blue yourself. Your Vivre Card was almost always whole, only singed at the edges with periodic exhaustion that healed over with a night's sleep, he assumed, and it always pointed west toward the Red Line.

🜄

The first year without you was hell.

They had no democratic way to use your bed besides letting your office-room become a sort of second sick bay or a guest room. You left a copy of your log there; you'd always kept parallel notes and charts, which was only sensible archival practice, but Hawkins couldn't help but think you anticipated leaving from the very start.

Irrational as it was, Hawkins looked for you everywhere, on his ship, in his cards, on land, as if you'd follow them like rumors about your fortunetelling claimed: that you weren't a pirate yourself, but a spectre on his trail. Hawkins' Witch. Spectre was more right, the way you haunted him.

That rumor didn't follow him to the New World, replaced by a reputation for brutality. In some ways, he was free: from your judgment, or more like your pain, your cursed empathy. After dismembering those pirates at Foodvalten, Hawkins was tense, waiting for you to bear down on him, but you didn't. And the silence ached.

Hawkins missed having another reader aboard. Most of the crew knew, at least, the Major Arcana, but Faust's knowledge of the Minor Arcana was rudimentary at best, and the Mink didn't care for divination, more taken with astronomy and the phases of the moon, nature and its cycles. You would counter his interpretations entirely, or pull from one of your own decks with insights he'd never think of, that he disagreed with, your stubborn way of shuffling only uprights.

And he missed you in his bed. Sex was a tertiary interest to the sound of your breathing, the scent of your perfume after a shower, your fingers idly combing through his hair, and knowing you were safe as you could be for the night, in his arms.

🜄

Hawkins doesn't often think the women of Wano resemble you. Their culture was too distinct, and Wano's climate too variable for that to be the case. Your skin was darker, your eyes infinitesimally rounder, and your hair had more texture. Beyond rice, the cuisine wasn't quite like your family's, either, so he felt like a guest in the wrong house.

The children made him think of you, though. How none of them stuck out, how alien you were to your North Blue village. Hawkins supposed the equivalent would be himself growing up here, or your homeland. He knew he was alien here, all the Beasts Pirates were, and you'd disapprove for the same reason you'd shook your head over headlines about Alabasta: "Pirates aren't imperialists. We're not supposed to stay on land, much less rule it."

Somewhere between the stars and the sea, you cultivated quite the political vocabulary. He would have attributed it to arguing with those Marine cadets you met while he was gone, but now he saw the conditions of a World Government non-affiliate and thought, with some irony, it was a wonder you were a pirate and not a revolutionary. Hawkins was grateful you chose the former, if only for a while.

Speaking of Marines, X Drake sometimes got in a friendly mood, usually if he had a bit of sake. Hawkins knew it was loneliness rather than fondness, missing his transparently obvious brothers-in-arms in the Navy, and Hawkins was the closest thing he had to a peer as a new addition to the Beasts Pirates.

Hawkins indulged in one drink. It was your birthday, and he hoped you were having one, too.

"What about you, Hawkins? Got anyone waiting for you?"

He regretted it already.

"Come on. Pretty boy. Some women are into that."

Hawkins' lip curled at what he knew Drake meant as a compliment, but smarted from childhood. "You're drunk."

"Oh? So there's a woman? I remember—" Drake hiccuped. "Your crew was all men. A girl at home? Or that witch?"

He said it facetiously, and Hawkins was glad to know the Navy wasn't interested enough to pursue you.

"I'm leaving."

"Don't you want to make it out? Get back to her?" Drake called after him.

Idiot. Awful spy.

Kizaru all but blew the Zoan user's cover at Sabaody. Hawkins tried to discern his allegiance only to be led in circles by the Seven of Cups, the Five of Swords, and the Moon. It all screamed not to trust the other Supernova.

Hawkins didn't trust anyone outside his crew, not Kid or Apoo for a single second of that alliance. (Of course his crew always includes you.) What possessed him to enter it, anyway? The fraternity of Sabaody two years prior? That was certainly Apoo's angle. Did Hawkins really think they or he stood a chance against Red-Haired? Kid lost to him once already. Why Red-Haired? Because he was one of the younger yonkou? Now that Hawkins made regularly contact with Kaidou, he laughed at the idea.

If Kaidou was the Devil, Red-Haired must be the Emperor. Big Mom was a grotesque sort of Empress, the Taurean goddess's logical extreme. And something about Blackbeard lying in wait all those years was like the Hanged Man.

The Hanged Man heals himself before returning from limbo, stronger and more ambitious than before, but Hawkins isn't like Teach. So he takes the hand he was dealt and returns to Kuri, thinking of you.

🜄

"Captain."

You didn't need to announce yourself as you stepped in the shower behind him. He smiled to himself, not turning around but stooping slightly for you to comb conditioner through his hair. You made a fond, exaggerated noise of annoyance.

"You're welcome."

"Thank you," he said, and he tried not to audibly react to your touch.

"How have you managed without me?"

You meant the years of only being crewmates, but Hawkins revisits these moments from your too-brief reunion like they're burn scars.

You didn't mean to be cruel. You were hurting, and he could help. But he looked at your empty room, or a gap in his wardrobe that he knew you were responsible for, and cursed you. How dare you remind him what he missed. How dare you dangle a dream he'd forgotten and then run away.

There's public bathhouses in Wano, mixed-gender, and Hawkins imagines walking into one with you, even as crewmates, not even touching each other, and any man or woman who coveted you would see the distinctive black cross between your shoulders, as large as the one at his throat and know you belonged to him first.

The thought of you moving on made him ill, moreso than whoever you slept with when he first traveled the North Blue, moreso than the one-night stands you sometimes had after you broke up. It meant he really was suspended here, and the world spun on while he didn't, Wano didn't, clutched as it was in its shogunate and Kaidou's claws.

The other Headliners made frequent visits to the Flower Capital's hanamichi, and Hawkins saw how young some of the geisha and maiko were outside these tea houses and became possessed by your bleeding heart. He wondered what you'd say. It wasn't necessarily sex work, and these women and girls could be as well-educated as you. It more reminded him how you called tarot a party trick; that an astrological reading was a kind of show; that you must have also used your beauty to draw clients. What did you say about your career reading cards in port cities? "It helps to be exotic."

The way some of the Beasts Pirates looked at the geisha reminded him of the leers he tried to shield you from, physically with the breadth of his body or forcefully with his Devil Fruit. You tolerated it depending on your intimacy at the moment, and welcomed it more before you left. To some degree, you hid in him, the new you who'd killed, the new you who'd survived.

He told himself you were happy, you were walking in the light, you were safe.

🜄

Hawkins didn't need to draw a single card to know Straw Hat's landing in Wano marked a major change.

When he tried calculating the younger pirate's chances of surviving Akainu, he drew several confounding spreads, and no matter how he shuffled the same two Major Arcana cropped up: Death and the Sun. Back then, Hawkins discerned Death signified Trafalgar Law, and the Sun came from Jinbe, First Son of the Sea's crew, the two men that fled Marineford with the injured Straw Hat.

But.

Every few mornings since your birthday, Hawkins pulled Death.

Where Straw Hat was lately, the Surgeon of Death was surely near. But Hawkins wasn't that naive. Something was ending: Hawkins' life, the Kurozumi clan, the shogunate, Wano's isolation, something.

Your cards were almost pedestrian. The Ace of Cups. The Two of Swords. The King of Coins. A choice, a new chance, presented by an older person, an earth sign. Hawkins didn't go around asking people's birth dates like you did. He didn't know Kaidou's, he didn't know Kid's or Apoo's, Drake's or any of his fellow Headliners'. He knew his crew's because you kept track.

Hitokiri Kamazo, he thought ironically as he looked at the Two of Swords.

The early morning before Himatsuri, your Vivre Card looks brand new, like it wasn't haphazardly torn but sold in a half sheet. It damn near glows in the darkness of Hawkins' room. Was it possible to become more alive? Only you could.

He wonders if you even look at his, and knows you must, at least every few days. You were too soft not to. He wonders if it reacts to his lost Straw Dolls, or Trafalgar bisecting him, and he wants to explain himself. You'd scold him or punch him over it, but hug him, always grateful for a false alarm.

Or maybe you were complete because you were without him, because you'd forgotten him. In that case, he can sail to Onigashima with a clear conscience. He'll serve, like the Hermit ought to, alone and without complaint.

[lucky-lucky-duck]

Snapshot: Life as a Vagastrom Student

I love Leo, but I love to argue with him in my head like we're rival mean girls in an early 00's movie when I'm freaking out about finals even more. Then this was born. Tada ⋄

Gender Neutral Ghoul Student!Reader with Alan, Leo, and Sho. Relationships written ambiguously.

Slight warning for language? It's not really that bad.

⋄Explaining internet culture to Alan⋄

You don't bother to repress your sigh as the blank look forms on your captain's face. "They called you a boomer, man. It means you're old. Which is, like, factually inaccurate, considering there's a vampire on campus." A small frown tugs at the edges of your mouth, "It's also mean. Who said that to you?"

A hand lands on your head in a clear a show show of thanks, and the achingly gentle nature of the touch is completely unwarranted for the situation. "Doesn't matter. Thanks."

Warmth radiates from your cheeks, and you duck your face away as you respond at Alan's retreating back, "No worries, dude... Remind me to show you Urban Dictionary some time."

⋄ Communicating with Leo via passive aggressive Tiktok trends ⋄

"I'm passing the phone to the worst candidate for vice-captain, who ate my fucking oreo's without replacing them." The faux cheer in your voice is a stark contrast to the primal rage in your eyes when your gaze meets the man across from you. You're pretty sure this trend is supposed to be done in separate rooms, but it's not like that matters when Leo and his stigma are involved. Plus, this feels like a much better way to drive home the point.

A sly, wicked smile slides up the sides of Leo's lips, and you don't have time to feel regret before the words leave his mouth like daggers with ruthless precision, "I'm passing the phone to a No-Name NPC who is so unremarkable that the faculty evaluators actually forgot they existed."

A pregnant pause fills the common area. Even some of the general students have paused, the hustle and bustle of the garage doing nothing to stop the growing tension. "Hey, so, why are you always such a cun--"

⋄ Tasting all Sho's newest recipes ⋄

"What do you think?"

The taste hits your tongue in an explosion of different sensations. The crispiness of the tortilla blends wonderfully with the different spices and garnishes. If you didn't know that this is Sho's first attempt at both street tacos and using the anomalous mystery meat from the student store, you wouldn't have guessed. "It's great."

"Just great? That's all you've got to say?"

“It is great,” you bristle defensively and lean down to take another large bite.

“I legitimately invited you here to give feedback,” Sho snipes back, grimacing at the bits of food that drop from your mouth as you speak with your mouth full.

“Yeah, and I told you it’s great?” You decidedly ignore the thick judgemental edge in the man's tone as you finish off the last bit of your meal and hold your plate out for another. “No notes.”

The next taco is placed onto your plate, and Sho's eye-roll is fully audible, despite him turning back to the stove. “Just be quiet and eat.”

[majesty0h]

~Sharing is CARING. And Toji Cares About You Very Much~ imagine this is them ok

You and Toji have a great sex life. Scratch that, you have an AMAZING sex life. His stamina is stupid, he's packing bigger than you've ever encountered...he's a FREAK. A hulking, muscled freak who's down for anything and has showed your usually prude ass things you've never even dreamed of. Bondage, wearing vibrators in public, petplay, breathplay, temperature play, hell one time he ate your ass on the balcony while he was dressed as Wolverine. You had no clue where he got all of these ideas, but you certainly weren't complaining.

The current "thing" was watching porn on your VR headset while he went down on you. He'd been shocked to hear that you didn't consume it regularly, I mean, he was beating off to BBW on the Hub every chance he got. He was determined to force you outside your comfort zone.

It started slow, vanilla. Standard B/G, anal. Then it evolved to breeding, cucking, double penetration...

That's when he noticed it.

You took forever, FOREVER to cum on his mouth (to his annoyance) when you were watching dirty movies. But when you stumbled upon a woman getting plowed by her husband and his best friend...you were quick. Too quick. The way you moaned and gripped his hair, pulling him in deeper, it caused his tongue to stop flickering for a moment.

"Hm? What the fuck's gotten you so riled up, ma?"

You instantly freeze and pause the video, cheeks burning red behind that stupid headset, feeling dirty, feeling bad. It was bad this was so hot, right? "Uh, nothing. Just usual stuff," you lied.

You're a terrible liar.

You feel and hear the bed creak as he shifts up and snatches the device off you, raising it up and peering. He's wearing just grey sweatpants, that were tenting the minute he realized what was up. A shit eating grin spread across his face. "Oh fuck. That's what you're into now?"

You groan and throw a pillow at him. "Shu up! I've just never seen it before. You ruined the mood."

Your boyfriend is snickering at your discomfort. "Uh huh. Get on all fours. I wanna see who fucks her better."

You push this morning's events out of your head as you go to work. And it's definitely not when you return home ten hours later, tired, annoyed, and frustrated.

"Hey babes. Welcome home!" Toji, your beautiful trophy boy calls from the living room. "How was work?"

Sighing you kick off your heels and scan your phone. "It was rough. This merger is insane. We have 5 million dollars riding on this and everyone wants to dick around. I thought being Vice President was worth the drama, but it's seriously getting to me," you vent as you scroll through dozens of confidential, high priority emails.

Maybe that's why you loved Toji so much. Whenver you're with him, you don't think about deadlines, trades, layoffs. Just feeling good, happy, and full.

Walking into the living room, you're so engrossed you don't even register there's someone else sitting on the couch with Fushiguro. You only look up in confusion when the stranger whistles, low and deep. It's almost like a purr. "Damn Toji, you weren't lyin'. Complete smokeshow."

Your eyes widen and your head snaps up. There he is, manspreading on your very expensive couch, sleek black boots pressed against your /very/ expensive white rug. He's tall, lanky, built like a beanpole. He's got a shock of white hair, and he's wearing small, circle shaped sunglasses, but the shine of dazzling blue eyes peek through anyways.

Toji's looking at you like it's Christmas morning, his gaze darting between the other man and his jaded wifey. He seems to drink in your confusion.

"Oh...I...I didn't know you had a friend over," you say after an awkward pause. You're trying to address your man, but you can't tear your eyes away from this twink. Who is he? "Hi?"

The stranger beams, shifting to a more professional posture. God he is tall. You feel so small under his gaze, and you glance to Toji for help, understanding. He offers none. "Hey, pretty lady. My name is Jerome. Jerome Washington. The building's maintenance man. I heard..." he leans slightly closer to you, sliding his shades just down an inch. "You need your pipes cleaned."

You blink. "No? The pipes are fine?"

Toji groans in disproval and shoves "Jerome" slightly. "Dude, I told you, you don't gotta do any of that shit. Just be normal, for fuck's sake."

The stranger, who was doing his best to seem mysterious and commanding, broke into a boyish smile. "Oh yeah my bad. Sup? I'm Satoru Gojo. I'm going to fuck the shit out of you tonight!"

"We," Toji corrected, but he's got that same expression.

Have you gone crazy? Has the stress finally made you crack? Are you hallucinating? This was a fever dream. Toji had a knack for wanting to snap the neck of any man who even looked at you...so why was he sitting here, giddy, as this "Satoru" addressed you so vulgar? So hungry?

"...huh?" is the only thing you can say, darting between the pair. You're more than a yard away, but you can practically smell the lust filling the room. "Toji...what is--"

"Remember earlier today?" he interrupts, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "When you were creamin' over that video? The Eiffel Tower?"

"Toji!!"you hiss, flustered he would bring this up in front of a guest.

He cocks his head, throwing Gojo a knowing smirk. "She's all shy. Isn't that cute? But I promise, she was feening."

Satoru licks his lips, still undressing you with his eyes. "I bet. To be honest I haven't either. But I'm not stupid enough to turn it down."

Toji snorts. "Yeah? Don't worry, I'll show your prudes how it's done." He snaps his fingers at you. "C'mere doll. C'mere and kneel."

You're glued to the same spot, trying to reconcile what's happening. You watch as Satoru pats his knee, promising not to bite, unless you're into that.

"Princess,"Toji repeats again, his tone firm and commanding enough to snap you back to reality. You know that voice. It's the "you listen or you're in a lot of trouble" voice.

Sheepishly, you stare at your feet as you shuffle forward. You can't ignore how your heart beats in your chest, how your dress feels too tight, how this is the hottest fucking thing you've ever experienced.

"Kneel."

You don't defy him. You look up at them both with doey eyes, shuddering when he grips your chin, stroking your cheek with the pad of his calloused thumb. Gojo hums and repeats the same motion on the other side. His touch is soft and warm, and you can't help the soft sigh that escapes you. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the growing warmth. Your boyfriend presses your foreheads together, his voice syrupy against your ear. "I love you so much, doll. I'd do anything to make you happy. If this doesn't show it, nothing else will. Now you just relax and I'm gonna make your fantasies all come true," he promise as he nips at your neck. "Now start making our friend feel at home."

You swallowed hard. You feel like you could faint. You want to reply "yes daddy" like the good girl you are, but words fail you. All you can do is nod.

You take a deep breath and scoot over, still on your knees, but nestled between Gojo's skinny legs. He smiles down at you innocently, but the contents of his words are far from it. "You have such pretty lips, sweetie. How about you open them for me?"

You glance at Toji for reassurance, but he's gone from the couch, crouching behind you, fingers weaving into your hair, massaging your scalp. "Go on."

Your hands tremble as you reach for Gojo's belt.

((haven't written anything like this in years LOL im so rusty. stay tuned for part 2 and feel free to share ;D ))

[nonglukest]

Dramas that consumed me in 2024

Out of the many dramas I consumed this year, here are the ones that consumed me the most. They still haunt me in some sort of way. I think about them often. My brain literally still rots. Spoilers may be included under each gif.

I also wanted to work on gif skills so I made some new gifs and added ones I've made in the past.

The Spirealm - 2024

None of these are in any particular order but if I had one series that I thought about the most and felt the most grief over, it was The Spirealm. I will never be over the huge twist with Ruan Lan Zhu and the giant time skip they threw at us. If I let myself think about it, I cry. I still haven't finished the novel but I plan to eventually.

The On1y One - 2024

The loneliness from both of these boys was heartbreaking. They started off at odds, to brothers, to friends, to each others home. I still think about the stolen glances, little touches, their growth and healing. The unresolved feelings in the end hurts me and I pray we get a season two.

Peaceful Property - 2024

Of course Peaceful Property is still relatively fresh but I still think about this found family often.. The added stories of the ghosts were a special touch, I still think and cry about the mysteries that were going on at some of the properties. I thought I was coming into a silly little show but these goobers had me crying almost every episode. Home's english slang will live as react gifs to send to my husband for years to come.

Love in the Big City - 2024

I wish I could have watched LITBC weekly as half of the viewers here did just to have it last longer on my screen but I simply have no self control. It was a bittersweet ending and I find myself thinking about Yeong's relationships quite often. I am still completely heart broken that he pushed Gyu Ho out of his life because he didn't want to hold him back. I do hope that some day they see each other again and resume their life together.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo - 2024

This was a heartbreaking drama but with a happy ending. It gave me young boys with traumatic stories who find solace in each other, it gave me a small little snippet of what could be happiness, and it took it away for 12 years. I knew the time skip was coming but it was still devastating.

Jack and Joker - 2024

Jack and Joker is still fresh as well but I ate it up every week. I couldn't hate most of these, what I thought were, complex characters. Everyone did bad things to protect their loved ones. Joke did it for Jack, Tattoo did it for his mom, Save did it for Hope and vice versa. Obviously that doesn't mean I liked their choices. The weeks went by so slow waiting for the next episode.

Mr. Plankton - 2024

I don't like stories like this but I watched it for Woo Do Hwan. It didn't disappoint but i cried for days after finishing it. I cried when I made the gif! This damn beautiful smile! 😭 Hae Jo and Jae Mi had a second chance at love together. I often wonder how they would have lived together if Hae Jo didn't pass on. I wonder about the ways they could have started a family with fertility help or adoption. It hit me hard as well because I struggled with infertility.

Love Sea - 2024

Love Sea was the hottest thing I have ever watched on my tv screen ok. Not only that, I was infatuated with Mahasamut. If nothing else I think about Mahasamut quite often. I think about him protecting Meena. I think about him taking off his collar, so to speak, to knock out Jak.

My Stand In - 2024

Toxic Ming and Cinnamon Roll Joe. I was blind to the color red while watching this to be honest but I won't say I felt bad for Ming until maybe the last few episodes. Joe never got back to his body, and I didn't think he would, but I held onto a little hope that he may. I loved both of these characters, flaws and all. I cannot wait to see Up & Poom in their future project together.

2023 & Beyond

Bloodhounds - 2023

Bloodhounds is where I fell in love with Woo Do Hwan. Episode one where Gun Woo kicked all those bodyguards asses to save his mom is all it took for me to be hooked. This one kept me highly entertained as each episode kept me on the edge of my seat. The bromance was and is probably still my favorite. After I finished this series I started several dramas that couldn't hook me and I had to take a small drama watching break. I CANNOT WAIT for season two.

The Devil Judge - 2021

I need a detailed list of any and all similar series. I'll be honest, it took me a couple episodes to get into this but when I did... well I was done for. In the end, Yo Han leaves and Ga On is left alone. He literally has no one significant in his life now. No parents, No Su Hyeon, No Jeong Ho, No Yo Han, No Elijah. AND I WILL NEVER BE OVER THAT!

Beyond Evil - 2021

This drama has the most satisfying conclusion. Yes, the Dong Sik and Joo Won go onto their separate paths and yes I was sad, but I felt like it had to happen so everyone could move on. The things these two said to or about each other still drive me insane.

A Tale of Thousand Stars - 2021

1000 Stars took me on a journey that broke my heart and by the end healed me. I really need to rewatch this soon so I may be a little fuzzy on it. I didn't feel like the romance was a central part of the plot so I wasn't upset they had only kissed once at end. It was more about Tian and and his journey of self discovery. I remember being floored by the plot twist and I remember sobbing like a bitch.

Guardian - 2018

I put Guardian off for a long time even after I decided to watch it but I ended up loving this drama so much I read the novel series shortly after finishing. For a censored bl, I think the actors did fantastic portraying their feelings for each other. The way they looked at each other, spoke to each other, touched each other. I yearned for more. The drama made it a bromance but it is quite obvious they care for each other.

Currently watching that is consuming me: The Heart Killers, Our Youth, Spare Me Your Mercy. Would these make the list after they were finished airing? I don't know. I also finished Flower of Evil last night and I almost added it to this list but since it hasn't had time to marinate I decided against it.