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#!! gotta do Aura's next !!
yeahbumbleby · 1 year
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nothing broke me more in yesterday's episode than realizing that the only reason why ruby doesn't describe weiss to little when looking for blake and yang simply is because she thinks weiss made it to vacuo. girlie already racking up seven different kinds of breakdowns and she doesn't even know her best friend's presence on the island is going to introduce a brand new one... please pray for ruby rose because she's about to eat dust this volume
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keeps-ache · 8 months
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i'm going. so fast
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sparkyblizz · 4 months
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thinking about how I enjoy some good Aura scenes in my fics (varying genres of Aura from pre-UR-1 to no UR-1 to canon compliant tragic jailbird lesbian) but I lowkey should have her be the main character in another fic sometime, like, I wrote one aurametis fic, but what if I wrote another...? I dunno, I got a Kirby fic to finish wahaha, can't get too carried away with ideas now
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The festival has started!! The tourney doesn’t start for a day or two, but the festival is so neat!! Everyone is all dressed up, there's bunting everywhere, and all sorts of food and trinkets! I like the little buns shaped like a Riolu-it feels almost wrong to eat them, but they’re so tasty.
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starryhutcherson · 19 days
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━━ A NEW FAMILIAR
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author's note: crawled out of my hole for this one guys. sorry for being so ghost mode im working on putting out more stuff, apologies if this isn't of the highest quality as i'm running on sugar free redbull and three hours of sleep ! love my life hahahahaAHHHH
'୧ ‧₊ pairing: best friend!mike schmidt x reader warnings: 18+ sexual content! oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing word count: 4600+ ⋆ ✩‧₊
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Mike’s expression always glooms when you bring up the next date you’ve arranged. He knows how this story plays out; he knows the truth behind the men you’ve matched with on whatever sketchy website you’ve wasted your time on. They’ve molded themselves into the embodiment of perfection, through falsified photos and fabrications buried in their bios. His patience crumbles like fireplace ash as you skip around his living room and drone on about whatever dickhead you’ve set your poor, precious heart on.
He knows, always, the the outcome is running makeup and salty cheeks, sobbing on the floor of his living room in a creasing satin dress and his welcoming arms, a bitter exclamation of “you were right Mike” leaving your lips in the knowing silence and him gritting his jaw and pretending that it doesn’t bother him the the only habits you ever find yourself falling back into are the bad ones. 
It’s no different today. 
Mark or Matt or Mitch – you really were killing him, because it should be Mike. It should be him. Him that you’re getting ready for, him that you’re daydreaming about. And it’s an odd feeling, like a movie where your favorite character dies and then movie finishes and you have to accept that they aren’t coming back, no matter how long you sit glued to the reclinable chair, popcorn crunched beneath your sneakers and the credit-scene reflected in your shrinking pupils. 
Mike’s not the type to be happier with the hope – he’d let the truth swallow him up, sink into his creaking bones, he’d live with the loss. But he still has hope for you. He has hope that your eyes will open and you’ll seep into his brain and his breath and his bed. He hopes you’ll start seeing him instead of just looking. Maybe it's wishful thinking. Ignorant optimism.
It feels like it. 
It feels like it, right now, when he’s leaning against the doorframe of his bathroom and watching you get ready, your animated chatter reverberating around the small space between coats of mascara. He offered to give you a ride before you’d even asked, and he’ll tolerate the sting of watching you get out of the car looking all pretty for someone who isn’t him, just to make sure you get there safely. It’s the type of sacrifice he’ll make for you. 
“I can’t even feel my face, I’ve been smiling so hard all day!” You squeal, powdering your cheeks with more purposeless product – he thinks it’s all pointless. You’re radiant, even in the harsh lighting of his bathroom. 
He offers a low grunt. What is he supposed to say? He’s not happy. And he’s not gonna pretend he is. 
You either don’t notice or choose to ignore, continuing to doll yourself up to whatever standards you have for yourself. “I mean, he says he’s been skiing since he was 6. He’s practically an olympian.” 
Mike scoffs. 
“What?”
“Nothing,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Can you hurry up?”
“Alright, grumpy. Calm down. I gotta do my lips and then I’m ready. Plus, nobody told you that you gotta stand here.” 
A fleeting flush of fuchsia permeates his cheeks, but he looks down at his worn shoes to hide it. It’s true. He didn’t have to stand here. But if an angel was populating your bathroom you’d want to take a peek, would you not? That’s how he thinks you look. Angelic. Glowing from your soul, a content smile knitted on your lips. You might as well have a halo and wings – that heaven-sent aura is reinforced when you douse yourself in lingering washes of that sweet perfume that’s branded itself to you. He’d recognise that floral aroma anywhere, the way a shark detects a drop of blood amongst saline scattered seas. 
“Okay, I’m ready. How do I look?”
Cruelest question of them all. “You look… fine. Good.”
A knot forms in your brow. “All this effort for that terrible answer?” Playful, but with a truthful undertone. Why do you value his opinion so much? He doesn’t want to assume anything. 
“Well I’m not the person you’re dressing up for.” I wish I was. He doesn’t say the other words, but he thinks them so hard he’s half convinced if you were listening in the right spot, or looking into his eyes for long enough that you’d hear it anyway. 
“Okay, okay, whatever. Let’s just get going, don’t wanna keep Mack waiting.” 
Two letters. That’s all it would take. That’s all he’d have to swap to make it him.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
✩‧₊˚
Even if you aren’t aware, even if he did offer, he drives begrudgingly. He focuses as much as he can, on the road ahead and not your glistening figure beside him in the passenger seat, the very definition of temptation. 
The mall parking lot is barren, a few gleaming cars scattered amongst the otherwise desolate area. He pulls into a space, sets the car in park, rakes in a greedy sigh of air. 
“If anything happens, call me.” 
You sneer teasingly. “Don’t be so pessimistic. It’s gonna be great, he could be my future husband, y’know.”
Yep. Mack, the 35 year old you've met online, who’s only notable talent seems to be skiing and his greatest life achievement to date is shooting a deer, whose head is mounted to the wall in his bedroom, typically visible in the background of his many instagram posts which involved his shirtless figure straining to flex his overly pronounced bulk. A match made in heaven. He wants to scream. 
And how can you even tell him to not be pessimistic? How can you look him in the eyes and act like this moment hasn’t happened time after time, the point of no return before an evening spent crying in his arms as he reassures you that your failed dates are never your fault, even though by now it seems like you must be seeking out the same genre of shitty man if you’re this good at getting your heart broken. He’s sick of picking up the fragile little pieces of his bathroom floor, cutting himself on the shards of a heart that’ll never be his. You deserve more than these half-baked, single night romances. He could show you that. 
“Yeah, sure,” he grits. “Future husband. Just call me, seriously.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you.” 
And with that, you’re off, disappearing into the gaping mouth of the mall’s entrance, and he watches with an alkaline feeling growing in his stomach. Your hair is caught up in the wind like clothing on a washline and he thinks his hope is all drained out. 
✩‧₊˚
Mike spends a good two hours back at his house. His movements feel vacuous, staring ahead at the screen, barely processing the raging garbage that masquerades as reality TV. The rain has picked up outside, licking at the window panes with a growing intensity. 
He’s not happy about the jean skirt and tiny little tank top you’d clad yourself in prior to leaving, you’re probably frigid by now in the cold. You did however reassure him that Mack was gonna drive you home, or even worse, take you back to his place, so his stupid fucking elk head trophie could watch with it’s empty eyes while the pair of you fuck on the bed that his mom still has to make for him because he never can quite manage those fitted sheets, can he? Fucking manchild. 
Shit. Mike’s feeling so so bitter. Maybe it’s because he’s finally realized that this is the dreaded pattern he’s going to have to endure with you until death. Or until he braves up and actually tells you that he’s been in love with you since the fifth day of second grade, when you mouthily confronted Jerry Murdoch and told him to give Mike his crayons back.  
With a weak sigh, he turns the TV off with a click of the remote still encaptured in the loose hold of his fist, and decides to see if he can melt into any form of sleep – but the knock on his door prevents him from doing so. 
He arises lethargically, not having much on his mind but the denial of his slumber as he shuffles over and turns the handle, but then, it’s you. 
Fluttery lashes melted to black smudges beneath your eyes, a mixture of rainwater and tears, completely drenched and dripping all over his doormat, your body is trembling and you’re wracked with tiny little cries and he’s feeling so many emotions he believes he might implode. 
He pulls you inside and into his arms, stroking your back in gentle, soothing motions, and it kills him that this has become routine. He’s angry. He’s sick of this. 
“What happened this time?” He grunts softly. 
“He didn’t even show up. He couldn’t even send a message as to why, Mike,” you sniffle into his warm chest, drunk off the even echo of his heartbeat. 
A moment’s silence rots like aged fruit. He draws a breath in, then out, then in again. 
“Why didn’t you call me?”
You crane your face upwards to meet him, instantly bathed in a nervous shiver when you see how serious he looks. 
“My phone was dead.” Is all you can manage to mumble. 
“What?” He’s pissed. “Why didn’t you charge it? You could have charged it there, they have outlets at the mall. Or you could’ve used someone else’s, so you didn’t have to walk home in the rain, because you’re drenched.” 
“I don’t–”
“Y’know how dangerous it is to walk around alone in this shitty neighborhood? Half the street lights don’t even work, and I don’t even know any of my neighbors, or what kinda people walk around here at night.” He grumbles. “I shouldn’t have to tell you all this, I’m sick of explaining all this to you.”
You roll your eyes irritably, releasing yourself from his arms and crossing your own across your dripping wet torso. “How was I supposed to know he was gonna stand me up? You’re telling me I should just expect it?”
He blinks like a deer in headlights, silence settles into his flesh.
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
You scoff. “It’s what you implied.” 
“It’s not what I—” He grumbles weakly under his breath, cutting himself off, deciding reasoning with you is somewhat of a useless attempt. “Why can’t you just listen to me?”
“What, charge my phone next time? Bring a raincoat? Yeah, great help, seriously, don’t know where I’d be without you,” your sarcasm hits like gunshot wounds to the teeth. 
“Or maybe you should try to meet actual people, instead of fake ones from some stupid website.” 
After a cold shiver bites up your spine, your expression deepens with defense. What is his fucking problem? “At least I try to get out of the house! At least I don’t spend every hour of every day moping around and feeling sorry for myself!” 
The pair of you fight, sure, every good relationship, friend or romance or family or whatever should, but nothing like this. This is stone-set, it’s been coming for a while, the wild gesticulations and the pacing and the raised voices. It shakes the bones of the weakened house. 
“Don’t,” Mike says with a furious edge, fists tightening and untightening like he’s about to take a swing at the wall, like this is going to end with bleeding knuckles nipped with shards of worn plaster. “Don’t throw that in my face, I do everything I can, for you and Abby. It’s not like I have a choice.”
“So what, you’re so fucking miserable in your own life that you have to try and control mine?”
“Control? You’re like my child! You don’t even know how to take care of yourself half the time, so yes, I try to help you not to make such shitty decisions!” 
You scowl. “You’re not obligated to do anything for me, y’know Mike. Why do you keep me around if I’m that much of a chore for you!”
He snaps, the tension in his fists bleeding up into his throat, his mouth, the words clot behind his gums and suddenly they tumble out in a fury-fueled shout. “Because you’ve got no one else!” 
You deflate, wilting like a flame without oxygen, and Mike deems the silence to be more cruel than anything else you’ve said to him tonight. He’s feeling everything and nothing all at once, the quiet crumbles around him like a burning building and he fears he’ll become rubble beneath the debris. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just… god, just–” His eyes flick to you, and then retreat back down to the faded living room carpet. He can’t swallow his guilt this time. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”
“It’s fine,” you say coldly, knuckling away an angry tear. The salt water is the trick of nostalgia, you’ve cried like this so many times. Your breakage of those promises to yourself. It’ll be different. And it never is. 
“No. It’s not – I’m a dick, I just… I hate watching other people ruin your life. You deserve better.”
Better. What is better? Some twisted fantasy that some people are indulged with and others are left longing for. That you’re left longing for. You know he’s tired of the same bullshit that you force yourself through, convincing yourself of change, painting yourself up to be fit for presentation, and hoping that whoever you’ve leeched onto likes what they see, so you don’t have to feel so alone anymore. You’re oblivious, painfully so. Because Mike could plaster together the cracks in your splintering psyche, if you’d just let him in. 
“Whatever, Mike. It’s true anyway.”
There’s a hole in his heart in the shape of your name. He begs you. Fill it. A part of him shatters at the defeat in your words — he’s crumbled you to the bone, to the marrow. He’ll build you back up. You deserve it. 
“No it isn't. No it isn’t. You have me. You’ll always have me.” 
A silence pervades; the look in his eyes is one of pleading, that you’ll stop and see what he’s offering you, that you’ll stop chasing your own tail, that you’ll stop the cycle. 
“Mike…”
“And Abby.”
You indulge him. 
“You have me. And you have Abby. And I know that’s… not much, but she loves you. So much. And I’m sorry, ‘cause I know I don’t say it enough, I don’t…. I don’t say how much you mean to me, but I just—”
“Mike.” 
He wallows in the waters of your rain kissed eyes, the way your pupils pulse and the words are falling before he can swallow them back down. 
“I love you.”
He gives you that stare. That stare that’s the color of black coffee, the look that you can feel, unearthing the graveyard of wilting feelings you’ve tried to bury, the heart that beats for him him him, lodged between the ivory bars of your ribcage. He maps you out with his eyes, he looks at you the way the sun hungers for daybreak. 
He’s waiting. He’d wait forever. 
“And… and seeing you with these… shitty people who don’t even care about you, it just…” He sighs exasperatedly, dragging a sweaty palm down his face. 
His sentences can’t seem to finish themselves. This is harder than it looks in the movies. Harder than when he’s practiced in the mirror, when Abby’s walked in and giggled at him and told him to just fess up. 
“You love me? Like…”
He looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “Yeah. I do.”
You’re beyond bewildered. He loves you. He loves you. 
“What– but… you—”
“You don’t have to… say anything. I just, I can’t… I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t do it.”
You reach for his hand. It’s a little clammy, a little trembly, but it’s a perfect fit. Just like you. 
“I love you too, Mike.”
What?
“You… do?”
He’s skeptical, but he’s also swooning. A stone man is slowly cracking. 
“I just didn’t… didn’t think I could have you. I mean, you’re so… you’re everything, y’know? You’re a good brother, and you work so hard, and you’re… I’m just… I don’t think I deserve you,” you whisper, confessing. With a newfound stroke of confidence, he approaches, one hand snaking around to the small of your back, another on your cheek. He’s gentle. In his eyes, you’re porcelain. Precious. Fragile. At least, at this moment. But you love him too and that’s all he needs. It’s all he’s ever needed. 
“You deserve everything.” He says it so quietly it’s barely audible. And then, nothing is audible because he’s carefully pulling your lips to his, linking you in every way, his hands tangle into your damp hair and he’s kissing you. 
His lips chase yours in messy, uncalculated movements. He’s starting small. It’s been a while. And he’s gonna take his time with you. He’s gonna show you what you deserve. Soft sounds squeak past his lips as they flutter against yours, and you’re closer and closer and closer still, impossibly so. 
Within moments he’s whisking you off to his bedroom, his hand tangled with yours, an interlace tight enough to cause ropeburn. His skin chafes with yours, and then he’s kissing you again atop his navy comforter. 
He’s gentle, respectful, but you understand what he’s trying to tell you, what he’s been trying to tell you. He speaks through silken drags of his tongue, through the hand that holds your cheek steady— he feels as though he’s gripping the very cusp of a constellation. You taste like stardust. You glow like the waning moon. 
He breathes heavily in the expanse of his throat, his pants have become tight and wet and filthy; he’s been subconsciously grinding down into your lap. You’re a little shaky and your pupils have darkened with lust and he is going to show you what you mean to him. What you’ve been missing. 
His hand falls lower, into the slope of torso that dips into your hips. His eyes travel back and forth, searching, hunting for the desire that he feels mirrored back at him. Do you want this, the way he does? Do you? His hardened stare doesn’t speak loud enough. He elaborates.
“Can I… uh… do you wanna…?”
Do you want to? You need to. 
“Shit, okay,” he croaks out, jaw tense and tight as he traces you beneath calloused fingers. You didn’t realize you said that out loud. 
He’s endearingly awkward – you know from languid late-night conversations that he hasn’t done this a lot. Maybe even at all. But he’s sweet, so sweet, like lapping up sugar and feeling it dissolve on your tongue, feeling him dissolve on your tongue, giving you comfort and cavities. 
“Can I take this off?” He asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of your camisole. A short nod, and he’s sliding it over your sweat-pricked figure, admiring your contours in the whisper of evening moonlight that bleeds through holes in his moth-eaten curtains. You’re perfect, and he knew you would be. 
He caresses your skin gently, drunk on the mellow feeling of your bare stomach beneath his fingertips. Your bra is black, a little lace peering along the straps, your breasts spilling into the fabric. He reaches around your back, fumbling at the clasp. When the garment drops, his hands are replacing it before you can even blink. 
“Beautiful,” he manages to get out, thumbing over your nipples. 
“Mngh, Mike—”
“Sh. Just let me… just let me. Let me make you feel good. Please?” He grunts out under his breathless voice, and how could you deny such a request?
The moment you agree, he’s grabbing you by the thighs and tugging you towards him slightly, so your back is nearly flat against his mattress and he’s settling himself in the gap that you create for him. 
Your skirt comes off first. Your panties are undeniably soused, his fingers trace the big wet spot that’s dripping all for him, teasing you through torturously thin cotton. 
“Mike,” you mewl gently, fingers settling in his nest of chocolate curls that are damp with sweat. A firm tweak and he’s groaning, his voice melting away into nothing like hot tar. 
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles to himself, like he’s never seen anything like it. Probably not in a while. His finger hooks beneath the waistband, pulls it out gently, and lets it go. It slaps against your hip bone and another fresh sound seeps from your lips.  
“Mike, shit, please just do something—”
“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than you, carefully sliding your panties from your waist, down past your ankles, and he’s tossing them to join the pile of clothes that has begun to collect on his bedroom floor. 
You’re here, before him. The girl he waited for. Your soft flesh is glistening, clenching painfully around nothing, and he’s salivating at the sight of you. He pries your legs out further with his warm hands, leaving them to linger on your bare flesh for a few drawn out moments, before he claims what’s rightfully his. 
He presses a trialing kiss to your clit, and your back curves delicately, fingers tightening their grasp in his hair. He moans into you at this action, and you, in turn, moan as well. Confidence creates itself in him with each little whimper that he gets you to release, and he’s answering back, hearing your cries, your calls of his name with his own unabashed exclamations of pleasure. This is just as good for him, as it is for you. 
“Mike,” you whine gently, and he’s mumbling weak praise right into your cunt. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanted this for so long.”
It’s barely audible between his languid sucks; he’s lapping at your drooling entrance, fingers subtly creeping closer, up and along your thighs and settling right above your throbbing clit. He presses his thumb against it, tracing sinful circles against your bud— once, twice, and then you’re far too close to the edge. 
“Oh, Mike I’m gonna come,” you choke out between gasps. 
“Do it. Please.”
He’s begging you. 
And you oblige. With a trembling sob, your thighs tense around his head, keeping him locked in place, capturing him and making sure he finishes the job, and oh does he plan to. When you soar, he’s still holding you in place, soothing the electric sparks pulsating throughout your body. 
He savors your sounds, and when they stop coming, he presses a lingering peck on your inner thigh, stubble scraping at the sensitive dermis. He then raises his face to your level, the light coruscating off the filthy souvenir etched all over his face, your glittering arousal that he wears so proudly. 
He steals a proper kiss from you, rubbing your side as a gentle comfort. He’s completely hard now, tenting his sweats, leaking against the fabric. You gingerly reach out, tracing what you assume to be the head of his cock, and he sags, boneless, against your touch. 
“Fuck, baby I—”
“Baby?” You chuckle softly, still hazed from the candy-coated afterglow of your orgasm. The first of many, he hopes. 
“Mngh— g… got a problem?” He grumbles softly, almost quivering as you begin to palm him with purpose.
“It’s out of character,” you tell him gently. 
“Shit, can I be inside you?” He asks you, voice ripped raw. 
And once again, Mike Schmidt leaves you breathless. 
“Yeah. I need it. I need you.”
He groans, slipping off his pants and boxers without so much as another word from your swollen lips. He’s hard, angrily so, his cock pulses violently and a little whimper escapes through the crack in his bitten lips when it slaps against his stomach. 
He’s stroking himself slowly, base to tip and then back again, collecting the pearls of precum that dribble from his slit. He’s never been so ready for something. For you. It’s all for you. 
He’s holding you, thumbing your hip bones and gently nudging himself into your hole, cooing at every cry that crawls from the crevices of your throat. When he bottoms out, finally, it’s safe to say that he gets a little dumb. “Oh, shit, I’m not— not gonna last long, you’re so tight, shit…” He’s rambling a little. It’s cute. 
A few wandering kisses land on you the way dandelion spores decorate a skyline – your cheek and your chin and your jaw, as he waits for you to let him move. You’re squeezing him for all he’s got and he’s three seconds away from spilling before he’s even so much as thrusted. You do this to him. 
All those days, staring into your eyes and wondering if you’d ever see him the way you do, all those nights, stroking your hair and softening your saddened sobs after failed date after failed date. They’re all worth it. 
You’re clamping down on him, warm and wet and wavering, and you’re exhaling softly through your nose and telling him to move, begging him to move, to make you feel good, and it’s what he does. 
He pumps into you with passion, magnetized to your every movement. He’s satisfying a decade worth of insatiable craving, he’s chasing your hips with his. You end where he begins. 
The headboard creaks and slams against thin plastered walls, one hand grips onto it with alabaster knuckles and the other one holds your hips for better leverage. He doesn’t need to say it, but each knocked kiss of his pelvis to yours is a silent I love you I love you I love you. 
“Oh my god Mike,” you sob, and he slides himself deeper, hitting everywhere he wants to reach. Everywhere to make you quiver beneath him.
“You d—don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he moans lowly. “How many times I’ve imagined you like— like this.”
He’s blabbering, every stray thought that passes through his head is already blossoming on his tongue and out into the air before he can even think twice. Admittedly, you’re too blissed out in your own mind to really respond, but it’s arousing all the same. 
“You’re so… so beautiful,” he’s flushed and he’s faltering, and you know he’s close before he even announces it. 
“Shit, baby, I can’t— can’t last much longer,” he stammers, his bruising pace beginning to shake. 
“Do it in me, Mike, please, please,” shit, are you trying to kill him? Your word is the only law he knows, and he’s wrapping his arms around your torso and diving his head in the elegant slope of your collarbone, biting down into the skin and spasming somewhere deep in your welcoming walls. 
He tries to keep himself quiet, but it’s really a futile effort. His hips jut sporadically as he empties himself inside you, and the sudden flood of subtle heat is all it takes for you to topple over as well. 
Bliss teeters back into reality after a seemingly ceaseless moment. He peels his head from its previous position to admire you, to stroke a stray lock of hair from your forehead and nervously greet it with a kiss.
He doesn’t let go of you. Not now, not ever, he thinks to himself. His arms snake around you tighter, and somehow it’s even more intimate after the fact. His bare chest collides with your back, his nose rests comfortably against the crown of your head. The pair of you follow each other into a dreamless sleep, safe in the sanctuary of a warm bed and an even warmer embrace. 
He’s found his new familiar. 
masterlist
✩‧₊
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vivisviolets · 20 days
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⛓ who is your tribe? 𓆩📓𓆪 𓆩🖤𓆪 how will you meet? ⛓
✮i love how i connected these 3 pics im sooo smart guys
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ -pick the image that gotchu good 👁👁 gotcha eyes~ you know how to do it I know you do- if you feel unclear, take a nice deep breath, connect with spirit/God/your higher self, and ask what messages would serve you in this very moment~ this has been your radio host vi-vi talkin🎙, and I'll catch at your pile~🖋️✮ ˖ ⋆
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⋆ ˖✮pile 1✮˖ ⋆
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⋆ ˖ ✮ ˖ ⋆
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ Five of Swords (reversed), Five of Wands (reversed), Ace of Wands, The Hierophant, Page of Cups (bottom of deck)
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ (slight 18+ cw) Libra/air placemnets, 7th house (Sun/Moon/Rising/Mercury/7h dominant etc), 1 house placements, Aries placements/degrees (Moon/Rising, etc), Nepo baby/“girl(boy/kid)-next-door” vibes, hair extentions, “going blonde”, Legally Blonde, angel numbers 1111, 222, 2424, 1234, channeled songs, Casual - Chappell Roan + How to be a Heartbreaker - MARINA
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ Hello my pile 1s!!!!! omg i wanted to jump right in but I feel the need to greet you into this becaussse- omg you are gorgeous- like I am being so fr DO NOT play yourself down I can hear the mind chatter of some of you gearing up at me saying that,-shut that shish down. on the other side of this group,- you already know you were born beautiful, raised beautiful, and have always been your own created beauty, you’re so tapped into that and really you always have- so I want everyone in this pile, to align to that energy rn. 👏R👏N👏. No matter your upbringing, whatever your family told you, your past friend groups, your classmates,- you don’t got to do or be someone else’s anything. you speak for yourselfff- and you always have!! no matter how deep your security periods were, you still radiated- radiance💎 and strength- damn you guys are strong, no matter how “submissive” some of yall feel to be (your vulnerability is divine btw and def a part of your strength)- you are strong af. strong in only a way the wind is (I mean think of how destructive that nature can be yet how soothing its flow is when it is calm) or a polished pillar… I JUST KEEP HEARING IT- YOU GUYS ARE BEAUTIFULLLL. ugh I gotta get into more dets for you- I’m hearing that some of you are blonde (natural/dyed/bleached it dont matter) and damn does it make you look like a star ☆- PLEASEEE YOU’RE A STARRR ♥️- sorry- it looks so good on you the more fair aura because that is definitely the color of your aura in social situations (I’m hearing pale lavender, blue, pink, yellow), I’m hearing you have very calming eyes.. something about the color of your eyes is very “even” in color, or you may know how to keep very even eye contact and that makes the color of your eyes stand out (anyyy eye color- I’m even seeing some of you may have a kind of heterochromia where you may have a dot of brown in your blue iris/other colors apply, etc), some of the people who you’ve kept such level eye contact with during conversation- they think they’d be able to see your eyes in a dark room they stand out so much…
oh my god pile 1 you are a star- moving forward I have to mention, some of you are very proud brunettes- as you fucking should be because oh my jesus that’s hot, your hot, you are a star ★, a superstar- I am not just saying that holy shit. I’m seeing you may stand out in your friend group or who you usually hang out with due to your coloring whatever that may mean (for example cus we’re on the topic of hair- you may be a blonde within a lot of brunettes, or vice versa- you may have brown eyes among a bunch of blue/green eyes, vice versa- you may be only one who tans, has lots of birth marks, wears their hair natural, etc etc),- now I’m hearing I should be giving random styling opinions/boosting- so if you have a y2k grunge aesthetic, or old hollywood glam style you look incredibleeee- don’t you fucking dare bring your body type into this- if you’re an apple body you look like literal heaven in a pair of low rise bedazzled jeans- long straight hair looks so good with your body shape, get wigs if you’ve been thinking about it- get braids if you’ve been wanting them- different color highlights is definitely a good idea (blonde, orange, blue, purple), tighter tops look so good on your body shape (lace up ones or ones with details/graphtics)- a clean sleek white dress would literally ☆shock☆ everyone in a room who knows you/your style (and ppl who don’t know you loll), nude makeup that matches the rest of your undertones, glossy press on nails, one piece of jewelry per type here and there,- some more gn/masc opinions I’m hearing are more shaped clothes, botton downs tucked in high rise straight down jeans/pants (showcase the shape of your shoulders and waist a bit moreee)- I’m hearing if you were to wear a brooch of somekind on your shirt pocket you’d drive someone “wild”-… I MEAN MAYBE THAT’LL JUST BE ME 💞💀- curls look so great on you also, like if you did a larger loose curl somewhere in the front of your hair- gel curls would also look hot on you- star accents of some kind (jewelry, belt charms, keychains, even tattoos),,, you are totally someone’s “pretty boy”/“pretty girl”/“pretty baby”… OH MY GOD THIS IS A RELATIONSHIPS/FRIENDSHIPS PAC WHERE WAS III-
so I was getting into it even in the energy check-in some of you may be coming from a place of past drama- yes I said past bc even if it's fresh it will be past, and in that it is already the past babe. so anyway- there is something.. romantic here- possibly, but really I’m hearing you are in admiration by a lot of eyes-… now I’m hearing “Kiss the Girl” from The Little Mermaid lol BAHHA oooohh~ you think your life is really mundane and so you’re hearing me say you have eyeballs on you like “… I leave my house once a week”- …bitch- your envioment means nothinggg and can change when you want it to fr. no matter your place this is your natural energy- I’m hearing your natural energy is being a socialite- and I mean you are meant to shine like a glittery star in various rooms- WITH YOUR GAL PALS!! this can even apply for going into a business/professional environment where you speak and interact with a lot of people and you are at the center of that- But anyway take it where it may apply. for some of you- you may do amazing in more queer centered places (clubs, awareness groups, or even drag shows in your area), places with a lot of creativity in relation to fashion (maybe even theater?) and makeup- for others here you should get out more in your school/college (gardening clubs or outdoor volunteer work would definitely benefit you), even if it’s just walking around your enviroment- wherever you walk you own, and you make yourself known…
I’m seriously feeling that so hard- AND SOME OF YOU DARE TO TURN A BLIND EYE TO YOUR OWN INNER SHINE. it's seriously beginning to bug me how you’re still staying in this insecure, bitter, fearful, energy, that is not yours but you continue to claim it!!! WTF. anyways, to those of you resonating with that- I’m being sooo fr, as soon as you kick those feelings to the curb (to be run over and killed 💅) and you fully allow yourself to bloom and allow the sun to shine on you- there will be buzzing. BUZZINGGGG🐝. put yourself out there and seriously just experiment with what it feels like to be with different social groups, don’t take it personally, expect nothing, just do it for your own self experimentation~ doesn’t that sound fun??? I'm getting the tingles just thinking about it~again with those spaces I talked about, no matter your feelings- wherever you walk you own. you belong because you know you belong in yourself. that’s your natural state and no matter how vicious some people were in seeing that in you, you still own that about you ☆ and it is your choice to use that divine gift given to you. please trust and believe when I say that once you step into that inner, pure, state of being- you will be divinely protected, any ◉ attacks are small potatoes and will be diced.
ANYWAYS WOOO- ummm all those spaces that I mentioned are fully open to you, and are definitely where you’ll meet your tribe- again, I’m seeing your “tribe” will more so be you being you and coming in and receiving a lot of admiration- people will just love to talk to you as soon as you come in (I’m seeing especially for the queer/fashion/creative group people coming up to you with armfuls of clothing joyfully wanting your opinion I loveee this for you)- I’m speaking about the future mainly to my more underdeveloped group of this pile, but let me jump into the future which is the place some of you are very much stepping into rn!!!- you’re having people crossing their legs in club booths to fit more people into your get to together- BAHHA- people want to be close to you, catch up, ask where you’ve been traveling to or what you’re wearing- and you’re finally soaking it all up and sitting so relaxed, your smile is dazzling and you’re taking a nice breath in and out as all of this healthily regulates your ego + your higher self.. this is honestly giving that if you weren’t the “queen bee” in your high school- you are now but in your 20s/30s/40s/etc!! and you’re handling it amazingly well, because you still choose to go home solo most nights still high and happy ♡ I love this for you. you also get asked to be the leader or placed as the head of a lot of different projects- it’s more so you oversee them and everyone works around you- the thing is, that you don’t let all this go to your head because you’ve already grounded your self-worth- and because of that attitude, people then want you around even more. when you come in, people want you in your group for the day/hour/20 minutes before another group wants you lol.
you’re fabulous ok? it’s more than fine to be that, it’s divine ♡! soo many people are going to feel like the moth to your flame, it’s already been destined to happen literally😵💫!!!! just keep a watch out for the ones taking too much from you or being up and down with their give-and-take from you, because you deserve someone/people around you who stay hot for you and fan your bright flame while enjoying its warmth (unless they need their own personal space- ppl are ppl, not npcs lol)… I guess I should just briefly state before I finish your reading- the chorus of Casual by Chappell Roan was replaying through your whole reading- I’m not saying this as a cop-out, you have people stopping and, in fact, falling to their knees when they’re in your energy. I see one or two people who are already a part of your larger group environment being very infatuated with you (and I’d definitely keep your eye on them and remain open to this possibility- for some of you this special someone is in your group setting is so pure in their affection towards you and could,, be the one. I'm dead serious about that- but also HEHHEHHEHE💞- oh how I love-love♡),- but I’m mainly seeing a lot of first dates for you guys as you continue to get out there, and that is far from a bad thing because- who wouldn’t want a change at even just one date with you??? (take rejection as non-personal ofc- ppl have free will- and stupidity) and also you get the chance to see how you adapt and interact with new people which is terrific for you!! mannn do I see you getting accepted and taken out by so many people, assholes included but also a lot of “gentlemen”/“babes” who will gladly treat you extremely well and or will be pulling all the charm and fun within them for you- even if they know it’s just one night with you… I’ll just say, you do attract people who want to serve you… on their knees definitely-
AND THAT IS WHERE I WILL LEAVE ITTTTT FOR NOWWW- I’m so so soooo happy to have had you all here todayyyy your life is seriously going to keep going up-up and away if you’ll just allow yourself to see that steady climb and trust it <3 I seriously love youuuu I almost don’t want you to leaveee just like how everyone else feels BAHHA- love you.~
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ “Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out is it casual now- two weeks and your mom invites me to her house in Long Beach is it casual now” - “it’s hard being casual when i’m on the phone talking down your sister”
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ "This is how to be a heartbreaker- boys they like a little danger" - "singing I lo-lo-love you"
⋆ ˖✮pile 2✮˖ ⋆
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⋆ ˖ ✮ ˖ ⋆
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ Ten of Pentacles (reversed), Ace of Pentacles, Nine of Cups, Queen of Cups, Six of Swords (reversed) (bottom of deck)
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ Aquarius/Gemini/Libra placements, Capricorn/earth placements, Mercury dominant, Saturn dominant, 2nd house placements black lace, black on black, cinnamon, The Spice Girls, The Cheeta Girls, H2O, 2000s nostalgia, high school reunions, ex-friendship rebirth, stand up, saturday night bars, life path number 11, angel numbers 1111, 1212, 1313, 1221, channeled songs, Party for One - Carly Rae Jepsen, Heat Waves - Glass Animals
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ You guys are funny- just gonna say it off the bat I’m feeling silly with you rn ngl BAHHAHHAhehe- ok um HI PILE 2S!! I shouldn’t yell- let me not yell- some of you are coming from pile 1,, heyyy pile 1s~ ouw~ ok ok, you smiling could light up a room, a house, a complex, a broken oven. AHAHAH- what beautiful teeth and lips you have there- pile 2s. I’m seeing, so many different teeth and lip shapes before you come for me- straight, crooked, vener-white, “needs-a-cleaning” off-white, upside down smiles, nonsymmetrical dimples, big lips, small lips, uneven lips, scarred lips- you get it, I don’t give a shit. when you smile and give that big cackle, chuckle, chortle- you do what you do with joy- and people believe in jesus. people believe that pigs really do have wings. people believe that the sun must shine from your ass. truly. I mean truly. I’m sitting here with my fingers together like- hm. yes. how do I write this all- with a straight face without being sardonic… sardonic? do you guys read? I think you read. now I’m hearing “you thought you ate that-“ that meme, I know that you know it- let me stop. for-… 5 minutes… so we would probably connect really well- which is why I am all over the place, because you are also all over the place (yes I am shading you. respectfully.) someone here does really good impressions, including animals… whatever that means…- BAHAH, you guys would do great in stand up of some kind, either that or you’re known as the funny co-worker. you guys have this range when it comes to your sense of humor, where it is either very dry, with the most composed pauses (when I manage to do that without bursting into your own laughter), and or you guys are so fast like- the editing of a youtube video fast with the jokes- and or a mixture of the two where you’re able to pull off very intricate jokes very quickly in the moment. and jeeze people find you so charming, even more so because of the way you look as well, it’s almost weirdly uncanny to some people how someone with the level of physical attractiveness that you carry (it’s so heavy and so much I know it’s so hard✨) and you then can pull off such- hilarity. and they're like- “…do they know they could be a model??? like- are they aware?? are they using this comedy because they don’t see that about themselves??”… it’s giving “i didn’t know women could be funny” (goes for nb/men too ofc)…
wow- kill them with a spoon 🥄- anyways WOW. so I think you may have, a lot of perceptions of you by people around you who haven’t known you for very long, mainly revolving around your looks- yes your looks. your modesty is attractive but it won’t fly in this courtroom👩‍⚖️- you are attractive in some way, or have an appearance that people definitely admire- but also scrutinize, or underestimate… you definitely get belittled. ok- that sucks- point them out to me?… yea I thought so they are so ew. I don’t care if that person is your mother, your father, or your co-workers who’ve been working at the place for 5 years longer than you- they are ew. anyone who puts you down due to their own pre-made perception of you is ew. ick even. yea, I’m seeing the issue here is not like most other piles I read for where it’s a growth journey with self and insecurity- no you’re good rn you’re like totally chilling. and I love that because I’m chill now, I’m dipping my tea bag up and down and sitting with you I’m so chill. but I had to look into anything going on because- drama, keeps you reading. so main issue I’m exposing is that there are people around you, in your space, a space you “have” to be in like work or even college classes I’m hearing- most people around you mind their own business, good on them, I love them- other people… they dress you up as something in their mind for their own- amusement?? or to feel a sense of having an eagle eye over “you”- and I say “you” in quotations because wtf- they do this… so as to spice up their own boring life? this is a weird form of admiration, because even if it’s a shitty thing to see you as, with them placing you so strongly in this box- they’ve placed you also on this pedestal… that’s probably why even with this obvious bullshit you’re still just chilling- because you know that if someone has built this all up to be who you are- it means you’re the best. and they’re the lowest. the end. anyway my back hurts- someone here likes podcasts, I’m seeing the The Broski Report podcast (broski nation✊) and also Murder, Mystery, & Makeup- again you guys really just chill, drink a bit of wine and entertain yourself.- so let me move onnn and see what transformations might be gearing up in your social life hun~
ok so it’s not “crickets” happening in your social life, not at all- but again you guys are just so, content and used to yourselves (this is my pile who talks to themselves in the mirror I see you)- when I asked yall if you felt lonely I literally drew a blank. and this is actually perfect because it’s seriously when you’re not looking/expecting and you're all good with what you have that you get given so much- so this is where I’m going to remind you all to actively meditate on keeping yourself open. don’t expect anything, just stay open and ponder what you’d like- and you’ll receive. that’s literally it. you’re in prime manifesting energy with how content and at peace you are in yourself- do you know how much you attract when you do that shit???? remain. open. and. aware. of anything that may happen, even if someone trips in front of you and you gain a brief interaction or someone asks you where to find extra office supplies and you show them the supply closet- see your abundance, allow it, remain without expectations. you are literally in the perfect energy for so much. You guys are definitely the type however to be really fine with only a few close friends you can have some fun with (and or have a nervous breakdown with) and some family… but I think this contentment you have with yourself, might have come from you feeling- misunderstood in your sense of humor or self-expression. I gotta say, you definitely handled that disappointment well, since instead of dulling yourself you just shine more inwardly for your own enjoyment and entertainment- and that’s wonderful! but I do gotta say- I know you can feel a bit, pent up. due to a lot of your big personality being fitted within you, and that’s fantastic truly- but also it has the same effect of being stuck in your house alone for one week too long. maybe that’s why you read when you can- you get to be in a very expansive and wide world that feels different from your own… oh god did I make you yearn???? oops I’m sorry. anyways!!
you’d really thrive in some environment that feels more- “widespread” I suppose, that doesn’t mean cracking yourself open to a room of strangers, I mean just sharing yourself- still from a place of your own entertainment- what I mean is that it’d be really healthy for you to find an outlet for the pent up jitters you get- find it online if you want to try that, try little baby steps, why not?- go on one-time dates just to release a bit of what you keep inside you- interact with random people sitting next to you at bars,- no attachments, just feel out what you feel when you let your inward personality, be more outward- on a lease 🐩. I’m hearing some of you may be a little fearful of attachment even, work that out- that doesn’t mean you’ll then sacrifice your peace, you’ll just gain a wider world for yourself by gaining new connections- and obviously, with the personality and personhood that you have- you can totally just pick and choose who gets to be a part of that world and your time! you owe nothing to anyone. do you have any actual clue how many people are out there, whose perception of you is not just what they observe, but what you actually are? and their perception of you actually helps you and is used to contribute to your happiness and peace??? yea. having actual friends is freaking great. and the more you simply open yourself up to that- while staying aware and choosing who you want- that is going to be the big door that’ll be opened to you- you’ll receive so many amazing experiences and will shift and broaden your world and the worlds of others, you’ll be like a big tree, growing it’s roots around other trees- isn’t that soooo cute??? ok I’m trying to see into the future details in regards to you finding your “tribe”- spirit is honestly wanting things to be vague, so as you can remain open without any expectations. kk? I mean what I mentioned with the earlier situations gives you the clues to follow if you so choose- just be youuuu. you have more opportunities than you realize and you got all the answers to what to do within you. trust me when I say you’ll be running down the street in weird clothes and pearls, scream laughing out of breath with two girls who love you… that’s for someone here and it also applies to everyone here~
okkk pile 2s, it was stimulating being with you I’m nearly sick❤️ BAHAH anyways, in regards to any avoidant/anxious-avoidant attachment issues, just remember that heartbreak sucks, but heartbreak always just makes you hotter, and funnier. you prove that- that outcome is very real every day you exist as yourself… OKKK love you byeee❤️♡
deadass as I channeled this song, I was questioning if it was correct- and I look up to see one of your angel numbers 1212 on the clock- and then again 1221 as I type this lolll
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ “Once upon a time I thought you wanted me was there no one else to kiss- was it all a dream I let myself believe, I’m not over this, but I’m trying” - “party for one, if you don’t care about me, I’ll just dance with myself, back on my beat- I’ll be the one, if you don’t care about me, making love to myself, back on my beat”
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ “Sometimes all I think about is you- late nights in the middle of June, heat waves been fakin’ me out, can’t make you happier now”
⋆ ˖✮pile 3✮˖ ⋆
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⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ Page of Swords (reversed), Seven of Cups, Six of Cups (reversed), The High Priestess (reversed), The Moon (bottom of deck)
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ Cancer/Pisces/Scorpio placements, Libra/air placements, Leo/fire Placements, 5th house placements (Venus, Mars, Jupitar, Rising, etc), inner child, old friendships, childhood renewal, 1111, 333, 444, Only Yesterday (1991), horses, channeled songs, Wildflowers and Wild Horses - Lainey Wilson, Cheap Queen - King Princess
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ Ok- Hi my pile 3s! and also my pile 2s because some of yall did not leave yet and have stayed for the next reading- like seriously this whole pac is connected rn- also happy 1111 as I write this!!! um oh my gosh let me start- you are so beautiful, yes I said it for the 3rd time in this pac post why are you on my ass‼️- its so true, you all have this classic beauty, it is timeless- you are timeless- or from a different time in your aura, your beauty, how you carry yourself in this world- etc etc… and when I say “different time” I don’t just mean you embody this feminine/masculine balance straight out of the 1970s, 40s, 50s, 20s,- and all the other time periods before/after I just mentioned- I also mean you still carry with you the time you had as a young child, you carry with you the sunshine you felt on your skin when you were 3-6 yo, and the snow you felt on your hands when you were 8-11… you have kept this purity and innocence and grown with it- and holy cow do I need to congratulate you and the strength of your spirit- so often we are forced to “leave behind” our childhood years and perspective due to difficult events or what people expect of you while you reside in this worldly- world. -which really that just means internalizing and hiding away in the closet the purest state of yourself (*also this is my more queer-centric pile so hellooo my fellow queer community ✨☀️)- this is putting a hole in my own heart being in how free and high spirited you are, and how you fully embody that and always have ☀️. you have kept that warmed and soaked up the same sunshine as you did all those years ago- it might not even feel like years to you, it feels like only yesterday your childhood was your state of being and all around you- and now, you are a bit bigger but you may live in this state that no time has passed- does that make sense?? ugh dude I hope so, your energy is like the sunshine, in that, I can’t reach out and physically be in your presence- but more so I’m trying to sit in your light while my vision gets spotty and I get a little dizzy… as in- you guys are out of this worlddd💫!!! you might even be told by your family or your peers that you tend to make them “dizzy” with how you communicate- you may be the type to jump from one topic to another, while you fold your laundry- and tidy your desk drawers- and walk into another room *backward* because you are still talking and describing a detail that is “important” to the story you were recounting 10 minutes ago- you sweet thing!!!! this is adorable to be in,, if anyone’s ever made you feel bad about how you communicate, do not take it personally- its always good karma to be considerate of other’s sensitivities, but everything you do is so pure hearted- it would be so phony and ridiculous to believe any crap people say about you to be truthful. your energy is so pure and truly yours, this is your sign and confirmation to continue to not live for the external views of others and live life through your own view ☀️. Oh- i keep getting horse imagery- horses may be significant for some of you, it may be your spirit animal or a spirit guide that is close to you may take the energetic appearance of a horse (in particular for some of you it’s a very strong and matured brown colored horse of some breed), or some of you grew up around horses in some way!
Oh this is random but you may be the type to enjoy having your playlists on shuffle lol- because I just suddenly began mentally playing Cheap Queen by King Princess- so this is definitely where I will now channel the dets about your social environment my dear~!! ok sooo- I’m seeing various different types of family dymanics, big families, med sized families, even 2 person families (you + a guardian)- I sense that you have close family ties, and i know family can be complex, so let me state some variouions of what that means- you may have a close familiarity to your family’s home or yard (maybe even your neighborhood area), such as knowing every little creak that your house makes when you go to the kitchen to get a morning cup of water, I’m seeing for some of you- you are very tied to your sibling dymamic if you have siblings (I accidently wrote in all caps at first and I scared myself lol- so you may come from a family where loudness is common part of the jokes you share), or maybe even kids you knew in your neighborhood if you played with them often- things like that have stuck with you inrelation to what you look for in anykind of companionship, a sense of familiarity~ this is def the pile who believes in being drawn to your soulmate(s) or past life connections lol~ so while you have that grounded energy in wanting stablity, you also are an entertainer and you know how to have a good time!! as you should since you totally fly like a fabulous canary from room to room- you should feel more confident when you dance btw, put more energy into your shoulders with joy because the way you move literally energizes people-
now I’m getting messages on how you connect to your inner child, I’ve said before you already naturally embody your inner child (“just in a bigger body” I’m hearing- some of you may have had a big physical growth spirut as a child btw), but some messages in regards to connecting to your inner child for those of you who need some answers is to engage in more activities that return yourself to a past peaceful enviroment, this is also for those who had a more chaotic upbringing and had to turn inwardly for peace ❤️- taste is a really important sense for you returning to that younger state of peace, so certain candies (I’m hearing those fruit rollups I love those still) or fruits, snacks- simple dishes that made younger you excited and brought you joy- also I’m hearing something about sleepovers and evening activities/coziness~ so grab some blankets and make an event of staying up late if you already do that lol- anyways!! let me get back to how fun you truly are to be around my dear, I mean, seriously! If you have the opportunity go out when you can, if you already have a friend or someone familiar go to a house party nearby (keep yourselves safe!), try rollerskating if you haven’t, and get closer to someone you already know and show your colors- DRESS UP!!!! I know life can be bleak especially when you feel that life is very "closed off" and dead lol- but when I tell you the phrase “dress for the life you want”- I mean ittt~ it will align you with the environment that you desire and it will come to you so naturally (in the same way you making a coffee and taking your dog for a walk is a natural occurrence in your life!)- I’m hearing that the connections that you already have in your life are “all you need”, and by that I mean you can build off of those and shoot farther into the sky full of stars meant for you 💫. I’m hearing the quote about drawing back your arrow before you can shoot forward- if you’re feeling stuck right now, this is what I’m trying to tell you, blossom exactly where you are right now, and everything else will simply follow!!! and I know that takes courage but I KNOW you have it because it was child you’s courage that got you to this future you are currently in~ and when you start to embody their courage along with their light, I know it will be the turning point to creating the life you were always dreaming and painting in your mind~ I’m seeing bright neon lights, holding hands and toothy-laughing grins, your clothes looking exactly how you pictured months ago- this is what I see happening in the future!! please stay open to some of the connections you already have- renew them is what I’m hearing (but please follow your intuition, if you need to cut everyone except for one or two true connections then that is the right thing for you to do)- if these are people who you knew when you were a lot younger then bond on the older times and use that energy to renew into more new memories,- these older connections you have you could definitely collaborate with to mutually make new connections and go towards new experiences- I’m hearing maybe even to “get out of this town”... phew pile 3!!!! what a way to end this pac, so happy to have met you and I feel like I took a nap in the sun- I’m really on some hazy ish rn lolll but I really hope I was helpful in any questions or worries on your beautiful mind~ I LOVE YOUUU so much, you better keep on shining- even if that’s just in front of your mirror, that’s perfect and valid ☀️👏
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ “I'm five generations of blazin' a trail- through barb-wired valleys and overgrown dells- I'm barefoot and bareback and born tough as nails” - “I push like a daisy through old sidewalk cracks” - “yeah, my kinda crazy's still runnin' its courses with wildflowers and wild horses”
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️ “I've been alright, I’ve just been doing the same shit I've always liked- like smoking and movies and homies who bring me wine” - “-all of my girls get up early and stay out late- they drive all the way to the west side to see my face- that's good love- and I ain't no big baller when it's fake friends you're callin’”
⋆ ˖
⋆ ˖ ✮🖋️am I actually going to (*schedule to*) post this omg it feels like forever since i did this.. where was i even? whatever- its whatever- holy shit I'm putting myself out there!!!! praise be!!!! omg I'm going to get one extra hour of sleep as a treat🍰
love, vi~♡
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megistusdiary · 2 months
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i have a vision i need you guys to see.
2000s!arle who's looking to get some sleeve fillers. her bandmate, tartaglia, recommends her to try this new shop. he told her the artist is "insanely talented," so she figures, why not?
(longer post/nsfw utc - tw smaller reader, transfem arle mentions)
when she walks in, she sees you sitting on the counter, legs swinging as you greet her.
"hey, welcome in. what can i help you with?" she watches you hop down off the counter, now having to look down at you given your shorter stature.
you don't look like you have many tattoos at all, funny enough. doesn't look like you really belong in a place like this, but she thinks you're a pretty cute counter-girl.
"i'm looking to get some sleeve fillers, sweetheart." she leans down over you, a hand on the wall by your head.
"go figure." you snort and she's a little taken aback.
"you're a little fiesty thing, huh?" she asks and you tilt your head. she cuts you off, waving her hand. "anyways, i'm thinking of adding onto my sleeve." she rolls up her shirt, flexing her bicep for you.
"do you have anything specific you want?"
"i have some ideas." she shrugs, leaning back to her full height with a smug little grin. "so, there an artist back there?" she gestures to the back of the shop.
"actually-"
once again, she cuts you off. "my friend said-" she takes her phone out, flipping the lid open and showing tartaglia's message with the artist's name on it. "she works here. you know her?"
you blink at the phone being shoved in your face, but you laugh anyway. "oh, really? you're looking for her?"
"yeah, what about it? is she shitty or something?" she doesn't seem to notice your half-annoyed eyeroll.
"nothing. i'll go set you up in the room." you tug her along, grabbing the consent forms and other things she'll need to fill out. "here, fill these out." you sit her in the chair, handing her the clipboard.
"aw, won't you stay with me? i get nervous when the ink comes out." she sends you an almost sleazy grin.
"oh, i'd love to, but i can't." you feign a pout. "gotta go get the artist." you grin and escape the room quickly, leaving her to her own devices.
she fills the papers out easily, having done so before many times.
she hears the door click, seeing a taller woman covered in tattoos walking in and setting up. she collects the paperwork from arlecchino, checking through it.
"cool, the artist will be in shortly."
arlecchino tilts her head. "it's not you?"
the woman arched an eyebrow, shrugging, closing the door again and leaving arlecchino in silence.
she looks around the room, hearing the door click open after a few minutes. "finally-" she turns around to see-
you?
she stiffens in the chair. "you're joking, right?" she asks with a laugh.
"what's the problem?" you scoff, sitting down on the chair next to the tattoo bed. "you don't trust me?"
"you don't have a speck of ink anywhere on you. how exactly am i supposed to trust you?"
"your friend seemed to think i was 'insanely talented,' right? do you trust him?" you counter and she bites the inside of her cheek.
she stays quiet while you set up, showing her some of your designs, which she picks from to fill in her sleeve.
she sits still the entire time, feeling your gloved hand on her skin. you look small next to her, cute, she thinks, and-
"stop staring at me." you cut her thoughts off without even looking away from her arm.
"can't help it, sweetheart." she quickly covers and you sigh. she grins mischievously up at you.
you set your gun down, grabbing her jaw and tugging her up to meet your gaze. "don't call me that. watch your mouth." you suddenly snap, your cute little aura gone, replaced by something darker.
it only makes her breath hitch, feeling your fingers on her jaw. "oh, little kitty has claws." she taunts and you scoff, leaning in.
your lips graze the shell of her ear and she shivers. "don't talk to me that way, or i swear, i'll have you on your fucking knees begging me for forgiveness." you mutter.
she isn't sure if it's a real threat, but the change in your tone is enough to have her nodding regardless. her mind is filled with thoughts of you, riding her, a hand on her throat as you control the pace.
you see her hardening beneath her jeans and you arch an eyebrow. "you're pretty pathetic for a flirt." you snap.
and she swears she could cum right then and there from just your gaze.
too bad you go right back to tattooing with everything re-sterilized.
damn.
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ellecdc · 3 months
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A Man With a Plan.6
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
CW: swearing, mostly fluff, funny moments with friends, no plot just vibes [crystal dialogue prompt courtesy of keke the unstablereader 🫶]
Though Remus was undoubtedly relieved that you a) knew of his affliction, and b) forgave him for his arseholery, he was admittedly a little more than slightly disappointed that very little had changed between the two of you.
Which made no sense on account of the fact that he never planned on anything changing between the two of you to begin with; he was discontent, nevertheless. 
“Oh, good, Y/N’s here. Listen, how the hell do I stop the nargles from stealing my things?” James shouted as you approached the table. You looked like you had perhaps only been prepared to say hello and carry on, to which James was having none of it and nearly bodily forced you onto the bench next to him. 
“Hello, Jamie. Do you have your cranberry seed oil infused corks?” You asked as you obediently took your seat.
James scoffed and pulled out a lanyard from under his uniform which, lo and behold, had a cork attached to it smelling very much like cranberry seed oil. “I literally never go anywhere without it.” He said as if you had asked a particularly ridiculous question.
You hummed and Remus watched a divot appear between your eyebrows as you scrutinized what Remus assumed was James’ aura or some other such entity. “Well, I don’t see any around you, James. What makes you think you have a nargle problem?”
James groaned dejectedly and turned back towards his lunch. “All of my things are missing! It started around the time you went missing.” James stressed, still not having completely forgiven you for your disappearance at the last full moon. “It was my school tie, and some socks, a quill set my mom got me at the start of school, and now I can’t find my herbology textbook!”
You hummed again and seemed to look around the table as if you’d somehow find his belongings there. “Perhaps you should ask your friend Peter.”
Remus heard Peter choke on his pumpkin juice as James, Sirius, and Remus all turned to look at him. 
“Uh...haha, so, funny thing...” He started, cut off by an indignant squawk from James.
“You were stealing my stuff!? Why!?” He cried.
Peter’s cheeks pinked though a pleased smile graced his lips. “You were so worried about Y/N being missing and the nargles taking your things. I thought a funny prank would lighten the mood; I wouldn’t get a chance like that again!” He defended himself. 
“You are so dead.” James muttered as Peter (wisely) took off out of the Great Hall with James hot on his heels.
“Alright Y/N.” Sirius started, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “You’ve gotta tell me; how’d you know it was Petey boy?”
A shy sort of pride painted your features and Remus thought it was the most beautiful you ever looked. “Wrackspurts.”
Sirius’ smile fell slightly, but the amusement never left his eyes. “Wrackspurts?” 
You nodded in agreement. “Mhm. His head was full of them.” You said simply as you took a piece of cut strawberry from James’ abandoned plate and popped it in your mouth.
Sirius nodded with a look on his face that seemed to say ‘fair enough’. “And how’d you know about this one?” He asked, motioning towards Remus with his head.
“About his affliction, or about his soulmate bond?” You asked as if you were simply talking about the weather.
Sirius cocked his head as he considered you. “Both.”
“His aura...or I suppose Moony’s aura.”
Remus felt his eyebrows recede into his hair line. “Moony has an aura?” He asked you.
You nodded in the affirmative. “I’m assuming you’re right-handed?”
Remus nodded numbly.
“Most of the lunar cycle, Moony’s aura sits around your left shoulder. As the cycle moves closer to the full, he resides on your right. Also, sometimes when I’m near, he tries to come closer. Would you say that’s true?” Your serene tone did nothing to calm the racing of his heart.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Sirius said, interrupting Remus’ internal struggle. “There really was nothing you could do to hide from this witch, huh Moons?”
Remus chuckled self-deprecatingly and looked down into his lap in a little bit of shame. Your smile never faltered, however. 
Peter and James returned then; James with a self-satisfied grin on his face, and Peter with his hair, shirt collar, and tie in disarray. 
“What’s so funny?” James asked as he sat beside you, smacking a platonic kiss to your cheek as he winked over at Lily from her spot further down the table, whose face turned a shade of red rivaling her hair at having been caught watching James.
“Remus and his last two braincells trying to keep Y/N away from him.” Sirius snickered. Remus kicked at him under the table which caused you to jump. He apparently had missed his mark and had kicked your shin by accident. 
“Fuckin’ hells, dove. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh my gods...” 
Sirius barked another laugh as Peter whispered a quiet ‘dove?’
“Oi! You really have lost your gobstones! Can’t believe Moony’s the dumbest one out of all of us now.” James said as he checked your shin for injury under the table. 
“Remus isn’t dumb.” You defended the dumb bastard. 
“Well, you can’t say he’s very smart here, dollface.” Sirius conceded.
You hummed and shooed James away from your leg. “Wisdom was chasing him; Remus was just always faster.” 
This time, poor Pete lost his pumpkin juice completely as he sputtered mid-sip. You didn’t even seem to realize you’d said something particularly funny (or devastating) as James nearly fell off the bench in a fit of laughter and Sirius pulled you into his side.
“Oh, for the love of Merlin. Remus, please, can we keep her!?” He said in between bouts of laughter, wiping away a mirthful tear from under his eye.
Remus had no objections. 
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What Remus hadn’t agreed to was this.
Remus understood that allowing Moony (and...himself) to keep you around meant that he would ultimately have to share you. He knew that he’d have to share you with James, he’d have to (rather unfortunately) share you with Regulus, he’d have to share you with Pete and Sirius who seemed just as enamored with you, and he’d likely eventually have to share you with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and the rest of his friend group.
He was however not in the slightest prepared to have to share you with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior. 
Remus had, quite happily, found you studying in the library alone and asked politely if he could join you at your table. The two of you had been studying in companionable silence when Regulus showed up. No matter, Regulus was quiet and diligent in his schoolwork. 
Then, Sirius had shown up perturbed that his baby brother and his best mate were hanging out (to which both Regulus and Remus vehemently denied, seeing as they were both here studying with you, not each other), and insisted he be involved. Though Sirius struggled with the whole sitting-still-and-quietly thing, he more or less managed to join the three of you without much fuss.
But then James showed up, which sparked a long and arduous debate between he and Regulus regarding which entity was worse – wrackspurts or nargles – to which you weren’t even a part of save for each of them calling to you in need of an explanation every so often. You would look up from your book and answer them politely before returning to your schoolwork as if you weren’t surrounded by complete idiots. 
Remus was lovestruck. 
And then Barty showed up.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Crouch screeched as he ran through the library completely ignoring the shushing from other students and string of curse words following him from the crotchety librarian. 
“Hello, Bartemus.” You greeted the banshee serenely.
“Quickly, darling.” He started before promptly dumping a large sack of tumbled rocks and gems in front of you. 
“Where’d you get all of these?” Regulus asked incredulously, reaching to pluck a small stone that had rolled over to his open book.
“Never you mind that!” Barty shouted as he swatted his hand away. “Y/N - light of my life, apple of my eye - which of these crystals will help me piss of my dad the most?!”
Once again appearing completely unperturbed by the general chaos around you, you perused the crystals set before you. 
“Well, Carnelian can invoke passion.” You said as you plucked a red stone from the pile. “Garnet can invoke intense emotions: jealousy, anger, fear. I recommend pairing it with gold – maybe place it in a gold setting for a necklace or something similar. Dravite will bring up unresolved emotions...” And soon, two red stones and a brown stone sat in your palm as you held them before Barty. 
“Pfft, figures.” Barty grumbled. “Red and gold never fail to piss me off either.” He sneered, looking pointedly at the three Gryffindor’s seated at your table. Remus was not necessarily proud of the low growl that the comment elicited from him, but he was proud of the restraint he showed when Moony was screaming in his head to tear the fuckers head clean off his scrawny body. 
“Bartemus.” You chided gently, looking up at Barty standing above you like a parent might look at a particularly troublesome child: full of love.
Remus hated it. 
“Sorry my sweets.” Barty cooed at you and ran a finger along your cheekbone. 
Remus hated that more. 
“Mr. Crouch!” The librarian called, finally having caught up to her problem student.
“Well, I must be off.” Barty called casually as if it was completely of his own volition that he now vacate the premises. “Keep the rest, beautiful angel face. Much love!” 
And he was gone. 
Thank Merlin. 
“The friends you keep.” James muttered as he shook his head in disappointment as if he wasn’t one of said friends you keep.
“Oh, Bartemus is not so bad. Perhaps just a little misunderstood, and a little more than maniacal.” You put simply. 
James was shushed loudly by the librarian for his laughter.
“I’ll go check on him.” Regulus said as he stood. He barely spared the Gryffindors a glance as he nodded politely at you. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”
“Goodbye Regulus.” You sang to him, smiling brightly like he had just been anything more than sort of polite to you.
Remus once again figured that was as much affection as Regulus could ever show. 
“You boys are welcome to help yourselves to the crystals. It’s a wonderful idea to take the ones that speak most to you.”
James exclaimed gleefully as he started to browse the many stones in front of you. Sirius’ face piqued in interest as he quickly plucked the most sparkly stone on the table.
“Jamie, you should bring this one to Lily.” You said as you handed him a small, slightly translucent pink stone. James didn’t bother asking questions such as ‘why?’ or ‘what is it?’ or even ‘should I be worried?’ before he accepted it, punctuating his ‘thanks angel’ with a kiss to your hair before he was racing out of the library.
“What stone was that?” Remus asked, unable to quell his curiosity.
“Rose quartz.” You responded simply.
“What’s it do?” Sirius asked.
Your mouth quirked in thought. “Stones don’t really do anything. They just encourage what’s already possible.”
Sirius rolled his eyes earning him a defensive kick in the shin from Remus. 
“What does rose quartz encourage, dove?” Remus placated.
“Love and affection.”
Remus nodded and watched as Sirius pocketed two more shiny and sparkly stones before his expression was painted with mischief. “Say, Y/N. What crystals should our dear Moony here have?”
Remus couldn’t even bother shooting his mate an unimpressed glare when your face picked up excitedly and you began sifting through the stones. He watched just as animatedly. 
After a few moments, you proudly displayed a small palmful of stones. 
Remus placed his hand palm up beside your much smaller one and relished in the intimacy of you gently transferring the stones into his palm; your hands gently brushing in the action.
“What are those stones?” Sirius asked curiously.
Remus swore some bashfulness painted your features as you pointed the stones out in Remus’ palm. He was thankful for the continued contact as you explained them all. 
“This is amethyst, which supports calmness; rids the mind of negative thoughts, and promotes dreamless and restful sleep.” You explained, causing Remus to nod his head. That could be helpful.“This is obsidian which helps one process their emotions.” That one earned a snort of laughter from Sirius. “Jasper is supposed to provide support during stressful times. This is moonstone which...well...I suppose that’s self-explanatory.” 
Remus hummed but couldn’t help but notice you failed to discuss the last stone sitting in his palm. He wasn’t going to push it, however.
“And the pink one?” Sirius asked sharing no such qualms, lips quirked in a smirk and eyes full of mirth. 
You cleared your throat awkwardly, clearly feeling slightly self-conscious, but explained it nonetheless. “Rose quartz to encourage love and trust.” 
Remus would usually consider himself a generally skeptical person: but you may have just converted him.
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mediumgayitalian · 3 months
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prev
———
Twenty minutes later, Solace hurries out of his cabin in cowboy boots.
And jeans.
Nico gapes at him.
“Go go go go go, questions later,” Will hisses, herding him behind the Apollo cabin. “We are on a time limit, we gotta —”
“You’re wearing close-toed shoes.”
“Yes, yes, sometimes I wear the clothes that I own. Wild. Let’s go.” Will tugs, uselessly, on his arm, but Nico’s half-certain his jaw has taken root in the ground, cementing him in place, because what the actual shit.
“Solace, you wore flip-flops to the snow-smothered bus stop in January. I thought you had, like, a condition!”
“I do have a condition. It’s called You Are Not Hurrying, Death Breath, let’s go —”
This time when he pulls, Nico stumbles after him, ducking under windowsills and inching around flower gardens. Every time someone so much as looks in their direction, Will plants both hands on his chest and shoves them into a corner somewhere, craning his neck to watch until they move on. Every time he does, another piece of Nico’s soul breaks away from his body and descends into hell. There is an actual trail of bones and tilled earth and dead grass behind him. Will doesn’t need to worry about being stealthy — the death aura of Nico’s dignity is large enough to scare off anything within a four mile radius.
“In here!”
Undeterred by the death aura, for some reason, Will seizes his bicep and shoves him in a crack between the Hypnos and Dionysus cabins. He slips in a millisecond later, crowding him against the warm bricks, forearm pressed awkwardly next to Nico’s head.
“Hnggh,” Nico gasps, mournfully wishing his last sliver of self-respect goodbye. Rest in fucking peace. “Do you have to be so — close, Will, gods —”
“Shhh!”
“If you shush me again I am going to rip your throat out —”
“Go, go, go!”
Yanked forward again, Nico doesn’t have the time to finish his threat. This time, at least, they sprint the final stretch to the shed without any more hiding and shoving.
Thank all the fucking gods. One more second of Will’s stupid torso — since fucking when does he wear polo shirts, huh, what the shit fuck is up with that — pressed against his and Nico’s bronchitis was going to come back. And this time he’s going to succumb to it.
“Okay,” Will says. He stands in front of a tarp-covered lump, gripping one side and jutting his chin out at the other. “On three, we tear this off and start pushing. We need past Thalia’s tree in under thirty seconds. Got it?”
“No,” Nico says stubbornly, “you still haven’t explained what the rush is —”
“One two three go!”
Will, unfortunately, has been tricking ADHD teenagers into doing things they don’t want to do for years, so Nico’s ripping off the tarp and shoving the chariot out of its stall faster than he can register what he’s doing. He practically sprints to keep up with Will, chariot wheels creaking happily as they rush over stones and sticks and forgotten weapons.
“We’re leaving now, Chiron! Bye!” Will hollers, moving too fast to give him a second to respond. Luckily, Chiron is similarly busy, galloping after a speeding Harley without more than a backwards wave and a sharp don’t die, please!
“That dynamite I gave Harley’ll only keep everyone distracted another thirty seconds,” Will mutters, ignoring Nico’s alarmed the fucking what you gave Harley, “so we need to move, let’s go.”
“Will — slow down a half fucking second, Christ, not everyone is seventy percent leg — we don’t even have pegasi!”
“Will you keep it down.” Will looks back and forth, eyes wide, like he’s worried someone is going to pop up with a pack of the winged animals. “Just — stop asking questions! We’re almost home free!”
“You’ve gone insane. It’s finally, actually happened, after all these years, who woulda thought, fully bonkers at age sixteen —”
“Oh, shut up.”
Muttering his complaints, Nico helps him push the infernal chariot down Half-Blood Hill. Among his grievances, he makes it abundantly clear that 1) this is stupid, 2) he did not agree to physical labour, 3) he would not have agreed to come if he had known about the physical labour, and 4) this is stupid.
“Just a few more yards, then we can —”
“Okay, no, that’s it.” Nico lets go of the chariot, letting the wheel dig into the soft ground and send the whole thing halting. He meets Will’s pout head-on; arms crossed, jaw set, foot tapping, refusing to give into those big blue eyes.
“C’mon, Neeks.” A faint explosion sounds off in the distance. Will’s eyes get more pleading, more hopeful. “We won’t have much time after the diversion wears off…”
“You have three seconds before I turn the hell around, Solace.”
“Please?”
“One.”
He pushes uselessly at the chariot. It spins a sad little circle without someone pushing the other side. “Neeks!”
“Two.”
“Alright, fine! Help me push again and I’ll explain on the way down.”
“Much easier when you just do as I say,” Nico grumbles, starting to push the stupid (horseless and therefore useless) chariot again. “Isn’t it?”
Will, predictably, rolls his eyes, although he can’t quite help the smile that pulls at his lips. Nico tells the butterflies that go buck fucking wild in his stomach to go to hell. This does nothing.
“How much do you know about the chariot?” Will asks eventually, after a couple minutes of shoving the stupid thing past a deep trench in the soil, leftover from the war. (Nico is going to set the fucking thing on fire. It’s a flying chariot — shouldn’t it be lightweight? Why is he suffering?) They’re nearly three quarters down the hill, and it takes everything Nico has not to risk it all and shadow travel the last couple dozen feet. Yeah, it might kill him, but then his problem would immediately go away. Tempting does not begin to cover it.
“Uh, big source of drama, right? Apollo and Ares worked together to seize it, argued over who got to keep it?”
He cuts a careful glance over to Will, well aware it’s a sensitive topic. He knows the question isn’t a trap — Will would never do that to him — but it’s probably best to tread lightly. As far as he’s concerned, this is a sore point that’ll take more than a couple years to heal.
Luckily, there’s no tension to Will’s face. “Mhm. I wasn’t there for much of the planning, ‘cause I was busy in the infirmary and also, like, twelve, but it took a lot of time on both sides. When Michael and everyone seized it, though, it glowed gold.”
“…Ah.”
Will snorts at his awkwardness, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure made it hard for the Ares cabin to claim, as dicey as it may be. Here, help me park it on the side of the road.”
There’s a thatch of weeds and undergrowth separating the road from the base of the hill, so dragging the chariot over is a struggle and a half. Nico can’t help but think that this task would be very easy if the chariot was harnessed to a couple pegasi and flying over the fucking thatch, as it is meant to do. When he voices this very valid thought, Will does not respond.
He does walk into a thistle, though, so Nico feels considerably better about the whole ordeal.
“The thing about the blessing —” Will grunts, yanking the chariot onto the gravel shoulder with one final tug — “is that it’s not that big of a deal. My dad blesses shit all the time. Our cabin is blessed. The infirmary is blessed. Hell, half my scalpels are blessed, and I throw those things out all the time ‘cause they’re dangerous when they get dull. Just because my dad blessed it doesn’t mean we actually have to keep it.”
“Okay…” Nico says slowly, “then why was it such a big deal?”
“The blessing on its own wasn’t.” Will’s voice gets fainter as he lowers himself onto the pavement, dragging himself under the belly of the chariot. Nico is confused for a full three seconds before a particularly rough patch of asphalt snags Will’s shirt and drags, and wow, are those jeans low rise. His throat is suddenly very dry. “Blessing a chariot on the other hand…”
Will makes a dorky little noise of success, crawling back from under the chariot. When he resurfaces, he’s grinning, carved piece of wood the same material as the chariot clenched in his hand. There’s soot smeared across his left cheek, his curls have tangled themselves into more of a mess than usual, and there are three separate scuff marks on his nice jeans.
Nico ducks his head, hiding a smile. What a dorky loser. Even dressed up as he is (boy, has Nico fallen low, if he’s calling jeans and cowboy boots dressed up), he still manages to look like…Will.
A really, really hot version of Will, but. Whatever. Details.
“The hell is that?”
“This,” Will says grandly, feeling around the wall of the chariot until he finds a specific spot, “is the reason my brother gave a fuck about a dumbass chariot.” He sticks the edge of the wooden tool in a tiny groove, wedging it open to reveal a hidden panel and a small, golden button. Nico meets Will’s grin with raised eyebrows, impressed.
“What do you know about Michael?”
“Uh, not too much.”
“You think he, in any reality, would have had that much interest in a hunk of wood?”
Nico had scarcely met him more than a couple times, but Michael Yew made an impression, that was for sure. For someone who was shorter than Nico when he was ten years old, he sure took up a lot of space. In the few times Nico remembers seeing him, he’d been concerned with his bow, his camera, or showing any given person who so much as blinked at him wrong just how quickly he could turn their ass concave. If Nico is correct, actually, the one time he and a pegasus had been in the same vicinity, they’d hissed at each other. Nico didn’t even know pegasi could hiss.
He tries to find a delicate way to say this.
“He seemed more interested in other endeavours,” he says politely.
Will laughs loudly. “He would rather shove an arrow in his eye than race a chariot!” His bright smile is impossible not to match, and Nico is relieved to find him totally comfortable, relaxed; hell, even excited. Usually, any talk of his siblings, even fond, makes him quiet. He’s glad for this change, however unusual. “Man, I loved my brother more than anything, but he was the most ornery motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life. He taught me every swear in every language by the time I was nine, just because he knew it would drive Lee batty. He didn’t care about some spoil of war.”
He smirks, wide and devilish, and Nico’s knees go weak. Dimples like that should be illegal.
“He was smart, though. And he figured, if dad’s blessing made this chariot anything like his own…”
He reaches out and presses the golden button with his thumb, letting go and standing back once he registers a faint click. After a couple seconds, the chariot begins to glow, soft at first, then brighter, then Nico has to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the stinging burn, and then when he opens them, it —
He gapes. Will grins.
Where the chariot used to be, is now a shiny, brand-new, black and yellow motorbike, two helmets gleaming on the sparkling leather seat.
“…Then it might be a little more than some lousy chariot.”
Without waiting for Nico to pick his jaw off the floor, Will rushes forward. He tosses one of the helmets to Nico — which he barely manages to catch, still working on processing what the fuck just happened — and tucks the other under his arm. Nico happens to notice how his biceps flex with the action, and then vows to have his father bankrupt the entire polo shirt industry, because he can never be caught lacking like this by any mortal soul. It’s humiliating.
There’s a click as Will unlatches the seat, lifting it up to access the compartment under it. He pulls out a bundle mass of black fabric, and with a flick of his shoulders reveals it to be a fucking leather jacket and oh, gods, Nico takes back the polo shirt complaints, he can live with the polo shirt. This is too much. This is —
“Any time you’re done ogling at me, you can climb on,” Will calls out. He doesn’t even have the good grace to look in Nico’s direction, instead sliding on the seat facing resolutely forward, amused smirk on his face. And because he wants Nico to die, actually, he straightens his jacket, making sure it fits his shoulders right (by the gods does it ever) brushes his hair backwards (there is no genuine reason for someone’s hair to actually shine in the sunlight) and slides his helmet on. When he finally does look back in Nico’s direction, through his raised visor, the combined sight of his sparkling blue eyes and the cut of his face under the angular helmet actually gives him tachycardia.
“I hate you,” Nico croaks. “Not joking.”
Will throws his head back and laughs, baring his long, tanned throat. Nico follows the bob of his adam’s apple like Tantalus does the forbidden fruit. It’s horrible, and what’s worse is that Will is visibly preening like the fuckin’ peacock he is. Someone should remind him he’s basically a dressed up turkey. Or something. Nico’s brain is operating at twenty percent capacity, his ability to metaphor properly is a secondary concern.
“Just get over here, you goober. We’re on a time limit, remember?”
Shoving his helmet on to hide his flaming face, Nico does, sliding on with a healthy four inches of space between them.
“Mm, not gonna work, ParaNorman. This thing’s enchanted, we’ll be going well over a hundred. Hold on properly.”
Praying to seven different gods for strength, at once, Nico scooches the agonizing few inches closer.
“Hands around waist, Death Boy.”
“I’m fucking — I’m getting there, you asshole, gimme a goddamn second.”
“Do you need help?”
“I need you to shut the fuck up so I can focus.”
Maybe it’s the healer in him, or maybe there actually is a god looking out for Nico and they decide to have mercy. Maybe it’s a third option. Either way, Will reaches back and wraps his callused hands around Nico’s wrist, tugging them gently forward and resting them on the narrow curve of his hips. Nico holds them there, along with his breath, until some of the panicky tension starts to loosen in his chest, and he relaxes forward, resting his chest against Will’s back.
“There,” he says quietly, humming with approval when Nico’s arms link properly around his waist. He squeezes his clasped wrists once — a silent you good? — and waits for Nico’s minute nod, face buried in the back of Will’s neck, before starting up the engine, revving it twice before leaning forward, body flush to the bike. Nico can practically feel his grin, it’s so clear in his mind’s eye, in the delight thrumming through Will’s entire body, that he can’t help his own smile, too, can’t help but feel the thrum of the machine, the sharp smell in the air. He tightens his hold and Will lets out a loud, whooping laugh.
“Let’s ride, baby!”
With a push off the ground and a twist of a thrusters, they’re off, leaving behind only the echo of the roaring engine and the joyful, startled sound of Nico’s shriek.
———
next
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erensonly · 3 months
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thinking about sweet data analyst!reader being quiet as a mouse always scaring the boys. scares them so much they think abt getting her a bell. lets get into some backstory bc this may be a mini series 😈
contains: extreme fluff, ooc writing, love is used as a pet name, no pronouns used, references to DV pls read at your own discretion.
you were the new data analyst for the 141. before, you only worked with Kate, gathering and analyzing data for her but she thought you would be so much more helpful to the task force since their old analyst had retired. you were hesitant at first, not really wanting to be around a group of men. why should you leave your comfort zone?
this did not work with laswell. she had taken you in after you stumbled to the gates of the base, attempting to stop crying to give them an explanation and sporting bruises on your face and hands. luckily she had been there to meet with john when she had heard the guards complaining about a crying woman refusing to leave. she had helped you in more than one way. even allowing you to stay with her until you could find a job and move by yourself.
when she had found out you knew your way around computers, her face lit up like a christmas tree, telling you she had the perfect job for you. you were hesitant to take the job, knowing the work she did involved the military, you didn't know if you wanted to take the job. you had tried to convince her that it was fine, but once laswell has her mind made up, that's it.
thats how you ended up here, wanting oreos. you didn't mean to scare them at first. they were a little scary and you wanted nothing to do with them at first.
you just wanted the oreos but ghost was in the way, facing the opposite way with his head in his phone. you stood there awkwardly at first,not wanting to ask the big man to move but you really wanted those cookies. you stand there for a bit debating if you'll wait for him to leave the room or grow some balls and just ask him to move. you decided on doing neither.
you made your way towards him as quickly as you could; the plan was to just reach up and grab the chocolate cookies so you could go back to your desk before ghost could say anything. trying to get closer to the cabinet, you find yourself pushed up against the counter, a large hand wrapped around your wrist. when he realized it was you, he let you go with a big sigh. "scared the shit out of me. when did you get in here?"
"uh.. not too long ago." that was all you could muster, the man was too intimidating. you awkwardly shuffled towards the cabinet with the cookies and reached up to get them. mission accomplished, you thought to yourself. slithering back to your desk, you leave ghost stunned and only able to mutter a quick "bloody hell" before going back to his phone.
----
the next time you interact with the 141 outside of working it's with gaz. from the small conversations you had, he seemed very nice with a kind smile and calming aura. this time you were trying to make your way to price's office to give him a manila folder with the information he requested. you had walked to the door but heard talking, maybe he was busy. you decided that you would wait to give him the folder so you wouldn't have to speak to whoever was in the office.
it felt like time was going so slow and by the time the person had walked out, you were leaning against the corner of the wall, head against the wall in a way that you had have to almost round the corner to be able to see you. you looked up, and the man look like he just had a heart attack. clutching his chest like he was clutching his pearls and purse and breathing heavily. "Jesus, love,gotta say something. have you been waiting out here long? you could've just came in, y'know?" all the questions were becoming overwhelming when you just gripped his lips to silence him.
it took his look of surprise and a bit of thought to realize what you did. you had just grabbed the lips of a soldier. not just any soldier but a heavily decorated soldier who was apart of The john price's task force. he could kill you faster than you can say you're sorry. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to, you just kept talking and i didnt know what to do. please don't kill me." you had finished your mini rant only to see him doubled over in laughter. he was in tears.
"did you just silence me?" he asked between laughs. you didn't understand what the hell was funny, this man is going to kill you. while he was still laughing and trying to get soap on the phone, you tiptoed into price's office to give him the folder, telling him that if he found you dead on base it was gaz before scurrying out of his office. john was left looking confused because he had just heard kyle laughing a few seconds ago.
----
next was soap. sweet, sweet soap. he genuinely did his best to welcome you into their group, but you didn't really seem interested. he eventually just took any interaction you two had and replayed it in his head over and over again. you were just so sweet, how could he not? you still got lost on base sometimes since everything was one monotone grey and everything looked the same. and it was just your luck that the only people around were new recruits and other people you never spoke to. turning, you see soap heading toward the mess hall.
when you sped up to catch him, he's surprised. he even did that cartoon cat jump they do before running off. he started saying something in a language you don't understand when you cut him off. "not sure what you're saying but i agree. anyway, where's the gym? i need to ask ghost a question." he was shocked to see you turn around and wait for him to lead the way. he couldn't help the smile that came across his face. such a hasty girl; you always said everything you needed to say as fast as you could before turning away, giving him a look at allat movement back there.
he laughed again before helping you find ghost. and you still don't get why these men find you so funny. there is nothing funny about them being so scary.
----
lastly, we got my husband john. he was made aware of your situation and why you acted the way you did before you started working under him. he couldn't help but think you were a sweet, hard working little thing. never with much to say, and so skittish. he may have told you that he doesn't know how to access the files on his computer just so he can see you come to his office with a folder. is it a crime to want to see such a sweet face?
john had told you he would like to see you after debriefing and that he would just let you know. but you had already finished your work of the day an you spent your free time playing whatever games you could access on your computer. you eventually started to feel restless so you decided to sit in price's office until he got there. there was a couch in a corner of the room, worn but comfortable. you could imagine the boys laying on the couch talking mindlessly to john.
you had sunken into the corner of the couch, curling up in a way that you would have to step completely into the office to see you sitting there. it had been a good 10 minutes of sitting in silence before you heard footsteps approaching the door. you couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but it sounded like john was on the phone. he, not long after, walked into the room, holding his phone between his shoulder and ear with a stack of folders in his hands.
"-exactly. yeah i'll be on it right away. bye." and as he's turning around, you're sitting up straighter and he yells. and i mean one of those old people, "help i've fallen" type of yelps; and he drops his files on the floor. you just give him a blank stare.
"good God. when did you get in here?" you just shrug, brushing over the question. "what was it that you needed from me sir?" that's when he knew, you were going to be the death of the 141. literally.
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merakiui · 5 months
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The Most Dangerous Game [2]
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yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, slight hints of dub-con, coercion, manipulation, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, friends with benefits, obsession, unrequited/one-sided love, brief angst, choking, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, characters written as 18+ note - it is never a good idea to make mutually beneficial arrangements with jade leech. // split into two parts due to size. read the first half here.
There’s a certain air about you when you enter the Mostro Lounge.
Radiating confident satisfaction, a cutthroat type of on-top-of-the-world aura that replaces any first day jitters attempting to rise to the surface, you beeline for the kitchen. You know the lounge’s layout well enough—not only as a customer who spent an obsessive amount of time observing these details, but also as Jade’s diligent taste-tester. You’ve been let into the lounge kitchen after hours more often than you’d like to admit, but it only serves to bolster your mental fortitude.
I’m going to kill it today, you assure yourself. Prove to Azul that I’m capable and get closer to Floyd in the process.
As if having read your thoughts, Floyd intercepts you. “Heyyy, Shrimpy really showed up!” He circles you like a curious shark, a smile slowly spreading on his lips. “Lookin’ good.”
You reward his ogling with a twirl in your new uniform, which had been conveniently waiting at your doorstep this morning—wrapped in a pretty box with a big bow. The card had simply read: A uniform to celebrate your newly acquired Officially Octavinelle status. You didn’t have to read further to know who signed the message, and the note had been swiftly torn in two and tossed into the trash while you lamented to Grim and the ghosts about a certain stupid, sly eel.
“Aren’t I just the spitting image of scummy scams and the deep sea?”
“The most spittin’ image anyone’s ever spat,” he agrees with a silly giggle. But then something serious passes over his features. He plucks your hat from off your head and leans in close. “It’s Shrimpy’s first day, so I’m gonna letcha in on a li’l somethin’, kay?”
Out of instinct, you shrink away. His voice is a dangerous whisper, lined with threatening undertones. “Anyone gives you any trouble, you come to me, got it? Don’t think you can’t say nothin’ cuz you’re new.”
“Oh. O-Oh!” You nod hastily, too astounded to rely on your usual quick-witted coherency. “Thank you… I appreciate that.”
Like a flipped switch, he brightens and plops your hat back on your head. “Man, I’m pumped! It’s gonna be so much fun with Shrimpy here!”
You adjust your hat and skip after him, not wanting to slip out of his orbit. “So what’s the plan for today?”
Floyd grins and holds a card between his fingers like a magician readying to reveal his next trick. Foolishly, you assume it’s a love letter up until you watch him scribble something down on a second card. He passes the unmarked one to you, explaining, “Ya gotta sign in for every shift. These things keep track of the hours ya worked, and at the end of every two weeks Azul counts ’em up.”
“That makes sense.” You take the pen he offers and scribble your name and the time in the appropriate boxes, soon handing both to him.
“And after you put it back here, you can start doin’ what you’re supposed to. Least, that’s what I usually do.”
“And that is?”
“Whatever I feel like.”
“Ah, right. Then what about me? What should I do?”
“You’re gonna be with me today. We’ll be takin’ orders and servin’ customers. Doin’ stuff as we go. That sorta thing.”
“All right! Sounds easy enough!” The both of you high-five just as Jade approaches, wearing his usual polite smile.
“My, my. Someone’s in high spirits.”
You nod, too eager to entertain him with another pointless argument. “You bet! Oh, and thanks for the uniform.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Your nose scrunches at his too-proud inflection, but your attention is soon snatched away when Floyd returns with a notepad and pen.
You flip to a fresh page, curiously clicking your pen. “I’m assuming there’s a system for taking orders?”
“Precisely,” Jade interrupts, smoothly striding between you and Floyd, a hand over his heart. “We use abbreviations when taking orders. It’s quick and convenient. I’ll help you as you go.”
Floyd easily steps around Jade, draping an arm on your shoulder and tugging you against him. Your heart skyrockets into your throat at this newfound closeness. “You’ll get it in no time. S’not difficult at all. And if Shrimpy gets stuck, she’s got me.”
Jade stares at Floyd, a ghost of a frown turning his lips down. “She’ll have both of us,” he corrects coolly. “Azul tasked both of us to train her, after all.”
“Yeah, but you’re just gonna do things by the book. That’s no fun at all.” Floyd spins you to look at him. “You want me to train ya, right? It’ll be more fun that way.”
You lock eyes with Jade over Floyd’s shoulder. Though they’re dulled with emptiness, he smiles and nods encouragingly. “Uh… I mean, of course I want you to train me. But Azul might get angry if I mess up on my first day because I wanted to have fun. Seems a little…irresponsible.”
He’ll definitely count it as my first strike, too. There’s no way I’m risking that.
Floyd pouts, his entire frame melting with disappointment. “Aww. Shrimpy’s lame.”
“There are other ways to have fun, you know.” Swatting his empty insult away, you lower your voice conspiratorially. “We just can’t get caught.”
“Attagirl, now you’re speakin’ my language.”
“Hell yeah! Let’s do this!”
Between the two of them, Floyd actually proves his worth—more so than Jade. He must be on top of his game today, you realize as he points out various numbering systems and abbreviations, casually correcting you when it’s necessary. You wonder how he can remember all of this, but when he puts his mind to a task he can accomplish anything. You’re content to listen and follow along, striving for perfection even though you know that means nothing to Floyd.
Jade keeps his distance, tending to nearby tables when he’s not needed. He’s quiet today, more so than usual, but you don’t have any time to dissect this observation and what it means. The lunch rush is a whirlwind; students filter in with their cravings, piling into booths and tables, and soon the lounge is resembling a noisy sardine tin. The rowdy energy keeps you alert, has you flitting from table to table with a pep in your step. Every group you’ve tended to, with Floyd standing at your side as your lifeline, has shrunk away at the sight of him. He flashes them friendly grins, but to everyone else they probably look menacing.
You’re relieved he’s here. His presence gives you some special sort of invincibility against ignorant customers who may have been itching to heckle you on your first day. And no one would dare try anything with Floyd prowling so closely.
“Thank you for your order! It’ll be up shortly,” you say, offering the table a trademark customer service smile. You turn on your heel, intending to beeline for the kitchen to notify the chefs of another order, when you walk right into Floyd. “Oh, sorry! Do you need something, Floyd?”
Pinching the order slip between two nimble fingers, he tears it from the notebook and beams. “I’ll take care of this. You do the next one by yourself. Table six.” Before you can object, he pats you on the shoulder and skips off. “Countin’ on ya, Shrimpy!”
Aw. I’ll miss you, you think with a dejected pout, spinning to locate the table in question. The pout immediately twists up into a smile when you spot three familiar faces, and you hurry over to meet them.
“Hey, guys, fancy seeing you here!”
Ace, Deuce, and Grim all turn to look at you, their faces brightening considerably at your arrival.
“(Name), hey! How’s your first shift going?” Deuce asks.
“Think ya could slide us some extras free of charge?” Grim tries, patting the menu with his paw. “The Great Grim ain’t gonna say no to free eats!”
“Now that sounds good. What do ya think, (Name)? Think you could hook us up?” With a smirk, Ace leans back into the cushioned booth and pantomimes locking his lips and tossing an invisible key. “We won’t tell if you won’t.”
You roll your eyes, hands situated on your hips. “First of all, no, I can’t do that even if I wanted to. Secondly, if you’re just here to beg for free food, the door’s over there.”
“Don’t listen to them,” Deuce cuts in, shooting them a look. “They’re just thinking with their stomachs. We’re paying customers like everyone else, so please just treat us like that.”
Ace tuts. “You wouldn’t even do something nice for your best buds? That’s harsh, man. I thought we had something.”
“We do and it’s called friendship. But not the kind of friendship where I steal from my job just to feed you. Besides, you get tons of free snacks every time you hang out at Ramshackle. If anything, you ought to do something nice for me.”
“Can’t I just buy my way out with this award-winning smile of mine? Oh, I know! I’ll teach you a few magic tricks next time we play cards. How’s that sound for payment? Priceless, yeah?”
“Not too bad. All right, I’m in.” You reach over to bump fists with Ace, sealing the verbal deal.
“Hey, I wanna learn! If yer teachin’ my hench-human, I gotta get in on this, too!” Grim nudges Ace, attempting to squeeze past him in the booth to get between him and you.
“Oi, Grim! Sit back down!”
You laugh at the sight while Deuce looks on woefully. He turns to you next. “How’s it going with Floyd? You said you’d have a better chance to see him here, right?”
“Yeah, it’s going surprisingly well! I thought he’d want nothing to do with me at first—because I’d be just another new hire—but he’s been super helpful all day. On top of that, we’re talking more than we usually do. Oh, and he also complimented me! It’s been a great first day.” The more you ramble, the more the color on Deuce’s face drains until he’s as pallid as a ghost. “Uh, Deuce? You good?”
Even Grim and Ace have quieted their quarreling, and now they look on with an obedience that startles you. But then, in spite of his silence, you sense him. Without turning to confirm, you feel around for the ends of his scarf, take hold of both, and tug him down to your height.
“My, my. It seems I’ve been ensnared,” Jade admits, his voice light with laughter.
“It’s rude to lurk, you know,” you advise, craning your head to glare at him. “You’re scaring my honored guests.”
“Am I now?” Rather boldly, he rests his chin on your shoulder to stare down at your friends. The proximity would have been ominous to anyone else—and it certainly is to Ace, Deuce, and Grim—but for you this is nothing new. “I’ve only come to check in. You’re very hard at work making pleasant conversation.”
“It was very pleasant until a certain eel interrupted.”
“Ah, is that so? Pardon my intrusion.”
Releasing his scarf from your hold, you shrug him off. “Little late for insincerity. Anyway, shoo. I was just about to take their orders.”
“I thought I might observe. You seem quite popular with customers and it’s only your first day. I’d like to know what parts of you are so appealing.” Jade detaches himself and slides into the empty space beside you. He smiles, close-eyed and tight-lipped. “Don’t let me hinder you.”
“Ugh. All right, guys, what do you want?”
“Since when are you so buddy-buddy with Jade?” Ace asks instead, sounding genuinely curious despite his growing smirk.
He thinks he’s worked out what’s going on behind the scenes, but he doesn’t even know half of it. A relief, otherwise you’d never hear the end of his teasing. He doesn’t bother to hide it, nor does he whisper his query. If you could shrink him with pure willpower alone, stuff him in a jar, and give it a firm shake, you’d do just that.
“We are not buddy-buddy!” you hiss, clicking your pen impatiently. “Now order, or else I’m leaving your table and never coming back.”
“I dunno…” Deuce winces under the combination of Jade’s inquisitive stare and your mean glower as you wordlessly dare him to continue. “You seem like buds to me.”
“Yeah! (Name) was goin’ on and on about him this morning. Nearly made me deaf with all her loud rantin’! Since the Great Grim’s so all-knowin’ about stuff, I’d say she likes him.”
You catch the grin curling on Jade’s lips and hurry to step in front of him before he can say or do anything that’ll deepen the grave you’ve dug. His hands fall upon your shoulders, holding you still while he leers at your friends.
“Do we truly seem so close?” he asks. A trick question if you’ve ever heard one.
The three of them exchange wary looks before attempting chuckles.
“You know… Actually, I think I’m ready to order now.”
“I mean, closeness can’t really be measured physically like that, right? You kinda have no choice but to be close or…as close as coworkers can get, I guess,” Deuce adds.
“The Great Grim’s gonna be skin and bones by the time you finish yapping! Hurry up and lemme put my order in!”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You stick your tongue out at them before shifting out of Jade’s grasp, penning their orders one at a time. Once everything has been recorded, you rip the slip from the notepad and pass it to Jade. He peers at it, brows raised.
“Since we’re so close, help me out and make this order.”
“Anything for Shrimpy,” he murmurs with that stupid, sly smile of his. He brushes past you as he departs for the bar.
You just love to play dangerous games, don’t you, Jade Leech? you think, hoping he trips on the way there. (He doesn’t.)
“You sure there’s nothing between you and Jade?” Ace asks once it’s just you. “Nothing at all?”
Your eyes narrow dubiously. “Why? You interested?”
He forces a loud scoff. “As if! Like I’d like you. You’ve probably got all sortsa cooties.”
“Oh, really? I’ll show you cooties. Come here!”
Giggling, you throw yourself into the booth and wrap your arms around Ace to smother him in friendly affection. He fights it halfheartedly, his cheeks flushed pink. Deuce and Grim sit back and enjoy the silliness with wide smirks. You’re near-wrestling with him, the both of you attempting to overpower the other with pokes and pinches. It’s when you spot Floyd emerging from the kitchen, drinks balanced on his tray, that you finally separate yourself from Ace, putting a grand end to your impossible stalemate.
“Now we’ve both got cooties.” You ruffle his hair. He attempts to return the favor, but you take a graceful step away before he can capture you.
“Yeah, yeah. Just you wait. I’ll get you back for this,” he challenges, mischief lacing each syllable. “When you least expect it! That’s an Ace Trappola guarantee!”
“You sure you’re not just gonna forget?” Deuce notes with a smirk, to which Ace glares.
“Just because you said that, I’m gonna remember it for the rest of the month!”
“Good luck,” Grim says with a snicker. “The Great Grim might be inclined to remind you if you offer him some premium tuna…”
“Come off it! Your memory’s even worse! Just look at your last test score!”
“Yours ain’t any better!”
You shake your head, thoroughly amused with their antics. “I’ll see you later, okay? Let’s hang out at Ramshackle tonight!”
Deuce nods and flashes you a kind smile—the type that smooths out all of his rough edges. “Have a good rest of your shift, (Name).”
“Make a difference, tiger,” Ace says with a wink. “Catch ya in the eve.”
“And if they got leftovers at the end of this, bring ’em home for me!”
“You can count on it, guys. And I’m not making any promises, Grim!”
And then you’re slipping into the fray before your always-hungry direbeast friend can protest, darting around the noisy hustle and bustle to get to Floyd. He’s just finished making his rounds when you meet him at the center, the both of you sharing a nod of mutual greeting. Carrying drinks of his own, Jade passes you and you don’t spare him a single glance. You’ve seen and heard enough of him for the day.
“Shrimpy’s pretty good at this,” Floyd remarks as he wraps an arm around you, putting most of his weight on you. You stand proud even though you falter with the added burden. “Didja work in a place like this back in your world?”
You gaze up at him, your face inches from his. Any closer and you could…
Your eyes flick from his eyes to his lips and then back. Floyd watches you, brows raised and body angled directly at you. He’s waiting. Waiting for what, you’re not sure.
“Yeah,” you admit in a single breath, speechless and yet filled to the brim with chatter. “I… I did.”
“Then you got nothin’ to worry about. You’re already doin’ great.”
He leans in even closer, a smile stretching across his face. You can smell his cologne, practically taste him from where you stand. The lounge and its inhabitants seem to fade away, and suddenly it’s just you and your star in a tenebrous space lit only by a single spotlight.
Any closer—mere centimeters—and you could…
Gathering your courage, you force the words out from the crannies in your heart, each one a product of this perfect moment. “Floyd, I’ve always wanted to tell you this. I… I want you to know that I’ve always loved—”
“Your work ethic,” Jade interjects, placing his hands on your and Floyd’s shoulders to separate you. He smiles, irritatingly innocent. “As it happens, table eight needs a server. Why not show off that incredible work ethic right now?”
On second thought, maybe you should shove Jade in the jar. Lock him inside for the rest of his days and turn it into a terrarium trap. The plants can thrive off of his decomposing corpse for all you care—as recompense for being an utter pain.
Floyd shrugs Jade off with a pout. “Yeah, yeah. I see ’em.”
“I’ll race you there,” you challenge before he can lose steam.
That sparks him right back into the groove, and he giggles. “If I win, you gotta tell me that thing you were tryin’ to say, okaaay? No gettin’ out of it. And if you lie, I’ll squeeze the truth outta ya.”
“And if I win, you owe me something sweet!”
“Hee-hee. Shrimpy better run fast then.”
He takes off first. You lag behind long enough to drag Jade down to your face. He tilts his head at you.
“At this rate, he’ll win.”
“Good. Then he’ll finally know how I feel about him, and someone won’t be there to interrupt like the ignorant, asshole eel he is.”
“I only wish to assist you. After all—” he lowers his voice, and the pointed beginnings of his teeth wink at you from under his curved lips— “as per Azul’s condition, kissing and confessions count as Floyd-related distractions, do they not? Are you truly willing to risk striking out on your first day?”
He’s right. You hate that he’s right.
“Shit,” you hiss, releasing him from your hold.
He straightens and struts past you, smooth as a breeze. “If you run now, you may just make it.” And then he’s walking towards your friends’ table, each of their drinks placed upon his tray.
You groan and fall into a frantic run. “Floyd, wait up!”
By some magical miracle, you manage to get to the table before he does. But that’s only because you throw yourself at it with a force so shocking and desperate that it stuns both Floyd and the students sitting there. A twinge of humiliation pricks your heart when you draw away from the table, smiling sheepishly. Floyd’s raucous laughter permeates the air, and his hand claps down on your shoulder.
“Musta been a real good secret if Shrimpy’s so determined to keep quiet about it.”
“Y-Yeah, something like that…”
Thank goodness I made it. Just what was I thinking, getting swept up in the moment? There’s no way I can confess in the middle of the lounge when it’s so busy! That would make for such a lame confession. You dig your notepad and pen from your pocket, exhaling in relief. I guess I owe Jade some thanks. He saved me from certain doom.
“I’ll figure it out eventually. Don’t hold out on me, kaaay?”
With his looming frame overshadowing you, all you can do is nod. Floyd has always had a tendency to take your breath away—either from anxiety, amazement, or admiration. And he’s so good at it, too.
“Ah. Guess I owe ya somethin’ sweet, yeah?” He digs through his pockets before withdrawing a single candy. Grinning boyishly, he leans in, presses his lips to your cheek with a wet-sounding smack, and then slides the treat into your waiting hand. “There. How’s that for sweet?”
Your face flares with heat and you grip the lollipop in a tighter fist, half-expecting it to simply vanish if you loosen your grip. “T-The sweetest…”
“Uh, can we order now?” an impatient Scarabia student asks, a scowl scrawled across his features.
His friends huff in agreement, each unwilling spectators to your and Floyd’s fluffy fawning.
Floyd’s gaze is dark, but his smile is bright—all sharp points. “Sure, sure. Tell Shrimpy your order. It’s her first day, so cut her some slack, else I’m servin’ each of ya a side of squeezin’. On the house.”
The quartet of friends stiffen and give hasty, obedient nods.
You click your pen, swimming through a sea of pure joy. The lollipop is a lucky charm in your pocket. “What can I get for you, gentlemen?”
For the rest of the day you’re in the clouds, clear-headed and weightless.
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Weeks later, on your way out of the lounge, Floyd stops you. His arrival is Grim’s cue to exit, and he trots after Ace and Deuce, who are already so far ahead they’re practically pinpricks. You’re compelled to follow, if only to tell them not to wait up, but then Floyd’s hand is squeezing your shoulder, willing you to look at him.
“Floyd?”
You’re not scheduled to work tonight. In fact, you have no further business with him. Not really. Most of your conversations are held during your shifts, your bond strengthened through mutual employment. You’re not best friends, but you’re something close.
Close enough to see each other outside of work, you think before cringing inwardly. Wait. Friends and classmates do that, too. There’s nothing special about that.
“Why don’tcha stay a while? S’not too busy today.”
“I’d love to, but I’ve kinda got plans. We’re heading back to Ramshackle now if you wanna come.”
“Tempting, but nah.”
You blink at him, unsure of his angle. “Then… I’ll see you around?”
Floyd giggles, tilting his head at you in that cute, curious way. “Okaaay.”
His hand slides away and he stands with his arms folded behind his back. You take a step in the opposite direction before halting.
Floyd was the one who sought me out. Floyd…wants something from me. And we’re finally alone. Why am I trying to walk away from that? Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted?
“Actually—” you start, whirling around, still unsure— “can we hang out?”
“Thought ya’d never ask.”
Floyd strides over to match your gait, grinning down at you. He seizes your hand next, spindly fingers interlocking with yours, and then he’s dragging you down the hall. As if caught up in a current, you allow yourself to be pulled.
“What about your shift?” you ask even though you don’t particularly care.
“They’ll manage. Azul’ll just make Jade do all the work.”
You furrow your brow, stumbling along after him. “That doesn’t seem very fair to Jade.”
“Shrimpy cares a lot about Jade, huh?”
“Not like that,” you say, shaking your head. “No way. Jade and I are just friends.”
“Yeah? Didn’t seem that way yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” You think back on the day’s events and recall the way Jade had slipped past you while you were taking an order, his fingers grazing your arm. Of course, as any smart, sensible person would do, you wound your fist back to reciprocate tenfold, which he’d artfully dodged. Much to your disappointment. “Oh, that. That was…an attempt at a high-five.”
Floyd giggles. “Jade’s not super touchy-feely with lotsa people, but he loooves touchin’ Shrimpy.”
You force yourself to laugh, but it comes out high and brittle. “That’s… Yeah, that’s odd. I wonder why…”
Jade, you asshole eel, you haven’t been discreet at all!
Before you can even think of the many ways in which you can exact revenge the next time you see him, Floyd’s in your face.
“Sooo, what spell didja cast on him? It’s got Jade actin’ all weird.”
“Define weird…”
“He’s stayin’ up super late to cook a buncha stuff. Keeps tryin’ to get these recipes right or somethin’ like that, and he’s bringin’ those purple flowers back from the botanical garden. S’not like him to get so…not like him, y’know?”
“Oh. Um. Uh… I couldn’t begin to explain any of his behavior. Maybe he’s just going through something?”
Floyd shrugs. “Do ya like him?”
“Like is a strong word.”
“So you love him.”
“What? No. We’re just friends.”
“So you hate him? That’s cold, Shrimpy. Jade’ll be so sad…”
“I highly doubt that.” You roll your eyes, unable to place real devastation on the face of Jade Leech. For all you know, he could just mask it with his usual simper. “I don’t hate him, but I don’t love him either. I like someone else.”
“Ooh, Shrimpy’s got eyes for another guy? Wonder who it could be.” Floyd hums, folding his arms behind his head and walking onwards. You skip after him. “Maybe it’s me? Nah. S’probably someone closer than that. Like Crabby, yeah?”
Your heart stumbles in your ribs. I can’t confess. Not now. It’s not perfect. I’m not ready.
“M-My love life is none of your business.”
“Secretive about your special someone? I getcha.” He gazes at you. “Do they know?”
“About my crush? Hard to say. If he does know, he hasn’t said anything yet.”
“Maybe ya just gotta be direct with it. Rip the bandage off. That sorta thing.”
“I want to. I really do. But…” You glance at the tiled floor. “I know he doesn’t feel the same.”
“Don’t assume stuff when ya haven’t even asked the guy.”
“But I’m positive he doesn’t like me! There’s no way he’d like me. I’m…me.”
Floyd huffs as if your self-doubt offends him. “What’s there not to like about ya? You’re great in my book.”
“It’s different. Being great and being loved—it’s not the same if it’s coming from a friend.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Why can’tcha be great and loved at the same time? Ya don’t gotta get that sorta validation from the guy you like.”
“That’s the problem. I want him to like me! I want that from him.”
“Even if he doesn’t give it to ya, s’not the end of the world.”
Without even realizing it, the two of you have made it to his dorm room. You stare at Floyd, a frown flickering on your face.
“I know. I…know. But there’s this part of me that hopes.”
Floyd leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “Why’s that?”
“Because he does these things that feel too intimate to be friendly and it seems like he might love me, too. No matter how hard I try, I can’t read his intentions. He’s so loud, but the meaning in all of that noise is quiet. It’s like… Like you’re drowning.”
Floyd stares blankly at you. It occurs to you that drowning may not be the best metaphor to use when explaining these complications to a merman who has never and will never know what such a phenomenon feels like.
“Wait. That came out weird. What am I even saying? Sorry, I sound silly. Just…forget that last part.”
“Sure, sure.” He pushes off from the wall and opens the door. “You ever think about practicin’ on anyone?”
“Like…CPR? To save someone from drowning?”
He gives you a confused look.
This is the worst. I’m not normally this dumb. If Jade was here— You stop that thought before it can form. I don’t need him to hold my hand through an interaction with Floyd. Come on, (Name). You can do this!
“Oh, you meant…” What the hell did he mean? “You’re talking about a confession, right?”
“Yeah, that’s it! You ever think about doin’ that with a friend? Maybe it’ll boost your confidence a li’l. Get ya ready for the real deal.”
“I have…never thought of that. Not once in my life. Nope. Never.”
Floyd ducks inside his room and plops down on a messy bed. You follow, admiring the very obvious divide in space. Jade’s half of the room is clinically clean—every possession organized and stowed away on shelves. Even his desk is spotless. Floyd’s half is chaos stuffed with chaos, entirely in messy disarray. When their differences are made so obvious, it’s almost amusing.
You spot heliotropes tucked away in a simple vase. Floyd wasn’t kidding. Jade really is attached to those flowers. At least they match his room.
“Then practice on me.”
“You… You’re serious?” You turn to look at him. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back on his palms.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I wanna help Shrimpy.”
“Um… You don’t have to. It’ll probably sound cringe.”
“Who knows?” He hums, smirking. “You won’t until you do it.”
You weigh your options. Practicing a confession for your crush with your crush… It could be cathartic to say everything you’ve always wanted to say without the worry that often accompanies rejection. You might even feel better afterwards.
“Promise not to laugh?”
“Promise.”
“Really promise. Like, genuinely promise. Please?”
“I really, genuinely promise not to laugh,” he parrots, holding his hand up as if swearing an oath.
You inhale a deep breath, steel your nerves, and squeeze your eyes shut.
“Okay…”
I’ve got this. It’s just a confession. A practice confession.
“I… I like you. For the longest time, I’ve been in love with you and I’ve always wanted to tell you. But… Well, it’s impossible because I never know what to say or whether it’ll be the right thing. Maybe there is no right thing.” You risk opening your eyes and find he’s focused squarely on you. Nervously, you step towards him. “You’re amazing. The coolest guy I’ve ever met. I’m so happy when I’m around you, and when we’re not together I feel like part of me is missing. Maybe that’s kinda dramatic, but it’s the truth. You’re my star. Bright and unique and effortlessly beautiful… I could admire you forever. So… So I just want you to know that…that no matter what happens—even if you don’t feel the same—you mean everything to me, and I’ll always love you.”
Floyd is unusually quiet as he sits there, absorbing your words with a flushed face. And then he reaches to scratch the back of his neck.
You fidget on your feet. “H-How was it?”
“I’m not an expert, but I’d say that was pretty damn good,” he replies with a whistle. Your heart lifts when he beckons you over. “C’mere. There’s somethin’ on your face.”
Now your heart has crash-landed in the pits of your stomach.
“Are you serious?! Why didn’t you tell me before all of that? Aah, I probably looked so stupid!” Your panicked flailing ceases when his hands settle upon your waist, coaxing you closer. “F-Floyd?”
He drags you down to his height and leans in to peck you on the lips, and your heart jumps back up into your throat. Rather than yanking yourself out of his grasp, you merely stare at him. A few seconds later and the embarrassment catches up to you.
“W-Wait… Wait, hold on! What was that for?”
He giggles. “Now it’s all gone.”
He kissed me for real this time…
You swallow rising anxieties and place your hands on his shoulders. “Can… Can I kiss you?”
“S’long as it ain’t gonna change your mind about that other guy, go for it.”
Dummy, you think, besotted. You’re that guy.
Guided by hedonistic desire, you close the distance between the both of you in the same way you once did with Jade. As humiliating as it is to admit, he was marvelous help. If not for him, you might’ve never found yourself here, kissing after a practice confession. You’ll have to thank him later.
Floyd’s lips are soft against your own, and he smiles into the kiss with a gleeful, breathless giggle. His hands are roaming along your hips, and he flops onto his bed without forewarning. You fall with him and inadvertently straddle him, your hands situated on either side of his head. You sputter your disbelief, which is soon cut short when he drags you down to meet his mouth once more. This time it’s all heady passion, more innate instinct than anything. You kiss like you’ll never have another chance, savoring saliva and a duet of sounds made in salacity.
The both of you are left breathless in the aftermath, chests heaving. If this is a dream, you never want to wake.
Floyd smiles up at you, sandwiching your face between large, strong hands. “You gonna kiss your special someone like this?”
“Maybe,” you tease with a wink. “I wonder if he prefers soft, slow kisses or quick, hungry ones… It’s hard to say with his fluctuating moods, and there are just so many ways to kiss.”
Floyd’s smile morphs into something devious, and his hands slide to your arms. You yelp when he flips you and pins you down like you’re nothing more than a portrait on a wall. You’re about to question the sudden change in position when he hoists your legs up and around his waist. He rocks his hips once, slotting himself between your thighs in a way so sensual it has you overheating. Your breath hitches.
“Then we’d better practice all of ’em, yeah?”
You nod, your voice coming out meek. “Y-Yeah…”
“Gimme some hints. I wanna know who this guy is,” he says, removing his scarf and undone tie. His blazer and hat follow suit, abandoned in the piles of dirty laundry spread around on his side of the floor.
You’re so distracted by his methodical undressing that you almost miss his demand. “O-Oh, it’s…not important.”
“It is to me. I wanna know who I’m gonna hafta squeeze for stealin’ Shrimpy’s heart.”
“Is… Is that right?” you mumble, flinching when you spot his erection straining against his slacks.
“Shrimpy’s so cute. I just couldn’t help it,” he answers your unspoken question, each syllable an octave higher with his whimsical laughter. You watch deft hands work to slide the suspenders from his shoulders before moving to unbutton his uniform shirt. You blink and it’s already thrown over his shoulder. You drink his broad build in, brazen in your assessment of chiseled planes cut in charming chiaroscuro. “So who’s the lucky guy? Is it someone I know? Someone from Octavinelle?”
“Um… It’s definitely someone…”
“Course it is. But that ain’t givin’ me any solid clues.”
His hands crawl lower, hovering just above the zip that separates you from his boxers and, additionally, his cock.
It’s actually happening… Floyd wants to do this with me… Is this real? It’s not a dream, right?
With a scintilla of courage, you lift your gaze to his face. “It’s someone from Octavinelle.”
“You sure it ain’t Jade?”
“There are plenty of people in Octavinelle who aren’t Jade.”
“Yeah, but none of ’em are cozyin’ up to ya during work.”
“Jade does not cozy up to me.” Scoffing at the absurdity of it all, you reach to undo the first few buttons on your uniform blouse. Floyd follows your fingers like they’re a laser and he’s a cat entranced. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “He’s, like, obsessed with his fungi. I think they’re more interesting to him than me.”
Floyd barks out a laugh. “Sounds about right.”
You sit up and pull your blouse from your person. At once, you feel humiliated and it’s not because of the half-nudity. Rather, it’s because the bra you’re wearing is not pretty in the slightest. Had you known you’d be rolling around in bed with Floyd, you’d have chosen something with more lace—something that’s not nearly as bland as the one you’re currently sporting.
“Well, if it ain’t Jade, who is it?”
“Guess.”
He pouts. “Shrimpy’s not bein’ very nice, makin’ me guess. You think I got every small fry’s name memorized?”
You choke on your retort when he palms you. “I… I’ll describe him.”
“Go on. I’m listenin’.” As he says this, he undoes the button on your pants, sliding them from your legs like he’s unwrapping a gift. You’re relieved your panties are, at the very least, cuter than your bra. “Don’t let me stop ya.”
“Okay… Where do I start? He’s handsome and has an unusual sense of humor, but it’s fun because he’s genuine with it. He can be a little frightening at times, but he’s never scared me. He’s so kind and he has the oddest reasons for why he does things, but he never lies about any of it.”
“Sounds like a decent guy.”
“He’s so much more than that!”
Floyd giggles and reaches for your bra next, yanking it up to free your breasts. You feel yourself getting warmer with every second he spends staring.
“It’s not Azul, is it?”
It’s a completely reasonable guess—not funny at all—but you laugh. “No.”
Floyd huffs. “C’mon, Shrimpy, you’re wringin’ me out here. Who is it?”
He moves to toy with your chest, but you pull him down instead. He’s so close you’re breathing him in like he’s new perfume. “Aren’t we supposed to practice kissing? Can’t do much of that if we’re talking.”
“Guess not.”
He seals the distance then, pinning you with his body. The hand that had previously been between your thighs slithers up to squeeze your breasts. He pinches and rolls your perky nipple in an effort to elicit all kinds of explicit sounds from the depths of your throat. Floyd’s tongue flashes into your mouth and you submit without struggle, allowing your own tongue to twine around his. Your hands roam without much foresight for where they’ll inevitably end up, fingers pressing into hard lines and well-toned musculature. You settle for looping your arms around his neck as you melt into him, sighing sweetly.
When he parts, you scramble to bring him back. “Floyd—”
“‘m not goin’ anywhere,” he promises, pressing his forehead to yours. He speaks softer next, as if fearing you might shove him away and flee. “You want this, right?”
“I do. More than anything.”
“You sure it ain’t gonna mess things up with you and your special someone?”
“I…” You purse your lips.
Is now a good time? It must be. It has to be! But…
“You don’t gotta tell me. Lemme know if you change your mind. I’ll stop,” he says, burying his face between your tits. Your fingers dig into his scalp and he groans when you yank fistfuls of his hair. His breath fans across your bare skin, sending pleasant shivers through your spine all the way to your toes.
You gaze at the ceiling, heart hammering relentlessly. “Thanks.”
“Mhmmm. Don’t mention it.”
Floyd peppers your chest with kisses as if it’s an empty canvas in need of affectionate paint. One hand continues to treat your nipple as if it’s his own personal stress toy while his mouth gravitates towards your other untouched bud. It hardens with his deliberate ministrations, his tongue tracing salacious circles. You gasp when the serrated points of his teeth tease your sensitive flesh next.
“Please—” it comes out reedy and raw— “Floyd, please bite me…”
“You suuure?” he asks even though the question is more playful than serious. His fingers find your panties next, hooking around the waistband to slide them down.
“I’m so sure—very sure! Please!”
You feel his amusement reverberate through you in waves when he chuckles. He tweaks your nipple harshly, and a sharp, stuttering moan slips from your parted lips. Floyd’s mouth comes off of your other nipple with a wet pop and he licks his way up to your collarbone.
“I want Shrimpy to forget all about that other guy. Only think about me right now.”
Buoyant with bliss, you hum your acquiescence. Every part of you burns with a desire so redoubtable it could be a manifestation of its own, tangible and malleable. Shaped for sex, splayed on Floyd’s mattress, entirely in the moment. You’re at his mercy, your pulse in his maw, and it’s everything.
His bite incites primal jouissance, fierce and predatory. It’s deep enough to break skin and sting, and you respond to the pleasure-pain with a keening cry. Your fingers curl into his hair to ground yourself while blood pools to the surface. Floyd’s tongue laps at the puncture. Crimson trickles from the mark when he pulls back to observe his work, his jaw stained red.
And Great Seven does he look attractive in the most agrestal, ruddy way.
He licks his lips clean, satisfaction shimmering in those enchanting eyes of his. Now that you’re looking at them, you’ve never realized just how splendid they truly are. Gold and olive-brown cut sharp, upward-angled sockets into his skull. He’s a work of art—your Galatea brought to life.
Before you can spend any more time studying him, Floyd presses two fingers against your mouth. You open wide to receive his digits, senselessly running your tongue over them without command. He giggles at this, reaching deeper until you’re choking.
“Not nice!” you exclaim after he’s pulled his hand away, his fingers coated in your saliva.
“Hee-hee. Sorry, Shrimpy.”
Remorseless. You love him.
Your moans are hissed through grit teeth when his fingers drag along your folds, just barely slipping in to sample the warmth within. You pull Floyd in for another sloppy kiss, licking into his mouth with senseless fervor and grinding down onto his hand to chase a far-off, budding climax. Floyd’s thumb glides along your clit, pushing your hood up to reveal the pert nub beneath. He sinks his slender fingers in then, two of them pushing through gummy walls without resistance. Your eyes roll back into your head when he does this, blissful relief coursing through your bloodstream.
“Oh… Haa—fuck. Thank you.”
“So pretty,” he mumbles, lazily pumping them in and out. “You’re real pretty, you know that? My pretty Shrimpy, all mine.”
“Do you… Do you really mean that?”
“Course I do. What? You don’t think so?”
“Yes—no, I mean… I… No one’s told me that before…”
Not true, your brain interrupts, oh-so-helpfully unearthing the memory despite your attempts to stifle it. Jade did. Jade thinks so.
“They wouldn’t know pretty if she stared ’em in the face.”
“Obviously not.” Your giggle rises in pitch, sounding more like a trembling cry when he curls his fingers. “Ah!”
You banish Jade to the darkest corners of your mind, willing him and his silver-tongued flattery away. Who cares if Jade thought it first? It means the most coming from Floyd.
Floyd’s smile is fond, his eyes soft. “Obviously not,” he echoes in agreement.
He works you open like you’re a blossom preening under sunlight, his fingers plucking expertly at your strings to make you sing. You writhe beneath him, breathing hot and heavy as your stomach ties itself in knots. Floyd peppers your face with a dozen kisses before gravitating towards your neck. His teeth prick your skin in a shallow bite. The mark that’s sucked into your skin next has you hissing through grit teeth. It’s such a simple act—not nearly as pleasurable as the fingers thrust up inside you—but it still draws such a wanton moan from you.
Your eyelids flutter shut, and you sink into an ocean of thoughts, imagining yourself, painted head to toe in love bites of varying severity, standing in front of a mirror to admire each one. Some could be veiled under the confidentiality of clothing, but others would be impossible to cover. Like the ones on your neck, undeniable proof of your thrilling tryst with Floyd.
“Fuck,” he hisses against your skin, needle-thin teeth catching on your shoulder. “Shrimpy’s squeezin’ my fingers suuuper tight.”
“Mm, yeah… I can’t help it. It feels—” you gasp when he presses down against your clit, those dexterous digits working you towards the bright, beautiful end— “aah… Feels so good!”
Even better now that your fantasies have finally bled into reality. You’re floating in and out of ecstasy at the perfect pace, guided by guiltless intimacy. The knots are winding themselves taut, on the verge of snapping, and you feel yourself coming undone—toes curling and lips bitten bloody while euphoria washes over you in ripples.
But then those long fingers are tugged out at once and it leaves your pussy clenching around nothing, your clit aching for attention. Tetchy and unsatisfied, your brows knitted, you lament the interruption. Your body burns and aches for proper stimulation—hungering for a release he’s so cruelly denied you.
“Fuck me. I was so close…”
“Gonna do that in a sec.”
He pulls away to shuck his pants and boxer briefs next. It’s done so fast it’s clumsy; he almost topples over in the rush. Floyd’s about to reclaim his place between your legs, but then he pauses.
“Condom,” he grumbles, a reminder more than a realization.
He leans over you to search for one amidst the junk cluttering his desk. Notwithstanding your better judgment, you grab his arm. He looks at you, and you swallow your inhibitions. Dangerous games will reward you with dangerous prizes. You know this. And yet…
“I… I wanna feel you.”
Floyd doesn’t need to be told twice. Grinning, he feels around, knocking items off in his impatience, before finally grabbing hold of a bottle of lube. He squirts a comfortable amount onto his palm and sits back to run his slick hand up his hard length. You reach down to spread yourself for his viewing pleasure, but instead he snatches your arm and flips you over onto your stomach. The change is so jarring it leaves you reeling.
“Wha—Floyd?” You crane your neck to look at him, but he pushes you back into the pillows.
“Stay there,” he says, but his voice has dropped a few decibels into something thick and husky. “Shrimpy trusts me, yeah?”
“I…do. But I wanted to look at you while—”
“Just trust me on this. I think you’ll like it.”
He rubs his palm against your flank, and you’re horrified by how easily you submit—that that’s all it takes to wheedle you into absolute obedience. With the blood rushing in your ears and your body vibrating with nervous excitement, you prop yourself on your hands and knees.
“Lemme know if it’s too much.”
“It’s okay. I can take it. Please… I’ve wanted this for so long, Floyd.”
“I can tell,” he teases, stuffing two fingers inside to open you up. The slick squelch that follows is obscene in the best way. “Shrimpy’s drownin’ my fingers. S’like an ocean.”
You bury your face in the sheets, flustered. “S-Sorry…”
“Nothin’ wrong with it. I’ve been wantin’ ya, too.” To prove this point, he seizes your hips and tugs you towards his waiting cock. It throbs against your bare cunt, and it’s so much more lewd without a rubber preventing you from feeling every prominent vein and thick inch. “I’ve always wanted you, but you never saw me.”
“You have? Do you really mean that or—”
Your question is promptly punched out of you when the fleshy head of his cock prods at your pussy, gradually pushing through rings of muscle. Inches are swallowed in slow seconds, and you suck in a sharp breath as his girth fills you. Floyd seems just as affected by the sheer bliss provided by your joined bodies, grunting behind you while your velvety heat wraps snugly around his cock. His fingers dig into your hips. Much like the stretch, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as you imagined it might. It’s only awkward for the first few seconds, in which you and Floyd are both adjusting to every addictive sensation all at once.
“All good?”
You hum your approval, your head spinning. He’s inside me… And it’s not a dream.
“W-What about you?”
“Never been better,” he answers with a delirious cackle. “S’nice and soft inside. Cozy.”
He moves casually, experimental for all of one minute, before he draws back and snaps forwards. You’re pressed into the mattress when he bottoms out, the breath knocked out of your lungs in one fell swoop. Shakily, you force yourself back onto your arms. You don’t stay upright for very long, though, because the pace he adopts is brutal and unabating. As if he’s waited forever for this moment. As if you might never come back if he doesn’t pound you into the bed right now.
As if the world beyond his room is crumbling to pieces and this will be the only time either of you will ever have to love one another in solitude before horrible, heart-wrenching destruction.
A confession is so far from your mind with every sinful slap of skin on skin, and any coherent words you may have hoped to produce are replaced with loud love cries. When you fantasized about rolling around in bed with Floyd, you often imagined something soft and slow—a passionate build-up to inevitable climax. But this is nothing like that. This is raw and filthy and fast. And it’s so much better than the delusional masquerade you entertained with the phony Floyd.
Why did I ever rely on Jade in the first place? you think absently, clutching the sheets in curled fists. Floyd continues to fuck into you with reckless abandon, hunched over you as if you’re a prisoner groveling for mercy and he’s your beloved executioner.
Only rather than clean, cutthroat slaughter, you’re granted love in loads. It’s physical and sweaty and sticky. It has tears brimming your lash line and blurring your vision each time he hits all the right spots. It takes all of the complicated feelings you experienced while navigating an impossible situationship with Jade and dissolves them into nothing. Because with Jade it was wrong. It was a foolish, fickle farce. One too many meaningless trysts. A dangerous game spiraling out of control.
But with Floyd it’s right. Your world, once so off-kilter, corrects itself when he pins you down with his body, warm and toned and rough, and spears you with his cock. He’s your sweet Floyd, capriciousness and all, perfect in a way you just can’t explain.
And so you surrender to rising euphoria, strung along like fresh linens billowing in a breeze.
Amidst your own moans, Floyd’s groans, and the noisy plap of his hips against your soft ass, you make a mental note to end your arrangement with Jade at your earliest convenience. After all, you don’t need the fake when you have the real one.
I’ll miss his cooking, though.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Shrimpy?”
“No one in particul—aah!”
Floyd pinches your thigh good-naturedly. “No one at all?” His hand sweeps across your stomach next, palming the area as if he’s trying to feel himself buried in your guts. “You thinkin’ about that guy you like?”
“What if I was?”
“A damn shame for him,” he says, his hips stuttering to a halt. His hands make their rounds along your body, touring every inch of your nudity. You can’t see his face, but you can feel his searing gaze. “That guy’s not inside ya, is he?”
“Not physically, no.”
“What? Is he livin’ rent-free in Shrimpy’s head or somethin’?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Tell him to get lost. I wanna live up there.”
You giggle. “Will you pay rent?”
“Course I will.” He resumes his pace after a moment, albeit at a lazy, back-and-forth drag. You whine like a whore in heat, craving more than a slow, steady filling. “Bet that other guy isn’t even all that. Not a good rent-payer like me. Suuuper irresponsible and stuff. Late on his payments, y’know?”
“Mm, he’s perfect. Everything and more,” you mumble, your thoughts scrambled like eggs. It’s Jade you picture with your next admission even though you mean to describe Floyd. “He’s actually so charming once you—ooh—get to—haa—get to know him… He annoys me, but I don’t mind it.”
“Yeah?”
He grips your hips tighter, lifts your ass higher, and drives home in one rough thrust. His hold on you prevents you from crumpling, his fingers digging deep and leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake. Your lashes flutter, eyes on the verge of rolling back into your skull.
“Mhm…”
“Hee-hee. Shrimpy’s so cute, falling apart on my dick… Bet that guy can’t do all of this.”
“Not at all! He can’t compare to you.”
Even though you don’t intend to, you envision Jade’s rictus grin then—the one he’d given you that night in the lounge kitchen when you challenged him to a dance. He’s so strange, but it’s a fun sort of strange. A strange that keeps you on edge, teetering on a precarious peak. He’s a deep-sea predator beneath that human veneer, cunning and crafty in spades, and he kissed you like he was in love that night.
It’s not love. It’s purely convenience, you remind yourself, stern. You like Floyd, and Jade isn’t Floyd.
“Jade—” you start to say, only to save yourself at the last minute— “Is… Mm—aah… Is Jade gonna be back soon?”
“Nah. S’just me and Shrimpy today.”
Shame sparks in your chest. What am I doing, calling out for Jade when Floyd’s here? I must be going crazy. I need to break it off as soon as possible.
You’ve been infatuated with Floyd for over a year now. One year of loyally loving Floyd. Not Jade. It’s never been and will never be Jade.
Chasing those conflictions away, you crawl out of your head to focus on the present. You push back against Floyd’s hips with bolstered determination, boring down on his dick to meet each of his wild thrusts. Within minutes, he’s all you can think of, flooding your brain like a tsunami. You’ve never felt so full and whole before—so connected. Carnal lust or romantic attraction aside, it doesn’t matter right now. Not when you’re swimming in bliss. Not when your emptiness has finally been filled.
All those tireless months of pining and hoping—it’s as if all of that was worth it when your wishes are granted in this very room. Even if you feel just somewhat clumsy with your movements, your body acting on its own accord, you’re relishing every second, sound, and sensation. So much so that you’re crying beneath him, overwhelmed beyond belief. Distantly, you hear him cooing at you, his voice a pleasant rumble.
You never want to come down from this seventh heaven, and you won’t because every moment spent with Floyd is utter rapture.
Floyd fucks you within an inch of unconsciousness, battering your slick, sensitive cunt like he intends to incapacitate you. The bedroom is filled with a sinful symphony of sounds, a litany of filth so loud you’re certain it can be heard down the hall. But that’s the last thing on your mind when the bundled feeling in your lower abdomen becomes unbearable, tightly wound and knotted. You strangle the sheets in shaking fists, tears falling freely.
And then, after leaning over you and getting as close as he possibly can, he wraps his hands around your neck. You startle.
“W-What’s wrong?”
“You sure there’s nothing between you and Jade?”
“Wha—no! Of course not! We’re just friends.”
“I dunno…” His fingers flex and curl inwards to apply just a little pressure. Your body stiffens, but it’s your pussy that betrays you when it clenches involuntarily. Floyd shudders against you, inhaling deeply. “You’re always smellin’ like him. Your pretty perfumes don’t do a good job coverin’ it up.”
You groan, not in the mood for this conversation. “Seriously… What is with you and smells? I’ve always smelled like me, haven’t I?”
“Can’t help it if us morays have a killer sense of smell.”
“Is it really that bothersome?”
“Would be if this was the sea.” He grips your throat with more force. Not enough to hurt you, but it has your heart spiking up into your mouth. “Guess on land it’s kinda like if you saw your special someone with another person and they were wearin’ the same shirt.”
You picture it then: Floyd with someone who isn’t you.
“Oh.”
“Yeaaah. Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Then—” you’re cut off when his hands constrict, perilous like pythons— “Floyd—”
“Say you wanna smell like me instead. I’ll make you smell real nice.”
His phrasing doesn’t indicate there’s a choice in this matter, but you don’t need to waste time deliberating. Even though you don’t intend to stall, you can’t stop yourself. The question that’s been nagging at you ever since Jade shared insight on the matter—it tumbles free.
“What does smell mean to a moray? Is it—it’s like a tracker, right?”
“You’re halfway there, yeah.” His hips connect with your cushy ass, and his grip cuts into your airflow. The muscles in your neck twitch beneath his fingertips, survival instincts seizing hold. Your breath rattles in your lungs. “S’like makin’ it known. Like tellin’ everyone you’re together. Becomin’ a pair’s real special in the sea.”
A pair…
You want to ask about the significance in that statement—about the implications of togetherness and how that might apply to merfolk. Jade gave you glimpses during previous conversations, and ever since you’ve been wrangling with wanting to know more or keeping your curiosity to yourself. You could ask him, but you’re very acquainted with his smart mouth and his proclivity for stirring up unnecessary trouble. It’s better to hear it from Floyd.
But right now breathing is imperative.
“I want—need you… P-Please,” you rasp, blinking back tears.
It doesn’t hurt, but the pressure fills your head with fuzz. Combined with the agonizing drag of his dick within your walls, it feels almost freeing. Like he’s just pulled you out of your own mind to rejoice in the present with you.
“Promise you’ll be mine. Promise…” His voice wavers, and suddenly he sounds distraught. Fragile like an eroding sandcastle, he adds, “Promise you won’t look at him ever again…”
“I’m yours. I’m all yours.”
His hands linger for a moment longer before he releases you, content with your agreement. You inhale mouthfuls of precious, much-needed oxygen, but part of you misses the rough treatment and the feeling of his hands tightening around your throat. The idea that Floyd once held your life between his palms—that he could crush your windpipe if he so pleased—is monstrously minacious. You know you shouldn’t put your trust in Floyd’s capricious, hair-trigger behaviors, but you’ve already disregarded the risks. Safe sex be damned; you want to know love under the pressure of his thumbs, squeezed into you like he’s your only other source of air. Your savior and your star—forever your Floyd.
His lips replace his hands, stamped impatiently into your nape in bloody bites. Ribbons of warmth trickle between your shoulder blades. His hips don’t halt for a second, and it stokes the fire deep within your belly with potent insistence.
“F-Floyd, please—I’m close! I—”
“I know, Shrimpy. I gotcha.” He rubs your hip encouragingly and that’s all it takes to sweep you up in the titillating throes.
You reach your summit in the clouds with an erotic shout, your vision whiting out and arms going slack. Floyd’s groan sounds much the same when your walls clench down, and he fucks you through it mercilessly. In just a few more erratic, sloppy thrusts, in which he drives his cock as far as it can possibly go, Floyd finally empties his load deep inside. The moan that rips free from his throat is so guttural it’s nearly a growl.
You’re both so drenched in sweat, but you’re alive and vibrating with giddy, sex-drunk relief.
I love you so much, you think as you ebb away from ecstasy, pulled back like the tide.
Basking in the paradisiacal afterglow of orgasm, Floyd runs a hand through disheveled teal locks. The two of you, the sodden sheets, and even the room reeks of sex. His other hand holds you in place while he slowly ruts into you from behind, riding out the buzz in its entirety. His pelvis presses against your ass while you, knock-kneed and fucked full, drool into the pillows.
And when he slides out his spend drips from your pussy in pearly rivulets.
“Haa… Shrimpy’s the best,” he murmurs with a wicked, wild, wide-eyed smile.
You’re still panting when you come back to yourself, your head pressed into the pillow. Floyd nudges you over onto your back, and you oblige with minimal effort, lying in an exhausted sprawl. Your sight clears, color spilling in through bleary cracks.
He leans over you, assessing your hazy expression with a pleased hum. “Welcome back.”
You giggle and beckon him closer. “I’m back.”
Floyd leans down to kiss you and you reciprocate just as fiercely, your arms looping around his neck. You fall all over again, enchanted by molten kisses and wandering hands. The magic dissipates when your ringtone resounds, and you manage to tear yourself away by the third chime.
“Sorry. Let me silence it.”
“Kaaay.”
Floyd lounges on his side, the duvet draped across his hips. You crawl out of his arms to sort through the disorder on the floor. As you bend over to retrieve it, you catch him staring, his eyes following the length of your legs to the mess spattered between your thighs.
He flashes his sharp teeth at you in a broad, nonchalant grin. “It’s a pretty ass. I like what I like.”
You hold your phone up, smirking. “Pictures last longer.”
“And memories don’t, so you’d better stop by often so I won’t forget.”
“It’s a promise,” you tease, glancing at the screen as it brightens with a slew of missed messages. They’re all from Ace, and you scroll through them with mild interest. Apparently, Ace got into an argument with Grim over the pudding in the fridge. Both want it even though it has your name on it, and now Ace is being much too flattering in an effort to curry favor so that you’ll be inclined to let him have it. “He’s unbelievable…”
“Who is?”
“Ace.”
You sit on the edge of Floyd’s bed. He reads the texts over your shoulder and snorts. “Crabby tryin’ to get on your good side, huh?”
“Not sure why he’s bothering to ask, though. He steals food from me all the time. This shouldn’t be any different.”
“Maybe he likes ya.”
“As if. We’re just friends.”
“Yeah? You say that a lot.”
You crane your neck to look at him. “Do I really?”
“Mhm. If you and Jade are also ‘just friends,’ what does that make me and you?”
“I… Um. Hm.”
You watch your reflection on your darkened phone screen as it twists into something pensive. Tentatively, your fingers trace over the smooth glass. What are you and Floyd? You’re friends, but you’re also more than that. Surely, right? Friends don’t join their bodies in unholy communion. Or do they? That’s what you’ve done with Jade and you’re nowhere near romantically attached. Perhaps your relationship is some nebulous stage between friends and lovers?
Does Floyd even like me like that, or was this just a spur-of-the-moment fling?
“I…should go,” you say instead, standing up.
“Aww. But ya just got here. C’mon. Lemme get ya some water or somethin’ to eat. There’s no rush.” He reaches out for you, but you step back. His face falls. “Shrimpy…”
“Sorry. I just—it’s not your fault.” You refuse to meet his eyes as you collect your clothes from the floor, hurrying to dress yourself. “Thanks for the offer. Really, I appreciate it and this was a lot of fun. But I… I need to get back to make sure Ace and Grim don’t tear each other apart over a single cup of pudding.”
The fresh bites on your neck sting when your clothes brush against them, but nothing hurts more than Floyd’s downcast expression. You don’t want to leave, but you can’t stay and tiptoe around the answer to a question you’ve just started contemplating.
“We’ll talk later. Sorry…” You shuffle towards the door, tongue-tied and awkward. “I really did enjoy this.”
To your disappointment, Floyd doesn’t make any attempt to pursue. “See ya.”
“Yeah… See ya.”
You step out into the hall, the door shutting after you. The weight of it all comes crashing down like a disastrous surge of sea and you drag your hands over your face to stifle your regretful groan.
I messed up. I should’ve just confessed. The opportunity was right there, so why didn’t I? Why can’t I? What the hell is holding me back?
No, not a what. Rather, a who.
And you can’t bear to confront that.
Behind the door, sitting upright on Floyd’s bed, Jade musses his hair until that stray dark strand falls in its rightful place. There’s laundry to be done, and a clever cover-up must be fashioned to protect what already seems like an open secret. But right now he can’t be bothered to spring into action. Not when he’s still steeping in post-sex exhilaration, a corybantic smile etching itself onto his face.
It’s a glorious day.
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“Can’t ya just dump it out if ya don’t wanna drink it?” Grim, who has spent the past three minutes observing you observing the glass vial, suggests with a harrumph. “Looks fishy. I don’t wanna drink it and I love drinkin’ stuff!”
You frown and lift it towards the window; the sun catches off the shiny surface, but its rays don’t break through murky cerulean. “Azul said I could add any part of myself to this and it would work. I added saliva, but the color went from white to this icky, impenetrable blue. It probably tastes just as bad as it looks. Gross! Now I’m not so sure I wanna uphold my end of our deal.”
“He’ll never know if you give it the slip.”
You fix Grim with a disapproving glower. “He’ll definitely know. He’s Azul.”
“I dunno what to tell ya, but if we keep chattin’ away like this we’ll miss first bell.” He hops off of the stool, lands perfectly on all fours, and struts out of the kitchen.
“Since when were you such a star student? Wait… First bell?” You gasp and dash past him. “Move, Grim! I’ll miss Floyd if I don’t hurry!”
On your way out, you tug your shoes on, taking care not to trip in your haste, and stuff the vial in your pocket.
“Jeez! Way to be a ‘star student’ and leave me to haul our heavy textbooks to Trein’s class!”
“Sorry! I’ll make it up to you at lunch! This is really important!” you call out, hurrying down the steps.
You’re breathless by the time you make it into the main building, taking in great gulps of air. A few students turn and stare, but you don’t pay them any mind as you weave through the crowded halls in search of Floyd’s classroom. You spot him then, lingering at the end of the corridor, and you hasten your gait to reach him.
“Floyd, oh, there you are! I need to talk to you. It’s about—”
“A good morning to you, too, (Name).”
Horrified, you come to a screeching halt. “Jade… Shit, I’m sorry. I thought that you—I mean, you look like Floyd from afar… Well, of course you do. What am I saying?” Inhaling a deep breath, you try again. “I don’t have time to talk. I gotta find Floyd. Also, our deal’s off. You don’t have to act like him anymore.”
“Oh my. How sudden. I wonder what brought this on.” He smiles behind a gloved fist. “Do enlighten me.”
Fidgeting from foot to foot, you glance left and right. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done. You’ve been a big help, but I’ve figured it out now. It was stupid and inconsiderate of me to make you pretend to be someone you’re not. So the game’s over. We can go our separate ways and all of this—” you gesture between him and you— “will be behind us. Done and dusted. Dead and buried. Part of the past.”
Jade tilts his head, playing clueless for another second before he decides to let it click. “Ah. I suppose this means you intend to confess? In that case, please don’t let me stop you. Floyd’s already left for his class. I doubt he’s gone very far.”
You’re already pushing past him, your nerves riddled with hope. “Thanks! See you around!”
“It was an enjoyable month.”
Taking pause, you turn to look at him. Even though his hand is across his chest and he’s issuing you a cordial smile, you can’t tell if he’s being truthful. It can’t have been all that enjoyable to play such an elaborate part. Or perhaps it’s not the part but rather the delights that came with it: dinner, conversation, and companionship. If it weren’t for these unorthodox methods, you and Jade wouldn’t be nearly as close as you are now.
Somehow you’ve become friends in all of this chaos.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure. It was definitely…a month.”
Before awkwardness can balloon between the both of you, you step into a sprint and disappear around the corner. Confidence swells within you. Now that you’ve emptied your mind of Jade, you can focus entirely on Floyd and your very impromptu confession.
There really wasn’t anything there after all, you think as you round another corner. I can’t believe I got worked up over something so silly, and it was completely nonexistent!
As if foretold by fate itself, a meeting strung in the stars, you notice Floyd at the end of the hall. Unable to contain yourself, you run the rest of the way to catch him. The morning bell resounds then and students heed its toll, filing into their respective classrooms. But you’re here for someone who’s so much better than your perfect attendance record, and he happens to be looking your way.
“Hey, it’s Shrimpy! Whatcha up to?”
“Morning, Floyd! Do you have a minute? I was hoping we could talk.”
He nods. “Wasn’t really feelin’ class anyways.”
“Yeah, same here!”
“So what’s up? You have somethin’ to tell me?”
“Right! Yes!”
I have to tell him. I can’t keep running away.
“It’s about that day… Um. I… First of all, I’d like to apologize for being weird and ruining the mood. I didn’t know how to explain our relationship, but I’ve sorted it out now. And if it’s okay with you, I’d like to be more than friends.”
Floyd blinks at you, stone-faced. That can’t be a good sign.
Endeavoring to salvage this one-sided chat, you attempt to elaborate on your previous declaration. “You asked what we were that day and I… I couldn’t give you an answer because I was scared of admitting it, and I had no idea where we’d go from there. The truth is—I really like you. A lot. I have for a while now, and if you like me I wouldn’t mind making it official.”
You’re doing fine, you tell yourself, but you’re wringing your hands and Floyd won’t stop looking at you like you’ve grown fins.
“Oh, I get it,” he says after a long moment. “So Shrimpy likes me? That right?”
You nod. Anxiety squeezes your heart in a fierce fist.
“I’m flattered. Not every day a li’l Shrimpy tells me she’s got a thing for me.” Floyd grins and stuffs his hands in his pockets. You’ve imagined this same scenario a dozen times, but your brain never accounted for how casual he’s acting. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t accept your feelings.”
“W-What?”
You…misheard him, right? He didn’t just say that, did he?
“I think you’re super cool, but that’s it.” He shrugs. “S’better stayin’ friends, ain’t it? ’Sides, you and Jade are pretty close. Not gonna lie, I thought you were a pair this whole time. Didn’t know it was this serious, though.”
Much like the blood pumping through your veins, your heart freezes over. “N-No… No, not at all! Jade and I are just friends.”
“C’mon, Shrimpy. I’m not stupid.”
“I… I don’t understand. Floyd, we… We…” You swallow encroaching tears and bolster the ebbing strength in your voice. “Did our time together mean anything to you?”
“Course it did! Still does. We’re friends. That’s not gonna change.” Floyd cards a hand through his hair and sighs. “Shrimpy, you’re great and all, but if you’re with Jade you don’t gotta lie to me. I’ve been smellin’ him on ya since day one.”
“But we’re not together!” He raises a disbelieving brow, and you groan. “I’m serious. I don’t know why I smell like him. We don’t wear the same perfumes. Wait. Does Jade even wear perfume? I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk about it. So maybe you’re just smelling my perfume! That has to be the reason—”
Floyd gives your shoulder a consoling squeeze. “I’m not mad or anything. S’cool if you wanna mess around with Jade. I don’t care what you do.” His face darkens with a frown. “Just don’t lie about the obvious.”
“But I’m not lying! We’re not an item or couple—whatever it’s called! I… I like you, Floyd. I always have.”
“Maybe ya shoulda figured that out before ya started lettin’ Jade mark ya.”
Shock and revulsion prickle your skin. You open your mouth to object, but every rational explanation remains jumbled. Floyd issues you a lopsided grin, which adds even more salt to an already gaping wound.
“Hey, if it makes ya feel any better, Jade’s a good guy. He’ll look out for ya. ’Sides, Shrimpy’s better off with a responsible type.” He reaches out to ruffle your hair, but you step away.
All of those times where you thought Floyd may have been courting—the flirty remarks, the perfume, the kiss, and even the sex—were those merely platonic gestures twined with friendly affection? You may have been able to believe the others, but you’re certain there’s a line between platonic and romantic. And sex must fall in the latter category. It has to. If not, was it all just temporary, fleeting fun?
Were you just an experience for Floyd and his mercurial mannerisms? A new toy for his enjoyment, intended to occupy his mind for however long you proved your worth and shelf life.
You turn swiftly on your heel, your throat closing up. “T-Thanks for hearing me out, at least,” you mutter, blinking away hot tears. “I… I’ll see you later.”
If you weren’t so devastated, you’d have commended yourself for your impeccable restraint. You manage to walk away without sparing him a single glance, but the minute you’re out of sight and earshot you’re running through the desolate halls, seeking solace in solitude. The tears come with the ache, a pain so gutting it has you near-wailing as you navigate labyrinthe passages. You hardly care if any straggling students spot you. You’re too crestfallen to fret over what others might think when they look at you.
Heartache headlines your thoughts as you stumble into a stagger, your chest heaving from the run and your excessive bawling.
I know it was stupid to have hope, but I was so positive I had a chance… It seemed that way when we slept together, so what happened? What changed? You wipe furiously at your face, but it does nothing to stop the incessant downpour. This is a mess. I never should’ve confessed. I did everything wrong. And what’s worse is he didn’t take me seriously because he thinks I’m dating his brother!
It doesn’t make any sense, but then this drastic change of heart is so characteristic for Floyd that you struggle to think of any other valid causation.
Did he get bored of me? Am I really that terrible to hang out with? You shake your head. It’s not that. It’s Jade and his stupid scent and that stupid marking and—
You feel the vial in your pocket then, straining against form-fitting fabric. Sniffling weakly, you dig it out and peer at your blotchy-eyed reflection in the glass.
I might as well see what this potion does. I have nothing else to lose, and there’s no way I can go to class looking like this.
As if your body was subconsciously aware of your decision to skip, you find yourself standing in the Mirror Chamber minutes later. Quiet and dimly lit, the room has a certain coldness to it when you venture further inside and approach the Dark Mirror. Your distressed face blinks back at you from the blank surface, and you cringe once you notice the smudges in your makeup.
“I’m such a loser,” you mutter, scrubbing at your cheeks. “Crying like a baby over some guy…”
A guy who meant the world to me. A guy who was so much more than just some guy.
You yank the cork out of the vial and, steeling yourself, chug it in one determined gulp. It goes down bitter, tainting your tongue with a foul, brackish aftertaste. Disgusted, you wipe your lips and stuff the empty glass in your pocket.
“(Name)?”
You whirl, half-expecting to find Floyd waiting to accept you with open arms. Instead, Jade stands in the doorway. His brows are knit in concern. Authentic concern, you realize. Tears overflow at the sight of him, tracking down your cheeks in salty streaks.
“I do hope I’m not intruding.”
“You are. Go away.”
Undeterred, Jade covers the distance to reach you. “My apologies. I couldn’t help but notice you seem to be in dire need of a friend.”
You force out a sardonic laugh. “Right. Because you’re just the friend I want.”
“At the very least, may I offer my condolences? I can only assume the worst after seeing the state you’re in.”
“You just did. Now leave. I don’t want to see anyone right now, especially not you.” But he isn’t offended by the hostility in your voice. Rather, he procures a handkerchief from his uniform pocket and offers it to you. Heaving a defeated groan, you snatch it and blow your nose into the soft linen. “I don’t suppose you want something in return for your kindness?”
“Not at all. If anything, I merely wish to see your happy, dry face.”
You roll your eyes. “I’ll feel much better once you get lost.”
“And leave you to mourn all by your lonesome? I couldn’t possibly.”
You dab at your eyes with the sodden, snotty handkerchief. “It’s not funny.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” Jade smiles and bumps hips with you. “If it’s worth anything, there is so mush-room in my heart for you.”
Your face scrunches with odium. “Ew… That’s so cheesy.” You’re reminded of Floyd when you look at him, and it fills you with another bout of anguish. Why can’t he be Floyd? You bury your face in your hands and sob. “This is the worst! I wanna disappear. Drown in the Coral Sea and get lost forever. Then no one would ever have to see me like this and I’ll never have to face Floyd again.”
“Surely you don’t mean that.”
“I do. Now leave me be. I wanna wallow in peace.” When you fail to hear his shoes clicking against tile, you peek at him through the cracks in your fingers. “It’s hopeless, Jade. Floyd doesn’t feel the same. There’s still no way for me to go home. And now I don’t even know if Azul’s potion is going to work, which means I’ll be breaching our contract!”
“Quite the series of unfortunate events, no?”
“So please just go away.”
Sighing, you press your fingertips to the Dark Mirror’s warped surface and admire the ripples spreading outward from where your palm rests. It’s almost hypnotic, drawing you in with its alluring opacity. You lean closer to inspect the cloudy mirage, placing both hands against it, but that proves to be a grave mistake. Tugged in by some invisible force, you stumble and fall through. You don’t have time to scramble to safety, for there’s a blinding flash of light and then you’re engulfed in smothering silence.
You feel it first—the weightless cradling of waves—and when you open your eyes a stunning seascape greets you. The sandy floor and colorful coral reefs extend in endless stretches. Schools of fish pass overhead in a mosaic of hues. You gape at your mystical surroundings, realize you’re underwater right as the awe settles in, and hurry to swim to the surface. But when you try to kick your legs out, a tail moves instead, sloppily propelling you upwards. You somersault and flail like you’re falling, but you aren’t drowning. In fact, you can breathe.
Whoa. This is so strange. How exactly do I swim?
It takes an awkward minute for you to get a hold of your bearings, but once you do you take stock of your newfound mer anatomy. Your hands are webbed, fingers curling into sleek, sharp claws, and fins protrude from your arms and back. They flutter like fine skirts in the current. Your tail is just as fetching; speckled with red and pink shades, it matches the coloration found on your other fins.
“So that’s what Azul’s potion does,” you mutter, flexing your tail. “Amazing…”
You feel along your body for scales and gills, yelping when your fingers brush over the latter. They’re soft and sensitive, shuddering in the current.
I’m a mer…
It finally sinks in, and you roll around in the sand, whooping and shouting in excitement.
“I’m a mer! How cool is that?!”
You push off from the sea floor, testing your new tail with a few clumsy strokes. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t take very long for you to learn the motions. Within minutes you’re gliding through the water like a bullet. You hug the bottom of the ocean, running your fingers through the sand as you swim expert circles around the same rock formation.
Suddenly, your broken heart doesn’t feel so cumbersome anymore. Your tears mix in pelagic waters, but after touring your vast surroundings for a while you can’t even tell if you’re still crying. While keeping up with the current, you swim past an octopus who drags itself across the sandy floor, its muddy-orange tentacles curling like snakes.
“So pretty,” you whisper, smiling sadly. “I wish Floyd was here…”
It hurts.
There’s no way to circumvent the pain without further opening the emotional lacerations left by rejection and misunderstanding. If you had smelled like yourself, would he have accepted your confession? Would the two of you be walking through the halls, holding hands and chatting like a couple? Or would it have played out the same regardless of Jade’s involvement with you?
If Floyd never loved you to begin with, that would mean all of your practice confessions and subsequent embarrassment were for naught. Maybe Jade was right and this entire thing was nothing more than an amusing spectacle.
Thanks a lot, Jade, you think, seething. Instinctively, you scrub your tears away even though there’s no point to it when you’re surrounded by water. How did I even start smelling like him in the first place? We didn’t wear the same shirt or anything like that… Ugh. Morays are so confusing.
But, gripe and whine as you might, there’s nothing you can do to change an immutable fact: Floyd does not love you.
And it really hurts.
You know the sadness will soon subside and, months later, you’ll look back on this very moment and laugh about your misfortune. Despite that, the passage of time and its healing properties don’t provide an iota of relief.
Don’t think about it anymore. You turn over on your back and float through the water. Since I’m here, I should gather the supplies Azul wanted.
You rack your brain for the list and come up empty. It’s then when you realize Azul never shared this list with you and that, had you visited him prior to your emotional tragedy, he likely would have told you.
“Damn it! Now how am I supposed to get what he wants?” you complain, thrashing your tail as if it’s your legs and you’re trying to throw a tantrum. “I could guess… Or maybe he wants a little of everything?”
You attempt to put yourself in Azul’s head, concentrating on all of the spell ingredients you’ve learned in alchemy class, but none of them seem to fit what Azul might be seeking. After all, anyone can acquire seaweed and shells and mer’s tears. Azul must be after the scarcities of the sea. What those scarcities could be, you haven’t the faintest inkling.
The sea floor slopes down, and you follow the dip towards what looks to be the yawning mouth of an underwater grotto. It certainly looks so with its massive stalactites and stalagmites, which reminds you of the crooked maw of a beast. It would have been a foreboding sight if you came down here with a limited supply of oxygen and scuba fins, but you’re a mer and nothing can startle you. Not even the depths at which you exist.
You poke your head inside the opening. Before you can investigate any further, though, a shadow passes overhead. It slips through the water like a silent assassin. You’re not unnerved when you track the length of the perimeter, looking to and fro for the mysterious figure you caught in your peripheral, but the longer you spend looking the quieter your surroundings become.
The fish scatter.
And then terror descends, only he’s a familiar one. He’d be a sight for sore eyes if he wasn’t such an eyesore.
“You’re living up to your surname.”
He smiles, teeth glinting. “My, my. Aren’t you just tickled pink?”
“Which is weird because all I see is red when I look at you.”
“Is that so? The depth at which we’re at swallows most vibrancy, and yet you remain wonderfully bright. Are you sure you’re not a fallen star?”
You fix him with a nasty glare, but it does nothing to deter him. “Seriously… Why are you here?”
He circles you, his serpentine body winding slowly. “Would you believe me if I told you I came to check on you?”
“Depends. What’s your reason for checking on me?”
“As I’m sure you know, Azul is not partial to insolvency.”
You slide past him, smacking him with your caudal fin. “Good to know I’m so cherished.”
“I wouldn’t dare let a dear friend drown. I’ve heard drowning is very miserable business for humans.”
“More miserable than a broken heart?”
He catches up to you. His size easily overtakes you in length and strength, marking him as a formidable predator. Even with your claws, you can’t compete with his pointed teeth, sleek, sturdy build, and razored fins. He’s a natural hunter, whereas you feel like more of an ornamental fish in comparison.
“Depends. Will you recover from death?”
“I’ve spent so much time with you, so I’d say it’s possible.”
“And I was ready to save you should you find yourself in peril.”
You roll your eyes. “That’s about as comforting as a blatant lie.”
A few beats pass between the both of you. You don’t try to fill the silence, too busy fawning over your aquatic surroundings to bother. Jade analyzes you with furtive glimpses.
“I’m aware our deal is void and that I’m no longer your Floyd…” He swims closer, nudging you with his shoulder. “May I be your Jade instead? You can be my grouper.”
“Your what?”
“Many mages believe transformation potions provide insight into what species you may have been if you weren’t born in your current form.”
“So you’re saying, if I was a mer like you and Floyd, I’d be a…grouper? Is that what I am?”
“A strawberry grouper, to be precise. Very fitting, is it not?”
“Would Floyd like me better if I had been born a grouper instead of a human?”
Jade laughs. You swat at him in flustered retaliation. “It has nothing to do with species.”
“It has everything to do with species,” you snap with a scowl. “Wasn’t the mermaid princess forbidden from pursuing a relationship with her human prince?”
“That’s true, yes. Although I fail to see your point, considering it worked out in the end.”
“What I’m saying is—if we were both mers, maybe it’d be easier.”
“I suppose it would be considerably easier to foster a deeper bond if you lived in the sea alongside us, but I’m afraid love doesn’t always work like that.”
“How would you know?”
Jade gazes heavenward, and for the first time you see sadness in his sharp, intelligent eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with the moon and she is forever out of my reach, so I know what it’s like to wish on something that may never happen. Sometimes I catch myself wondering if the dismal nature of my situation would change if I had been the singular star in her universe. Perhaps then she would finally see me.” He glances at you and attempts a smile. “There are galaxies of stars up there, but the star she fancies happens to shine brighter than me.”
Oh… So he does know what that feels like.
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever for?”
“I don’t know. I guess it just felt like the right thing to say.” Your shoulders rise in a weak shrug. “The moon is impossible, Jade. Your romance is doomed.”
“All the more reason to appreciate her.”
“Why haven’t you given up?”
Jade swims ahead, humming his contemplation. “There are astounding amounts of everything in this world. There will always be plenty of fish in the sea—just as there will always be plenty of humans on land. But there is only one of her. So even if she doesn’t look at me, even if our romance has been doomed from the start, I will never stop loving her. She’s the only one in my universe.”
“Huh… That’s a beautiful way to put it. If it’ll help, I can act like her and you could practice your confession.”
“We’ve come full circle. Perhaps a confession wouldn’t hurt… Ah. Forgive me for adding to your despondency with my own woes.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” But then you reflect on his familiar phrasing and a sneaking suspicion crawls into your head. Unwilling to confront it, you change the subject. “So what’s the real reason you’re here? To watch me struggle to collect all of these unnamed things for Azul?”
“I considered that, but it would be much too cruel of me to subject you to such ridicule.”
“You’re an asshole. Just tell me what I’m supposed to get.”
With a chuckle, Jade rattles off every item. You recognize some of them—pearls, starfish, a Great White’s tooth—but the rest are resources you’ve never even heard of.
“Noctiluca… What’s that?”
“Bioluminescent algae.”
“Oh. Are you sure we’ll be able to find all of this stuff? Some of it sounds, like, super rare.”
“It’s possible. With me as your guide—”
“You’re really going to stick around?”
“And let you swim right into the maw of a predator? I’m not monstrous.”
“You sure you’re not that predator?”
Jade swims ahead, craning his neck to eye you hungrily. His lengthy tail curls around you and squeezes playfully. “Shall I hunt you now and we can determine which of us is the true predator?”
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”
“It’s simply a hypothetical.”
“Why would we even hunt each other in the first place?” You duck down to sift through the silt for shells or, if you’re lucky, a shark’s tooth. “I thought we had something.”
“Do we?”
It’s too late for you to take that back. “We have mutualism,” you correct yourself, pulling a palm-sized pink conch from the sand.
“Some might call that friendship, (Name).”
“Friends with you? As if. You’d trade me for this shell just because it’s funny.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re worth more than one, at least.” Jade joins you on the seabed, his larger, webbed hands searching alongside yours. “Your companionship is invaluable to me.” His hand bumps yours in the sand, blackened fingertips twining with yours.
“You know… Floyd told me something.” You grip his hand tightly to prevent him from retreating. With the way he perks up, muscles stretched taut with anticipation, you don’t think he intends to flee. “He said you’re awfully touchy with me and that you’re not usually like this.”
“You provide me with the most entertaining reactions. Besides—” his voice lowers for effect— “was touch not the foundation of our deal?”
“Not anymore.” You release his hand from your hold and dart forwards. “Although I guess it was kinda pointless. All of that just to be rejected by Floyd in the end.” You round on him once he’s within your proximity, prodding his chest with a claw. “Because now he thinks I’m dating you. Apparently I smell like you. I have no idea what that could mean, but it obviously isn’t a good thing if it’s one of the reasons Floyd turned me down.”
“Plenty of mers scent their partners. It’s territorial—a means of proving to others that they’re a bonded pair. It’s also convenient when they need to locate their beloved in a crowd.”
The conch falls from your hands, floating back to its resting place on the sandy floor. Shocked, you pin him with a wide-eyed stare. “You… You’ve been…scenting me?”
He nods.
“On purpose?”
“Just for fun.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief. So Jade sabotaged your chances with Floyd. Jade did. All for fun. Jade was scenting you on the sly. For fun. Fun!
Now you’re really viewing him in scarlet.
“Jade Leech, I’m going to kill you!” You lunge at him, blunt teeth bared and claws out. He opens his arms to receive you, smiling all the while. “You did that on purpose—to prevent me from getting with Floyd! What the fuck?!”
You crash into him, and the impact sends the two of you tumbling through the water in a tangle of limbs. He indulges in this one-sided snafu, albeit without the hostility you’re so clearly demonstrating. Jade wraps himself around you to hold you still while you attempt to gouge his eyes.
Soon, the scrap mellows out into a struggle for escape. You try to slip out of his constrictive grasp, but every time you think you might have attained freedom he tightens his hold on you. Eventually, with no other way out, you submit, deflating in his arms like a popped balloon.
“If you wanted a hug, you could have asked. There’s no need to be so circuitous about it.”
“The last thing I want is a hug from you! Now let go of me!” He allows you to squirm out of his coils. You swim in circles, which you now realize is the mer equivalent of pacing. “I can’t believe you. What did you have to gain from any of this? ‘Just for fun,’ my foot! You just wanted to ruin my life like the stupid, asshole eel you are!”
“I was hoping to cushion you after the inevitable.” Jade tilts his head at you, feigning sympathy. “Did you really think Floyd would have reciprocated? You heard him yourself. He considers you a friend. Nothing more and nothing less.”
“Cushion me? The only thing you did was make me smell like I rolled around in the cushions with you!” You swipe at him, but he moves away on reflex. “If Floyd sees me as a friend, why would he sleep with me?”
“So that’s why our room smelled so thickly of you.”
“Don’t play dumb.”
“Then don’t ask dumb questions.”
He’s the worst, you think, repeating it like a mantra. The worst. The worst. The worst.
But then he’s the only one who chases after you even when you push him away.
At that, you laugh. Jade blinks at you, startled by your sudden shift in attitude.
“This is a mess,” you bewail, shaking your head. “Out of all the people at NRC, I can’t believe you’re the one seeing me like this.”
“How many times has it been now?”
“Shut up.”
Jade chuckles. “You may find it undesirable, but to me it’s quite the charming trait. Even at your worst, tears and all, you’re still yourself. It’s what I admire most about you.” He approaches you, minding the icy vitriol in your scowl, and cups your cheek. “After all, did we not agree to be a mess together?”
You meet his mismatched stare, openly admiring his well-sculpted body and the patterns striped along his arms and tail. There isn’t an ounce of Floyd to his mannerisms. From the way he carries himself to the purr of his voice to the irritating quips he loves to spout, he’s Jade. And you wouldn’t have him any other way. He is your friend, and denial isn’t enough to convince you otherwise of this dysfunctional, disorganized friendship.
Sighing, you tear your gaze away. “We’re a mess, yeah. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with smelling like you! That’s such a dirty trick!”
“I can be dirtier if it pleases.”
“It does not please! Start counting your blessings so I can properly kick your ass!”
“I wish you luck in that endeavor,” he says, offering you a toothy grin before turning away and propelling himself towards the surface.
You watch him go, debating whether it’s worth it to pursue him. This feels like the beginning of another game, but you can’t calculate the danger level. It’s the ocean; the possibilities are just as vast.
You’re an enigma, Jade Leech. I’ll never understand you.
Leaving all thoughts of Floyd and your shattered heart on land—stowed away in the shadows of the Mirror Chamber—you accept his proposal for a chase. He doesn’t have to tell you he’s pleased when you zip after him, weaving through the tight crevices and openings in hulking rock formations. Your shadow eclipses colorful coral reefs and tall seagrass. Jade moves much smoother and quicker than you, sensing all of the twists and turns before they even come up.
Of course he’d be a natural, you think, impressed with his graceful slither. He grew up in these waters playing tag. He and Floyd have probably chased each other through places just like this one hundreds of times.
Still, you aren’t about to let your inexperience get in the way of capturing him.
Between your on-off hunt and collecting ingredients for Azul, in which Jade goads you into continuing the chase when you least expect it, time passes above. You’re not sure how far into the day you are, as your surroundings hardly change beneath the surface, but you forget all about it when you swim through a kelp forest in hopes of finding a starfish. Even with your heightened mer senses and predatory assets, you keep close to Jade as the both of you glide through strands of kelp.
“When I was an elver, I used to believe starfish were stars who fell from outer space.”
You flinch at the sound of his voice. Everything seems much louder in tranquility. “Oh. Uh. Why’s that?”
“My mother often told us that merfolk who have passed on become stars in the sky and that there are times in which those same stars yearn for the sea. But they can never hope to return naturally, for they are bound to the sky. Thus, they force themselves to fall, lose their shine when they land in the ocean, and become sea stars.”
You keep your eyes glued on the stretching forest ahead. “That’s neat. I probably would’ve believed that story if I was a mer. We tell all kinds of stories about merfolk where I’m from.”
“Is that so?”
“Merfolk don’t exist in my world, so they make for great legends.”
“A world in which merfolk are nonexistent… How fascinating.” Jade gazes at you, his hand twitching towards yours. Rather than acting on his innermost desires, he curls his hand into a fist and it hangs limply at his side. “You must have been over the moon to have met Floyd.”
“And you and Azul!” you add with a smile. “And I have you to thank for teaching me all about moray mers.”
“I’d be happy to teach you more, should you be willing to learn…”
Jade’s looking at your lips next. The both of you are so close. Just a little closer and you could…
“Hey, I think I see a starfish!” You hurry ahead before the tension can become any more magnetizing.
Do not make him your rebound, you lambaste while retrieving the star-shaped creature. If you had legs, you’d kick some sense into yourself. Just because he looks like Floyd doesn’t mean he is Floyd.
You bring the starfish back to Jade, who bottles it in a bubble and whisks it away with a flick of his wrist. You’re not sure where any of these items are going or how he’s keeping track of them, but as long as they’re gathered you aren’t going to question it. Magic works in mysterious ways, or so you’ve determined after spending a year of your life in Twisted Wonderland.
From there, you return to your place at Jade’s side, albeit with a healthier distance than before, and exit the kelp forest. You scan the vast vicinity as if you might find something unusual amidst all of this blue. It reminds you of every Floyd fantasy you’ve ever had—the ones in which you were living happily ever after in the sea. As ideal as those delusions were, you realize now that they were just as impossible as Jade’s infatuation with the moon.
“It wouldn’t have worked anyway,” you admit, to which Jade hums his acknowledgment. “What would I do if Crowley was able to send me home? How could I choose between my loved ones there and my loved ones here?”
“Perhaps you’ll never have to choose.”
“What do you mean?”
“Supposing the headmage is shirking his investigation… Well, that would certainly eliminate the difficulty of choice.”
You laugh. “The first magicless student to graduate from Night Raven College. What a headline.”
“Sensational news,” he adds in a dramatic tone.
“As if the illustrious NRC and the oh-so-kind Headmage couldn’t get any popular.”
Jade chuckles. “Have you thought that far ahead?”
“What? About the future?” You slide into a somersault while Jade swims above you. He stares down at you as you spin yourself dizzy. “Don’t want to. I have no idea where I’ll be after graduation or what I’ll do. It kinda scares me.”
“You’re more than welcome to lean on me should you ever require my assistance.”
“What’s that thing Azul always says? Pay the heavy toll to cross the bridge? I’d like to graduate debt-free, thank you very much.”
“I’ll always be here for you.”
You blink up at him, shocked by his benign declaration. After a moment of floating aimlessly on your back while he swims overheard, you giggle. “Come on. Be real, Jade. That’s impossible.”
“Is it? You’re a mermaid, are you not?”
“Yeah, but that’s temporary. Besides, a deal like that is way too mutualistic. We’d just seem like obligations to one another.”
“Must it be transactional?”
“What else would it be?”
“A friendly favor.”
“I don’t trust that… Somewhere along the line I’ll get trapped in a scam.”
“And I will rescue you.”
You roll your eyes and turn over on your stomach, propelling yourself forwards in hopes of leaving him and this conversation behind. He mirrors your slow pace, twisting himself to loop around so that you’re above and he’s below. He waves. You groan.
He just won’t quit, will he?
“Okay, let’s be hypothetical. Say I accept your help for the future. What would you want in return?”
“What indeed?”
“I doubt you’ll want a lifelong taste-tester.”
He shakes his head, soft, teal locks swaying with the motion. Bathed in dappled light, he looks breathtaking. Too good to be true. An echo of the supernal, enchanting and arresting in that weird, whimsical way you’ve grown to appreciate.
He’s so annoying.
“Then what, Jade? Stop being obtuse.”
He smiles, sharp features softening, and says, “I would like to continue being your friend.”
“That’s all?”
He nods. “That’s all.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, what do you think I might want?” He reaches for you, his hands running up your arms to tug you closer. “If I asked for your hand, would you give it?”
You float above him, not quite chest to chest yet. “Marital mutualism, huh?”
“It’s cost-effective and comes with many benefits.”
“Like?”
“You could be my taste-tester indefinitely. I would cook for you every day. All of your favorite foods, and you can share your critique.”
“You’re not selling it,” you mutter, impassive.
He pulls you within kissing distance. “You can continue to hone your techniques with me.”
You open your mouth to retort, embarrassment scraping at your throat, but a distant twinkle in the dimming depths distracts you. There’s another flash of light and then, seconds later, dozens of lights surround you. You swim out of his grasp to explore this curiosity, your confusion segueing into excitement once you spy hundreds of bright tendrils. Moon jellyfish illuminate the area, casting you and Jade in bewitching bioluminescence. You whirl to view all of them at once, your eyes wide with wonder.
“It’s amazing…” you whisper.
Jade observes you from where he lurks in the shadows below, a wistful look in his stare. It adds deceptive age to his youthful features, but you don’t notice that. Bold and brave, you venture deeper into the fray, weaving through the fantastical cluster with finesse. The jellyfish hang suspended in the gloom, and they remind you of little lanterns the further you swim. This sight is a treasured rarity—something you’d never be able to experience firsthand like this if you were viewing it through thick aquarium glass.
This view is breathtaking! I can’t believe Jade and Floyd grew up in such a wonderful place.
On any other day, the boundless sea may have terrified you if you were reading about it in a textbook or watching divers’ found footage. But right now you’re in awe of these magnificent creatures as they drift in calm currents. Your first visit in the Coral Sea had been on a strict time crunch, and you hadn’t gotten the chance to explore any further than the grounds of the Atlantica Memorial Museum. The second visit had been one of leisure, if only because you were no longer arranging gambles with Azul in an effort to free the anemones. And now you’ve returned, equipped with fins and the promise of unforgettable sights.
And Jade’s with you.
He was there for your previous times, too, his presence mostly unremarkable. While you were loving Floyd from afar, he was there. You’ve always wondered why he stayed and entertained your mischief. You’re not anyone’s dream girl; you’ve never been the first choice, and that’s a part of life you’ve made peace with.
When you’re with Jade, you’re made the first and last choice. The only choice.
“Jade, are you seeing this? It’s so pretty! You’re—” you turn and almost bump heads. He’s so close and— “glowing…”
“My, my. Is that a bona fide compliment?”
“No. I’m serious. You’re glowing!”
He’s something of an angler with his mesmerizing markings. The patterns on his body are bright with a shocking luminosity, so radiant that you lose all interest in the jellyfish. You’re transfixed by him, and it’s purely instinct when you seize his hands to inspect them. He shrinks away, diffident.
“Ah. So it would seem… Forgive me for outshining the jellyfish.”
Your brows furrow. “You’re being weird.” Releasing him, you orbit him like he’s the sun and you’re a spellbound planet. He continues to pack himself into something small. “Are you not supposed to glow?”
“This is a perfectly normal facet of moray mer behavior.”
“So then what’s up? You’re avoiding me.” It hits you then, and a wide grin cuts into your cheeks. “Are you…embarrassed?”
Jade flushes up to his fins. You didn’t think it was possible, but the intensity at which he glows increases. “I fear I may have underestimated my own biology.”
“This is new! Jade Leech acting shy? I never thought I’d live to see the day.”
He forces a hollow chuckle. “I suppose it was inevitable.”
“What was?”
“This is the culmination of any mer’s attraction.”
Your heart stumbles in your chest. “Wait. Is this—does this mean you…”
“When mers wish to mate or attract a mate, they… Well, to be forthright, we glow. Floyd and I are bioluminescent by nature, but this glow is different. Ah, but that much is now apparent…”
You stare at him in all of his coruscating glory. “You want to mate with…me?”
“If you’ll have me.”
“Oh, you’re serious,” you murmur, breathless. Hesitantly, you approach him. “Then can I—may I take a closer look?”
“Please do as you see fit. Body language can’t possibly get any more candid than this now, can it?”
You giggle. “Seems pretty treacherous, too.”
“To think biological imperative would be my undoing…”
Your hand splays across his bicep, tracing the luminous bands wrapped around it. He really is a magnificent merman.
One more game, you promise yourself, restraint as thin as Jade’s lukewarm lies, and we’ll never play again.
“I like it. This is the most honest you’ve ever been with me.”
“Charming, is it not?”
“Very.”
He gathers you in his arms, and you mold yourself to him like you’ve done so many times in the past. You’re taken to the seafloor next, lowered onto the sand amidst wavering seagrass while he presses his pelvis to yours. You scrabble for a handhold on his broad shoulders, arching up into him when he rocks his hips. His tail winds around yours, and he anchors himself to you at the bottom of the sea. Above you, jellyfish swarm. Bulbous and bright, they backdrop Jade like a velvety void of stars and provide enough spotlight for you to see every inch of him. Although with just how much he shines, you wouldn’t even need the jellyfish.
If anything, they just make this tryst even more quixotic than it already is.
“After this—”
You start to speak, but you’re soon silenced when he fits his lips against yours, viciously venereal. Jade’s tongue slips past your parted lips, tangling around yours in a kiss that lasts far too long. Without the need for oxygen, neither of you separates. You throw your arms around him and kiss like you’re starved. Bubbles rise from your joined mouths, produced between gasps and groans. His teeth click against yours, and after minutes of canoodling you finally manage to yank yourself away.
Jade surges forward for another kiss, but you block him with your hand. “H-Hold on…”
“Is everything all right?”
“What will we be after this?”
“What would you like to be?”
You grab his face in both hands and hold him still. Your thumbs brush the markings stamped into his cheekbones. Jade trills at your touch, gills fluttering. A tiny heartbeat thrums beneath your fingertips.
“I… I’m not sure. Is it worth it to label our—this? Whatever this is?”
“Our mess. How does that sound?” His hand covers yours, pulling it away to hold it. “An exclusive dalliance between two.”
Friends with benefits, you think, every sense delirious. Desire feels hotter and heavier than it’s ever been, a puissant swirling in your stomach. You wonder if the potion altered your brain chemistry in some way—temporarily rewired your human instincts to suit that of a mer’s. That’s way too dangerous.
“And you’ll be yourself. You’ll be Jade, right?”
“I wouldn’t be anyone else, my dearest.”
“Let’s not go too far,” you warn, laughing. “Thin ice.”
“Is ‘my dearest’ not to your liking?” He leans in to bestow a chaste kiss to your throat, nuzzling the area right at the juncture between shoulder and neck. “I find it most fitting.”
“It’s…not the worst thing someone’s called me.”
He draws away, his eyes narrowed. “Not the worst? Others call you by delightful endearments?”
“Hmm? Jealous you’re not first?”
“Quite.” A scary smile curves his lips up. “So I’ll resolve to be the first by ridding myself of those inconsequential barnacles who think it wise to stick to you.”
“Wooow. How fearsome. But I’m just kidding. No one’s called me anything like that before…”
“So I’m the first?” he asks, proudly puffing his chest out.
“Yeah, yeah. Gloat all you want.”
“Gloat I shall. It’s tremendously gratifying to be your first.” Unlike his usual smiles, this one is pure and jubilant. There are no secrets concealed within, nor does he hide his teeth. “How fortunate I am to be here with you. To have met you. To bask in you…”
His eyes flutter shut as he grinds against you with more force, and you hiss out a soft moan when his slit, sticky with slick, slides against yours. Jade sighs, digging his claws into the sand to ground himself above you, and slips into a slow, gentle pace. You study his contorting features as he rubs himself against you, his brows furrowing and mouth dropping open in a tiny ‘o’ shape.
“You’re so sensitive,” you remark, toying with his quivering gills. Your fingers dip inwards to feel the spongy filaments, and he shudders through a low whine.
“Ah, yes… Mm, I suppose…I am.” His yellow eye is alight with lust when he cracks it open to peer at you. “I confess I’ve wanted this for a while.”
You shouldn’t push it any further than you already have, for you know the dangers that accompany the truth. You shouldn’t instill false hope in Jade when he’s already so hopeful, and you definitely shouldn’t play his game when you’re very aware of what waits for you at the end.
You shouldn’t, but you do.
“I can tell. I’ve only touched you here, but you’re already unraveling.”
“Then allow me to return the favor.”
You squeal when his claws drag along your gills, his touch careful despite his intentions. When he looks at you next, it’s as if he’s readying himself to devour you. He curls his fingers like an expert and you writhe beneath him, your lips parting in muted moans. Flustered, you attempt a glare, but it falls short.
“Now we’re a rightful match.”
You giggle between gasps. “Not fair… I don’t know mer anatomy like you do!”
“Would you like an experiential lesson?”
“Is that what we’re going to call this?”
“We could…” Jade moves based on vehement instinct, his hips colliding with yours. You throw your head back when his slit brushes against yours once more. It’s soft and squishy, entirely hairless. “If it were up to me, I’d prefer something far less technical.”
“Coitus isn’t doing it for you?”
He laughs. “I want to become a pair, if only for today, and make love to you.”
“‘Make love’ sounds a little…”
Jade searches your face for the underlying meaning in unspoken words. You try to hold eye contact, but your gaze wanders to the jellyfish above. His sigh draws your attention. “I understand. Making love would imply a romance that has not yet come to fruition.”
Even now, I’m trying to run away, you realize. What am I so afraid of?
Should you yield to his wishes? Should you be impetuous and play another dangerous game? You’ve agonized over similar questions before, weighing right and wrong on your internal scale, and the answer has always remained the same: You shouldn’t, no matter how tempting it may be. Because to play these games, you must be willing to tango with trouble.
I’m the worst at making good decisions and the best at making bad decisions. I really should work on flipping those…
“Just for today,” you concede with a grumble, “we’ll become a pair.”
Whether or not you come to regret it, playing pretend has always been your and Jade’s favorite pastime. That will never change.
“My, my. Aren’t you impressionable?” he jests with a coprophagous grin.
“Just shut up and kiss me, you stupid, asshole eel.”
And he does just that, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that’s all twisting tongues. You melt alongside him like sorbet in the sun, your tails braiding as one. There’s catharsis in crawling out of your head to focus on the present, where it’s just you and Jade in this silent sea of jellyfish. You push rationality and sorrow aside, favoring carnal delights instead, and entangle yourself in another tantalizing tryst. You kiss and bite in equal measure, digging your claws into his shoulders while he marks you, just as ferociously proprietorial.
Your lips are bitten puffy in the aftermath; you taste blood in your mouth, so you lick your lips clean of the substance. You bring him down to bite into his neck, hoping to match your bite with the ones he’s previously left on you, but he stops you.
“Dangerous,” he rasps, rolling his hips until something foreign sprouts between your bodies, the tip prodding at your own slit. You gasp and arch towards him. “Our blood is—mm—it’s not safe…for consumption.”
“Really?” you ask, not believing him for a second.
“Truly. Would I lie about that?”
“Coming from you, yes, you absolutely would.”
“I’m being truthful this time.” You roll your eyes at this time, and he elaborates: “Our blood is harmful to many mammals, especially humans. The tiniest amount could kill you. Even if your teeth may not be sharp enough to pierce my skin and you’re currently a mer, I wouldn’t want to risk it.
“Thought you would.” He raises an eyebrow, so you add, “You love risk.”
“Not if said risk involves endangering you. I care about you, (Name).”
You gaze sidelong at the sprawling seafloor. “R-Right…”
“If you were to ingest even a fraction of my blood, you’d suffer dreadful muscle cramps. I’m certain you value your life to some degree, yes? A bound heart would be most painful. Besides, I’m more fond of the risk with long-term consequences. Risks you neglect to see coming are intoxicating.”
“Yeah, that sounds more like you.” You giggle and run your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch, rumbling with amusement. “So what are these ‘long-term consequences’ you love so much?”
In reply, he simply smiles.
“You look so creepy!”
You give his hair a punishing tug. That thing that had been poking you earlier—it wriggles free from the slit that once confined it. Jade lifts himself off of you so that you can view it. Thick and tapered, lined with an odd set of nubs, his cock is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. You react on impulse, curiously wrapping your webbed hand around it. It twitches at the contact, curling into your palm as if seeking a fleshy embrace. You startle, eyes blown wide.
Jade sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw clenched tight. “Well, what do you think?”
“It’s…different. A good type of different!” You stroke him and watch the unique appendage squirm. “So this is it… Interesting. I never would’ve imagined this is what it looks like. And it moves as if it’s got a mind of its own!”
“Haa… I’m pleased to have shocked you.”
“You always do. Now what other tricks do you have in store?”
“Plenty. That I can assure you.”
You wonder if you should fear the implications of the plenty he’s mentioned, but those worries are knocked out of your head when he lowers himself on top of you. His cock slides against your slit. Your heart pumps into overdrive as you anticipate it, your body burning with a new sort of itch. Jade traces two fingers along your lips before spreading them in a slow, deep thrust. You thrash and buck up towards his hand.
“Don’t drag this out… Please, Jade, I want it—”
“How badly?”
You groan. “I hate you. I’m not going to say it.”
“Then you won’t receive it.”
“Please? What happened to friendly favors?”
“That doesn’t apply here.” His smile is so serrated it could slice you. “So I’ll ask once more—how badly do you want it?”
You mumble a desultory reply.
“You’ll have to speak up, my dearest.”
“I want it more than anything.”
“More than what?”
You shoot him a scary scowl. “I’m not saying it.”
“I can wait.” For the sake of being himself, he adds a third finger. It’s not enough, and every digit rests still and shallow inside. You cry out in displeasure. “More than whom, (Name)?”
“You’re so mean! I won’t say it!”
“C’mon, Shrimpy. You can do it…” Your walls flutter around him, and he whistles and withdraws his fingers. “Attagirl. Now say it and I’ll give it to ya.”
I’m going to kill him.
You have more energy to resist, but you’re too impatient to play the long game. So you fall victim to the act just as you have in the past. “Fine! Okay! I want it more than Floyd! I want you more than him. I… I want you inside me. You, Jade. Not Floyd.” With a huff, you add, “There. I said it. Does that satisfy you?”
“Oh, very much so.”
He thumbs at your hips, adjusting himself only slightly so that the tip of his cock is kissing your slit. You pull his ear fins in admonishment.
“Asshole eel.”
“Gorgeous grouper. The prettiest lady I’ve ever seen, even in obscenity,” he murmurs, opening his mouth at you.
Comprehending the message, you gape right back.
Unlike your original body, your mer form doesn’t require much preparation. It’s an odd thing, but when your gummy walls swallow more and more of that peculiar cock as it’s eased in you begin to think you were designed for sex. This form possesses the impossible flexibility you lack as a human, your slit suited to take the monstrosity that is his member even without the foreplay. You steal glances between your joined bodies and Jade’s face as it shifts through the stages of pleasure. He almost collapses on top of you once he’s fully sheathed inside, his grip on you so tight that his claws cut into your skin. The sting is but a whisper amidst the sheer fullness settled within your stomach.
“You—” he bows his head, groaning lowly— “truly are a dream…”
You throw your head back, whining when he hits a certain spot bundled within. You’d marvel at his ability to reach those areas if you weren’t already so overwhelmed with ardor. His movements are sloppy while he pursues the proper pace, filling you like it’s second nature. All you can do is hold on to his shoulders and revel in the sensations of this new body. When his hips connect with yours, it’s as if puzzle pieces click together. As if the two of you were made for this moment and every other one that’s come before it, a perfect combination reaction. As if, rather than Floyd, it was Jade who was meant to fill the cavern in your heart all along.
A dream…
It’s not just your presence that’s comparable to a dream. It’s the situation and the scenery—the players and their motivations who make the dream come alive, even if it’s built on physical attraction and lies. You wouldn’t call yourself an actor, for an actor is able to separate themself from their role, and you wouldn’t view Jade in that way either. You can’t. Not when he’s above you, every bodily, emotional truth on full display.
You’re just yourself, as you’ve always been, and Jade is Jade. There aren’t any roles to act out here at the bottom of the sea. No need for either of you to pretend to be people you’re not. No need for the phony Floyd to play a parody of a love that will never come to florescence.
If you keep saying such heartfelt things, I’ll fall.
You pull Jade down into another hungry kiss, to which he reciprocates with the same ravenous energy. The both of you gasp into the other’s mouth, desperate to reach orgasmic bliss way up in the troposphere. It didn’t seem so in the beginning, but now, when he fucks into you like this is his last day on Earth, it feels right. You’ve never viewed Jade in rose tint. In fact, he was so insignificant in your life that you failed to comprehend his very existence. Your sight often narrowed to encapsulate Floyd, exiling everyone else to your peripheral, and he became less of Jade Leech—his own person with unique hobbies and talents—and more of Floyd’s twin—the body double who could pass as Floyd if you looked at him from the wrong angle.
But now that same Jade Leech, the one you’d thought so little of before, is making love to you beneath a blanket of jellyfish.
Winding yourself around him, you hold firm to keep him pinned on top of you. “Please don’t stop! Please keep go—oh—going,” you plead, eyes rolling back when he does just that.
“As you wish,” he manages through grunts. “I won’t stop until you’ve had your fill—until all you can think of is me.”
“If that’s the c-case—” you dig your fingers into his back— “you—haa—will have to try harder.”
“Oh? And yet you were so easily satisfied when I was Floyd,” he teases, grabbing your hips and driving himself home in deep, riotous strokes. You tamp down a bawdy moan. “Am I not enough?”
“Not that. Different… It’s different when you’re—oh!” Your weak glare is directed at the jellyfish rather than Jade when he nips at your shoulder. Bolts of pleasure shiver through you when he sinks his teeth in to suck a vicious bruise into your skin. “You’re such a cheat.”
And so annoying. Just like that time in the botanical garden.
“But you’re thinking of me, are you not?”
Your eyes snap back to his. “Not true.”
“I’m flattered.”
“W-Whatever! It’s just beginner’s luck.”
“I’d wager you’ve thought of me before.”
“Only when it’s inconvenient.” You huff, but even that sound is swiftly replaced with another filthy moan when he bites into the spot just above your breast. “Not my fault you look like Floyd.”
“I don’t think that’s the reason,” he mutters into your skin, hips stalling out into something slow and steady.
Now you’re vexed, your pleasure withering at the lack of stimulation. “What does it matter?”
“Because I love—”
You pull him away from your collarbone to silence him with a kiss. He blinks at you in the aftermath, mystified.
“I know.” Strangely, the admission doesn’t unsettle you as much as you thought it would. “Your body told me.”
Plenty of times, in fact.
“You needn’t respond,” he mumbles, cradling your cheek in a fond hold. Sadness swells in his eyes, and your mushy heart skips a beat. “I’m well aware of how deep-rooted your affections for Floyd are.”
They’re subject to change, you almost say, but it sticks in your throat. Can they change? Is that possible?
“I… I’ve always kinda known, Jade.”
“Have you now?”
“You weren’t very covert with it.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.” His lips ghost over yours in an almost-kiss. “I have no reason to hide my feelings. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
You run your fingers over his gills, engrossed in his glimmer. “Why? I thought… I mean, isn’t hiding stuff your thing?”
He heaves a shuddering sigh at your titillating touches. “Loving in silence is far too suffocating for a moray.”
“I see…”
And you do. You see it in the way he holds you, the way he kisses you, the way he speaks to you. The way he looks at you, the way he cooks for you, the way he acts around you. From the moment you shook hands on a crazy deal, you were wrapped up in love. It was never about food critique or entertainment; those were secondary to the truth. Jade agreed to help because he loves you. Jade stifled himself—snuffed all of the pieces that comprise Jade—in order to be Floyd because he loves you. Jade spent hours learning new recipes he thought you’d like because he loves you. Jade is an ever-present force in your life no matter how often you shove him to the side because he loves you.
Everything he does—everything he is right now—stems from the love he feels for you.
You’ve always loved others, your heart much too big for its own good, so it’s new to feel that same amount of love reflected tenfold. Tears spot your lash line. Jade coos at you in a musical mix of foreign syllables and sounds. Mermish, you suspect.
“‘You’re beautiful in saltwater,’” he translates. “It’s a double entendre we say here, meaning you’re beautiful when you’re under the sea and when you’re crying. It comes from the two interpretations of saltwater.”
As if you couldn’t cry harder, you do.
“S-Stupid,” you whisper through your sniffles. “How can I not think of you when you say something like that?”
Jade rests his forehead against yours, smiling sincerely. “These are my feelings. You needn’t accept them, but I would be happy if you could acknowledge them.”
“I do. I hear you.”
“Thank you.”
I should be thanking you, dummy.
He kisses you again, and unspoken words melt away into body language. Jade makes love to you like you might break at the slightest thrust, his hips molding to yours in a lazy, loving tempo. It’s comforting and calm to feel his weight on yours, a reminder that he is your beacon amidst all of this desolation and darkness. Insatiable, you and Jade wind around each other like snakes, moaning into each other’s mouths at every opportunity. You’ve never felt more weightless, so much so you’re floating. In this underwater paradise, time is nonexistent and your turbulent thoughts are carried away on the waves.
With his ministrations, the fiery ache in your belly sparks with new life. Your glutinous walls clamp down, which draws a pleasured hiss from Jade, and you breach that special, orgasmic surface with a cry. It’s soon swallowed in another greedy kiss, and all you can do is blindly pursue his tongue, your eyes squeezed shut. The throes of pleasure overtake you even as he continues to fuck you through it, unwilling to let up for even a moment.
It’s perfect—a puzzle finally pieced together.
Jade reaches his zenith shortly after you, his hips crashing against yours in one final thrust to fill you with cum. It’s unlike human sperm, thin and watery, but there’s so much of it. You consider asking for the biology lecture, but you’re so caught up in cloud nine that it’s a chore to work your heavy tongue.
Next time I’ll ask.
Jade—cool and collected Jade—flops on top of you afterwards, completely drained. His cock twitches limply inside of you, but he’s too exhausted to slide out. Not that you’re complaining. The connection is much appreciated.
“Sex is…not very messy in the sea,” you mumble, reaching to pat his head. He hums beneath your palm. “I guess it makes sense because these bodies don’t sweat.”
“Mm.”
“And there’s water everywhere, so fluids won’t last long either.”
“Mm.”
“Huh…”
“Mm.”
You run your fingers through his hair, watching in awe as the strands waver in the water. “Are you okay, Jade?”
“Yes… Yes, I’m fine now.” He lifts his head slightly to look at you. “My apologies. I…may have gotten lost in the moment.”
“It’s fine.” You issue him a hazy smile. “So this is what Jade’s like post-nut. Cute.”
“Please,” he murmurs, giggling deliriously. “I can assure you I’m normally much cooler. More coherent, too.”
“I never said this side of you wasn’t cool.”
“No, you did not.” His hand covers yours, squeezing faintly. “Thank you, truly, for everything.”
“Jade, I—” You hesitate, gather your words, and continue: “I want to be the one to thank you for everything. You didn’t have to put up with me for this long. You still shouldn’t have to, but you do. So… So thank you. I’m happy to have you in my life.”
“I am forever fortunate to have crossed paths with you.” His fingers curl around yours and he brings your hand up to his lips. “And I will continue to feel so for the rest of my life. There’s no need to offer your gratitude. Being here with you is more than enough.”
“Ooh, so romantic. Everything you say is so…princely. Are you secretly fairy-tale royalty?”
“Would you like to meet my father and find out?”
“Ugh. Forget I said anything. You’re so two-faced.” You tear your hand out of his clasp.
Jade chuckles. “It wouldn’t be a very long swim. My mother will adore you.”
“You’re shameless. We still have to collect the rest of the stuff for Azul.”
“He’ll live.”
“I’ll be indebted to him.”
“And then I’ll get to see you more often.” Jade pets the bloody bites littering your skin with overt adoration. “What wonderful luck, no?”
“You’re seriously the worst!”
“You don’t mean that.”
He’s right; you don’t.
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You’re not perturbed by the signs, or lack thereof.
Firstly, your period is notorious for being late. Secondly, you haven’t felt a sliver of sickness ever since Jack offhandedly remarked that you smelled different. When asked to explicate, he told you in that gruff voice of his: “Sweeter. Not like your perfumes. This is a natural sweetness.”
You were wearing your favorite fragrance at the time, so when you sniffed your wrist and turned up with a noseful of Date Night you figured Jack must have mistaken the two. Surely a wolf beastman can have a faulty nose. It can’t be correct all the time, right? Even now, after listening to similar remarks from friends and acquaintances alike, you’re convinced a mistake has been made.
After all, nothing’s changed.
Today, however, it’s Azul who wrinkles his nose at you when you walk past him in the lounge. The busy atmosphere requires his presence, hence why he’s joining you on the floor. He’d be a welcome appearance, if not for his bizarre reaction.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says with another snuffle.
You narrow your eyes. “Don’t tell me I smell weird, too. That’s all I’ve been hearing lately.”
“Surely someone’s told you.” He folds his arms across his chest. “If not my distracted customers, I would hope one of your friends has clued you in by now.”
“I’m not distracting them on purpose, Azul. But, really, you ought to be happy. It’s bringing in more money. Lots of tips.” You gesture to yourself with your free hand; the other is occupied with a tray full of plates. “Aren’t I doing you a favor?”
He hums, fixing his eyes on the clustered crowd. Jade and Floyd make their rounds, as do the rest of the lounge staff. “And you’ve been feeling well? No illness or discomfort of any sort? Any unusual symptoms?”
“What does my smell have to do with any of that?”
Azul offers you a pleasant simper. “For the right price, I may be able to speculate.”
“Nice try. Like I’d fall for that.”
You pivot on your heel and head for your designated table, hips sashaying all the way. For a while you were paranoid that you smelled foul and that your perfumes couldn’t mask it, but when you asked Ace and Deuce they couldn’t pinpoint the issue either. It was then when Ace joked that your uniform seemed a size too tight, and your concerns evaporated all at once—as did Ace’s comment when you and Deuce chased him through the halls to wring an apology out of him.
Grim doesn’t agree with their assessment, but then you can never tell if he’s being serious when he grumbles about your smell or how you’re like a human furnace now. Winter is approaching; of course you’ve started to bundle up to accommodate for the chilly weather. But Grim insists this is different. Agree to disagree, you compromised and left it at that. Jade had been your last resort, who weighed in with a smile and some cryptic nonsense about ‘delightful consequences’—whatever that meant. Consulting him was a fruitless effort, as he proved to be about as much help as the rest of the school.
Azul doesn’t know what he’s talking about, you think as you serve the table of students. I’ve never felt better.
Just as you think that, though, your body chooses to ridicule you. When you step away from the table, fatigue washes over you and you stumble on unsteady legs. You brace yourself for the floor’s cruel kiss, but the impact from the collapse never comes. Strong arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you upright, and then you hear him. Your star.
“Whoa! Careful there, Shrimpy. Don’t go fallin’ on us.”
“F-Floyd!” You stare up at him from where you remain slumped in his grasp. The world spins and presents you with three Floyds. You blink them away until there’s one, and by the Great Seven is he handsome in his uniform. “Thanks for catching me…”
“Don’t mention it.” He helps you to your feet, patting you down for extra measure. “All good?”
“Yeah… Yeah, totally. Sorry. I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine, and the next I was so exhausted I couldn’t walk straight.”
“You get enough sleep?”
“I could do better, but I had to pull an all-nighter. Maybe I’m not eating enough? But then Ace said my uniform looked tight… Do you think I’m coming down with something? But I haven’t felt sick either. Just hungry. Seriously… What’s going on with my body?”
Floyd looks through you rather than at you, his face scrunched in contemplation. He leans closer, sniffs you once, and then pinches you through your shirt. You flinch.
“H-Hey! What was that for?”
His mouth spreads in an obnoxiously smug grin—the sort that tells you he’s worked out the solution to a mystery you’ve yet to recognize. “Just testin’ something. You’re smellin’ more like Jade these days. Mama’ll be happy knowin’ he’s got himself a li’l lady friend.”
You bristle, warming under his knowing gaze. Of course Jade’s scent is fresh on your clothes. Prior to your shift, the two of you rendezvoused for a quick round of kissing and bickering over the title for your mutualistic relations. It’s not love. It’s convenience. You fool yourself with this lie because part of you is still so hung up on Floyd. Though your affections have dimmed considerably since that day in the Coral Sea, you still catch yourself fantasizing about him and the future you could share. Although, after everything that’s happened with Jade, you’re not sure where your heart lies.
Jade is not the other half to your pair, but neither is Floyd.
But Jade is always around and he likes you; Floyd does not. And sometimes you think Jade will make it official—that he’ll confess again and you’ll echo the sentiment this time because you have nothing to lose and you’re always waltzing on the border between love and lust. You await that day with hopeful horror.
Everything has changed even if it doesn’t feel like it.
“I am not his lady friend. Not like that.”
“Sure you aren’t. And I’m not a moray.”
“I’m serious!”
“Course you are. I just don’t believe ya.”
“You—” Scowling, you move to swat at him, but the noisy growl of your stomach stops you in your tracks. “Y-You didn’t hear that!”
“Guess it’s better bein’ hungry than sick. Surprised you can even keep anything down.”
“What are you talking about? That makes no sense.”
Floyd shrugs. “Nothin’. Just sayin’ it’s damn good luck is all. These sorta things make humans suuuper sick.”
“Okay… Cool. Thanks for the input?”
Floyd snatches your fedora, indicating he’s ready for a chase and that this conversation has ended. “Hee-hee. You’ll figure it out soon.”
“Wha—hey! Get back here! I wanna know right now!”
Like a brainwashed fool, you pursue because he’s still your star—the eel you’ve idolized ever since you met him. Those feelings are impossible to squash, but it doesn’t matter. Floyd isn’t bothered, and perhaps that’s for the best. His nonchalance allows the two of you to remain friends even in the wake of your confession.
Nothing has changed between you and him.
Looking on with mounting interest, Azul pulls a very proud-looking Jade aside. “You seem pleased.”
“As a peach.”
“Am I right to assume you have a contingency plan written up?”
“And for what contingency must I plan?”
Azul scoffs at his deliberate pussyfooting. “You tell me. Your intentions evade me at present.”
“Is that so? And I thought I made them perfectly clear all those months ago.”
“You did, yes, but I fail to understand how any of this benefits you if she’s still so enamored with Floyd. Do you intend to make a marriage out of this noncommittal not-romance?”
“Azul, you jest. I’m not someone who plays for second place or consolation prizes. Of course I’ll marry (Name). She won’t have a choice.”
“You’re not even romantically involved.”
“Not by human standards.”
“No, I suppose not.” Azul watches as you, oblivious and secretly enceinte, follow Floyd to the kitchen to retrieve another set of finished orders. “A child is a commitment in more ways than one.”
“As are twins.”
He doesn’t shudder at the sight of Jade’s razored smirk, but he does raise an inquiring brow. “What makes you think that?”
“Moray eel intuition.”
“Hah. I see. (Name) won’t be very thrilled.”
“Perhaps not. But we’ll be here to help, won’t we?”
The two exchange a devious glance. Azul snickers. “Oh, but of course. I am nothing if not a compassionate, benevolent soul.”
“Your generosity parallels that of the great Sea Witch,” Jade agrees, a hand held over his heart.
“It was reckless, but I must admit I’m impressed.”
“Why, thank you. I do so enjoy playing dangerous games. The risks are profoundly metamorphic, but the rewards make it worth my while.” His two-toned eyes track your figure as you flit about the lounge with Floyd. “I’ll do whatever it takes. If I must play Floyd for the day, so be it. If I must swallow her in my shadow so that no one else dares to look for her light, so be it. These are the lengths I’m willing to go to for her. She is my everything. My dearest. My moon.” Jade glances at Azul, a manic grin darkening his features. “And rather than confine myself to the role of a single star seeking her approval, I’ll become her universe. Then there will be no need to compete with other stars, for I will be the only one she’ll ever see in this starless solar system.”
“What a frightening face… You and (Name) really are a match made in madness.”
“Aren’t we just?”
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hobiebrownbrowser · 1 year
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Waiting Room Quickie
Author note: For this handsome young lad he'll probably have a goofy yet calm aura like the rest of the Hobie's. I gave him a concealed expression. Like imagine his eyes just admiring something in front of him. Not taking his eyes off you for one second unless he's forced too. His smile is low but he mean's well kinda vibe.🧡
Concept Hobie Brown x FEM!Reader
🔞NO KIDS ALLOWED 🔞
Summary:Before a concert Hobie wants to do just more than admire his favorite lady.
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"But what if someone comes in?" You look at Hobie clearly nervous, his determination not changing as he simply gets up and locks the door. Walking back towards you, Lifting you in his arms and placing you onto a scratched up make-up stand.
"No one's gotta split the jit now luv, come on~" You gulped, avoiding his eyes. He invited you to his waiting room, The first thing he did was set his guitar down, Propping it in the corner and causally sitting on a beaten up chair that's seen better days.
Your fingers fiddled with one another as he slowly approaches you. His hands resting on your knees as he waits for an answer. His cold rings sending shivers through you as he caresses your calf muscle.
You gave in, A smile plastered on Hobie's face, His lips attaching to yours. A soft moan spilling from you as Hobie pulls on your bottom lip with his teeth, His fingers trailing past your panties.
A muffled cry leaving your lips as he plays with your clit. Spreading your folds with his index and middle finger. Your back arching as his fingers probed at your cunt, barely pushing them inside of you.
"Stop teasing me..." He hummed, your pussy sucking his fingers in as he slowly thrusts them out. Your hands clutching on his shoulders as he finds your sweet spot, his body pushing you up against the mirror frame.
A shallow breath leaving you as something hard pressed against your inner thigh. Hobie placing soft kisses along your neck as he pulls off your shirt.
"H-hobie..." You whined out, His hand sliding upwards to unclasp your bra, Caressing your hips as he discards all your clothes. His soft loving gaze never leaving yours as he pulls off his vest.
You pulled on the rim of his crop top, The thin fabric coming off next. A kiss being placed on your temple before he pulls away. His eyes scanning your body.
You ran your fingers through his beautiful butterfly locs, being careful not to ruin them. The man below you trailing kisses along your cleavage, The palm of his hand making contact with your seeping cunt once again.
You watched as he pulled down his pants, A massive bulge in his boxers. You bit your bottom lip, trailing your finger over the rim of his undergarments before pulling them down. His cock slapping against his abdomen.
You could feel his breath on your skin, His body putting pressure on yours as his cock makes contact with your clit, The tip of his cock pushing past your entrance. Your grip on his shoulders tightening once you feel him stretching you out.
"Fuck!... please..." A quivering cry ringing throughout the room as his cock pulsates inside of you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation. Warmth building in your lower abdomen once he'd set a perfect rhythm.
"Eyes up' ere dollface." He'd finally spoke, his voice raspy as he sets a finger under your chin. His eyes admiring yours as he placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. His hands under your thighs as he deepens his cock inside of you.
Your legs trembling in his grasp as the base of his cock brushes over your sweet spot. Repeatedly sending shocks up your spine as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. His nails digging into the drawer below you as he groans next to your ear.
"Keep ya' pretty lil' eyes on me lush." You did as told, stopping yourself from falling into ecstasy. Your pussy clenching around him as your orgasm falls near.
He slowed down his movements, your gaze following his as a figure stands on the other side of the door. You could feel your heart pounding, A muffled cry coming from you as he covers your mouth with his palm, ravishing you.
A faint knock on the door heightening your senses. Pleasure rolling in your hips as you cum all over his cock. A lousy moan seeping out of you. Hobie hushing your whimpers with the palm of his hand.
"You gotta' jig in 10 minutes mate!" The voice beckoned for hobie, your head in a complete daze as he fucks you senseless, chasing his own orgasm as he captures your lips.
His hips staggering as he fills your pussy with thick ropes of cum. A loud groan spilling from his throat as his cock twitches uncontrollably inside of you, His lips detaching from yours.
He was still inside of you. You both sitting still until one another pulls away. The exhausted male draining the last drops of semen into you. His heavy breathing calming as he picks you up and sets you on a nearby couch.
A tired smirk on his face as he coos you back into existence, Caressing your stomach before wetting a towel and cleaning the mess you both had made. Helping you put back on your clothes, making sure your straight before placing a kiss on your forehead, getting ready for his next rave.
He winks at you, the same grin plastered on his face as he places one last kiss on the bridge of your nose.
"Thank you luv~" He grabbed his guitar and jogged towards the door. A few minutes past 10 as the sound of his guitar lit up the crowd outside. A cup of herbal tea being left by one of his co-workers.
You smiled, enjoying the concert on a digital screen as you sip your hot beverage.
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Now I'm not a professional but I think I aced an A+
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Note
Can you write a Platonic fic for the characters?
If so may I request the school bus graveyard characters and an older sibling like reader
(Of course! Enjoy!)
Older Sibling-Like Reader
Aiden
This man is literally never leaving you alone 
There are pros and cons with being a comfort place for Aiden
But to get something straight Aiden is definitely kept in line by you
All is takes is one look and he is definitely knowing he's gonna get an ear full
But knowing him, he keeps going
It’s Aiden, for god's sake
He is kinda bummed in his own mind on how you’re not actually his blood related sibling
He could have used you a whole lot when he was going through stuff growing up
He thinks you would have made it a little better
But he’s happy he now knows you and that you’re his unofficial sibling now
Against your will of course
He’s the annoying little brother for sure
Your friends are now his friends and his friends are definitely your friends
It’s a given
He is always dragging you into all his shit so of course when stuff is happening with those fucking demons man you are right there with him
You have literally no escape from this man
The sibling to just come into your room, mess with your hit, check himself out in the mirror, push your phone into your face and walk out
Ben
He is more subtly protective of the people he loves
Especially when that fight went down when Logan was trying to help out that kid
He values you a lot even if he physically cannot say it
He is always subconsciously next to you because he finds your aura a bit comforting
Especially because you took on that older sibling role
He’s taller, people find him intimidating so he never really had anyone be the one to comfort him or to be the one that treated him like how you do
It was something new for him and he turned out to really like it
He doesn’t say it out loud but he does love and care for you
He would literally fight to hell and back for you, anyone he loves he would but you especially
In the dream world place shit he is definitely by your and Aiden's side the whole time
Gotta protect his honorary siblings
He may not show it but he loves when you treat him like a casual younger sibling
Even if its sibling arguing or fighting he loves being treated like a blood related sibling by you
He finds it comforting 
He likes little things like that
He needs an older sibling so bad bro cause like what??
Logan
YOU BETTER STICK UP FOR HIS ASS
If you were friends from before that field trip happened you better have stuck up for him
But even if you werent and you found out that shit was going down??
That was when Logan actually started thinking of you as an older sibling like person to him
Just the way you got mad, showed you cared and comforted him and how you went up to go pick a fight because you got ticked off about how he got treated
It was nice to know somebody cared about him in that way
He doesn’t really have anyone like that to do that shit for him
He’s always been kind of alone in that department so for you to step in and help him like that?
It was refreshing in a way and he doesn’t want to lose that
And it just was a bit jarring to him at how much you cared
If you do small things like do sibling like picking on him, or protecting him, or ruffling his hair, messing up his shit playfully and stuff like that
He may pretend to get annoyed but he does find it fun and will do it back to yo
People look at you guys and just from how you act are shocked at how y’all are not in any way related
He does wish you guys were
His life would be a lot better if you were his older sibling, he thinks
Tyler
He’s the stereotypical “I don’t care!” and “I don’t need it!” type of person to anyone else but to Taylor and you?
He’s different towards his siblings
It was just very natural in a way when you somehow became that older sibling like role for him
He was somewhat relieved he didn’t have to hold the entire older sibling burden on his shoulders anymore
He may appear to not need the help or want that type or care for himself but let me tell you something
He needs it, and he probably secretly craves it
He’s always been the stronger one, even if he is a twin he felt he needed to be that for Taylor because if not him who else?
And all older siblings know that burden
So he may not show it but he definitely finds a bit of comfort and solace in you being that for him
He won’t break down, he won’t do what other people might do to show they appreciate it, or he may not even really speak on it
But he shows he does in little actions like protecting you, checking up on you and helping you in ways he would only usually help Taylor in
He does need that older sibling care though because mans is probably gonna have a breakdown
In the hospital scene he ran to both you and Taylor and you guys were the only thing on his mind as he kept running 
That was probably the tightest hug you have ever gotten from him
Everyone probably thought he was going to you guys to comfort y’all or that he was worried about you guys
Don't get me wrong, he was both those things
But he was also terrified and holding onto you, his older sibling, because he needed your comfort then
Taylor
She really appreciates you
She loves having older siblings
She may not really like the cons that come with being treated like the baby of the family or being younger but she loves having the comfort of older siblings
It’s like a blanket and safety net she can’t describe to anyone else
She may have only started out with Tyler but she somehow found you along the way and she has never been more happy
She is very protective over her siblings also
Even if you’re not biologically her sibling she is just the same with you
She’s always happy to be around you, to annoy you and even in the bad times
In the dream like hell you guys go to everyday at night she always is around either you or Tyler
You guys bring her a comfort she can’t describe but a comfort she always wants to be around
She is terrified of you guys getting hurt, especially after what happened to Tyler
She sometimes forgets you’re not biologically her sibling
But does she care??
No. She does not care one bit.
Ashley
It may have taken some time for Ash to even be comfortable or even acknowledge how she feels like you’re an older sibling to her
She’s an only child so she’s never experienced a sibling-like bond before
So to have you appear in her life so suddenly caught her off guard
Especially with how you showed you cared, or how you treated her like someone would treat their sibling
But she actually liked it
She gravitated towards it when she got more comfortable with the thought or when she needed it
Especially when shit gets hard in the hell you guys are all forced into at night
She likes that you have her back and she has yours 
It’s a protective thing she loves
And like Tyler she is happy to not have to hold the entire burden of everything just because she’s older
Her parents more likely like you as well just because f how much their daughter does
Ash has you over a lot, everyone else as well, so much so your stuff probably is around her room a lot
Ash may not be used to having an older sibling to go to but when she does?
She can’t help but like it
It’s a foreign comfort to her
But she likes it, a lot
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redroomwidows · 24 days
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'I got one🙋🏻‍♀️ can’t you do Lee Russell x Neal’s younger sister reader? They’re secretly seeing each other behind his back and Neal walked in Lee’s office about to have sex or always having sex…. Up to you ☺️'
notes: everyone loves a good frenemies sister fic. I didn't go fully NSFW with this, it's just a bit steamy, and I made the reader plus-size cos I do what I like lol. Reader is not mentioned to be adopted or biological so view her as you wish. Lee is already divorced from Christine even if it's set at the start of S2!! Christine is a legend and I stand with her.
warnings: making out, inferences to sex, strong language (I mean come on). NSFW! Semi-public sex (they're in an office in a school in the middle of the day lol) Reader smokes and is described as wearing skirts and makeup. Reader is shorter than Lee. Blood mentions. unedited because I'm sleepy. Lee is definitely out if character because he is HARD to write for.
Lee Russell x plus size!fem! reader
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North Jackson High was somewhat of a shit hole. Not a huge one, but there was definitely a mild stain somewhere. Two Principles in two semesters - three if you included the singular day Neal Gamby had walked through the halls - and five English teachers teaching one class in a year. The school was cursed.
That’s what you’d told yourself when you were offered the job as a TA for the next semester of school. Your brother, Neal, had insisted you take it - happy to stop seeing your worried face every day when you visited him at his ex-wife's.
“Look, one Gamby leaves, another enters,”
“That’s bullshit. You’ll be back there in no time,”
He was not, and his newfound friend had practically begged you to join the staff after your interview - you tried to tell yourself it wasn’t because of your brother, or the lowcut top you’d chosen to wear. 
A few weeks into your new job, you found that Lee Russell was rather… eccentric. Loud, and unapologetic, he had a strange aura that had you pulled in, ending up with both of you going for smoke breaks in the forest near the back end of the school, and ending up with your cheeks flushed and skirt askew.
You didn’t expect it to take Lee so long to initiate office sex - he seemed like the type - but he was surprisingly sweet when it came to intimacy. As foul-mouthed as he was, it seemed he genuinely liked you.
It had become somewhat of a ritual, that every Friday during your final free period, you’d find yourself in Lee’s office, either helping him plan for his ‘get the teachers to like me scheme’, or bent over his desk, his cock buried in you.
“Long day?” you ask when you enter his office, shutting the door behind you and starting to pull down the blinds: Lee was sitting at his desk, head in his hands.
“Better now you’re here sweetheart,” he grinned, flashing you his teeth, you hum unbelievably and continue to pull down the rest of the blinds, before you can turn to him, Lee has stood up against you, his hands snaking over your curves and to rest over your stomach.
“Lee,” you warn gently, his lips starting to kiss along the right hand side of your neck “You gotta lock the door,”
“I’m just playin’,” he mutters, but there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, you smile, and let your head fall back onto his shoulder “I spoke with Neal today,” he starts
“Can we not talk about my brother whilst you’re trying to get into my pants?” 
“Yes ma’am,” he smirks and spins you around, playfully pushing you behind his desk, you let out a soft giggle and lean by the centre of it as he approaches, swaying his hips dramatically before grabbing your face in his hands and pressing a long kiss to your lips.
He pulls away to breathe for a moment and you notice his eyes staying on yours “Hi,”
“Hi,” you giggle “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to see that pretty smile of yours,” that makes you smile more, and he leans in for another kiss, helping you to sit on his desk before his hands rest on your spread thighs to steady himself, he squeezes gently and runs his hand up closer to your clothed core. The small moan you let out allows him to slip his tongue inside, and your arms wrap around his neck, Lee pulls away, smudging your lipstick over your chin, and he returns to your neck, lightly nipping at it.
“Lee,” you moan out “I can’t go out there with hicky’s all over me,”
“I’ll be gentle,”
“You’ve never been before,” Lee lets out a huff of laughter that sends tingles down your spine, he breaths into you ear and speaks lowly
“Never complained before doll,” 
“Oh, just fuck me,” you sigh, the foreplay already had you near soaked, and although it was only an hour ‘till the bell rang for the end of the day, you were desperate.
Lee hooks his pinky finger under your chin, tilting your head to look at him “Who’s the principle here darlin’?”
“You,” you breathe out and he grins, his other hand cupping at your sex before he drops your chin and goes to unbutton your trousers, he looks down.
“Jeans really? Miss Gamby, that violates our dress code,” he tuts
“You gonna write me up Mr. Russell?” he groans at that and leans his head back 
“Oh you know just how to get a man rock hard darlin’” he presses his lips to yours again, and reopens your thighs, this time actually unzipping your jeans and attempting to pull them down. Your own hands keep themselves busy, unbuckling his belt, and slipping a hand down his trousers to palm at his underwear - he really was rock hard.
“Just been waintin’ to ravish you here,” he mutters, biting at your neck again “Wanna show all those cunts who’s boss,” you use your right hand to make him look up again, leaning in for a harsher kiss, biting at his bottom lip, he groans, tasting his own blood slightly. You two become too lost in your own lust too hear the office door open.
“Jesus Christ!”
“Shit!” you pull back, and turn around quickly, seeing your older brother standing there, jaw on the floor, he slams the door shut.
“What the hell Russell?! You’re fucking my sister?!”
Lee backs away quickly as you wipe the lipstick from your chin, staring to rezip your jeans.
“Well we hadn't quite got to that bit yet, and sometimes she fucks me,”
“Lee!” you scold, he puts his hands up in surrender - causing his trousers to drop down, showing only his underwear “Oh lord,”
“You wear briefs?” Neal questions
“Stop looking at my dick!” Lee exclaims
“You’re practically shoving it in my face!”
“Boys!” you jumps off the desk “Let-”
“Oh, you’re not in the clear here either missy!”
“Missy?! I’m a grown woman!”
“Who’s fucking her boss!” Neal shouts
“Do you want the whole school to know?!”
“I do,” Lee raises his hand
“Not now,”
“And we’re not just fucking Neal, we’re in a loving committed relationship,” Lee places his right hand on your waist and pulls you closer, you look down.
“Your dick’s poking me,” you say bluntly and Neal covers his eyes - finally.
“Pull your pants up Russell, you,” he points “I’m taking you home,”
“I’m technically on the clock…”
“So you’ll fuck him but not go home?”
“Yep,” you nod confidently “Look Neal, I get this is hard - Lee’s your closest friend,”
“He is not -”
“I’m not that fucker’s best friend,”
“I didn’t say best friend did I?! You’re close, okay! And I’m your sister, maybe of you read a book you’d know this happens a lot,”
“What?”
“Ask Amanda, she writes Y/A novels…”
“Getting off track darlin’,” Lee nudges
“Right! Anyway, I like Lee, and I can do whatever the hell I want! So get the hell out so he can bend me over this desk ,”
“Ew!”.
“That’s my girl,”. 
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sherewrytes · 18 days
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ℙ𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕡, 𝕆𝕟𝕪𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕠𝕡𝕠𝕟
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(I'll always want you part Final)
Link for part three here
dividers by @Cafekitsune
Song inspo: Power Trip - J Cole
C.W: angst, drug use, smut. MORE ANGST.
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Ony hadn't seen you since the party. Well, he saw you on campus, at mutual friends' parties, but y'all kept your distance from each other. It's been 18 months since you two broke up and almost a year since Armin's party. Ony had been back in the studio more than ever, working on his upcoming album. Between uni, social media, and studio time, he thought he'd be able to keep his mind off you. But he couldn't. His thoughts always wandered back to you. He'd stalk your socials every now and then and saw that you finally launched your brand, Xerar.
Ony was in the studio, working on a song called "Power Trip" with his producer/rapper best friend Eren for the final track on his album. He was smoking a blunt with Eren, Connie, Armin, and Jean when they started talking about your upcoming fashion show.
Eren: Aye Jean, you going to Xerar's launch man. Jean: Who's throwing that again. I don't keep up much with fashion Armin: You idiot, it's y/n's launch and her fashion show Connie: *Passes blunt to Eren* Man I aint missing that, she's been working on that shit forever. Plus, I gots be there since imma model and shit
Eren passes the blunt to Ony then watches his expression. Ony's eyes widened listening to his friend's conversation. He slowly realized everyone was invited but him. Everyone noticed his silence and quickly switched the topic.
Ony's mind momentarily had a flashback He remembered the nights working with you on your sketches, you bouncing ideas off him. Him helping you pick fabric swatches and the works. Ony felt sick to his stomach.
He moved away from his friends, put on his headphones, and started writing trying to clear his mind and probably work on another single.
Connie watched Ony over in the corner chilling with his headphones in smoking and writing. His aura a bit broken.
Connie playfully shoved Eren and said, "Man, you know he still holds a torch for her. Why you gotta mention it?"
Eren scoffed and said, "It's time he let go, man."
Ony left the studio when no one was looking and headed home. He found himself smoking a cigarette in bed, staring at the ceiling, mind running on times that no longer existed. He sighed, rubbing his hands against his face, he contemplated calling over someone to fuck the thoughts away, but he knew it usually left him feeling worse. He stubbed out his cigarette in the bedside ashtray stared into space hoping the pain would eat him alive.
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Ony was smoking on the balcony of his apartment, looking out at the night sky when his phone rang. He answered without checking it. He heard your voice, "Hey Ony, what's up?"
Ony was shocked that you called but played it cool. "Hey, I'm good. Just on my balcony hittin' a blunt. What made you call me?" You heard Ony inhale through the phone. "Just curious to see how you're doing, Soro."
You calling Ony by his artist's name made him laugh a bit. You asked Ony to come over. You heard him hesitate, then he said OKAY and that the passcode for his apartment door was the same. You laughed and hung up.
Ony confused and in a fit of paranoia called Eren. "Hey man..fuck y/n called me now she's coming over. Idk what to do man."
Eren laughed then told Ony "Bro, calm down, probably take another hit of that blunt you're smokin right now and relax. Some of us sleep in the night man." Ony laughed and ended the call with Eren.
Thirty minutes later, Ony felt your presence before he saw you. You looked the same but different. You were wearing his old navy blue College Dropout hoodie from Kanye West that you stole from him and grey sweat shorts.
Ony watched you sit next to him, sparking up a blunt of your own. You both sat in silence until Ony said, "I'm glad to see you, Y/N." Ony smelled the faint scent of your usual perfume mixed with your favorite bedtime body mist and it had him tweaking a bit.
This was the moment he had been waiting for. The moment when he could really patch things up once and for all. He needed to be as honest as he could to make up for his mistakes. Ony was thinking to himself,
Why do I feel so nervous? I don't care. I have to speak my heart out.
His voice came out a little broken but heavy. "Y/N, I..." Ony's words failed him. It was so hard for him to speak when all he could see was your beautiful face.
"Hi Ony," you said. Hearing your voice in person sent him crazy. He tried to calm his mental. Ony wasn't sure what to say, so he just stared at you while you were smoking your blunt.
You felt him staring you up and down. He watched the moonlight hit your face, and it made him want you. Ony tried to speak again, but nothing came out. He thought to himself again,
Why is it so hard to say 'I love you' to her right now? This is frustrating. I need to say it. I've prepared myself for this. This is my second chance to fix everything. This is my one and only chance to make her happy again. It's time to stop hesitating and open my heart.
Ony watched you stub out your blunt and turn to face him. "Ony, what do you have to say to me?" Ony sighed and poured his heart out.
"Y/N, I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. I cheated, and I can't take that back. But I've been thinkin' 'bout you every damn day. I still love you, and I can't shake that. It's been almost two years, and I should've moved on, but I can't. Every waking moment, every dream is about you. I'm sorry for everything, for causing you so much pain. I just want a chance to make things right."
You sat there in silence, the words hanging heavy in the air.
Ony murmured, "Do you hate me, Y/N? Like, for real, do you?"
Ony was met with silence again. Ony sighed and started up again,
"I still love you, Y/N. I know it's been almost two years. I should move on, be more focused, but every waking moment, every dream is about you. I hate that I cheated and fucked up, Ma."
Ony watched you fix your hair and saw the Versace bracelet he got you still on your wrist. He thought to himself, "Why didn't she return that with all the other stuff?"
He wanted to ask about it but ignored it. He watched you rise from your seat, walk over to the balcony, and stare at the night sky.
Ony opted to change the music playing in the background. He switched it from "Dr. Suess" by Ski Mask to "Power Trip" by J. Cole ft. Miguel.
Ony sat there staring at you and continued smoking until he heard you say, "What do you really want, Ony?"
Ony thought his ears were playing tricks on him, then he responded,
"Are you askin' me what I want right now, Ma?" "Yeah, right now."
He took another hit, then said, "Honestly, I wanna hug you right now. I wanna hold you tight and feel your warmth as I tell you that I love you."
Silence again. Ony watched you fish a blunt out of your lil purse you came with while coming to sit next to him and said, "How about you smoke this with me?"
Ony pulled out his lighter and lit the blunt hanging from your lips in silence, his eyes locked with yours, he was the first to look away. He was lost in thought.
"She so damn beautiful takin' a drag. Missed this. Her lips, damn, so beautiful. First time in forever, I'm seein' it. Thinkin' 'bout kissin' her, scared 'cause we been apart so long. Don't wanna mess this moment."
Ony took the blunt from you and took a drag still deep in thought. *thinking to himself*
"View's beautiful now. Moonlight, city quiet. Us two, world feelin' small. Beautiful moment. Don't want it to end. Enjoyin' it, appreciatin' her bein' here, missed it so much."
With a smile on his face, Ony said, "You the most beautiful woman in this world. I swear you're perfect."
You turn to Ony and said, "Ony, it’s not just about the apology or just buttering me up with sweet words. It’s about trust. You broke it, and I don’t know if we can ever get it back."
He nodded, taking in your words. "I get it. Can't stop thinkin' 'bout us, what we had. What could've been. Tryna move on, stuck in the past."
You took a deep breath, the weight of his words sinking in. "Ony, I’ve tried to move on too. I’ve been focusing on my brand, on myself. But seeing you, hearing you say all this, it brings everything back. I don’t know if I can go through that pain again."
He leaned closer, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, I know I don’t deserve another chance. But I’m asking for one. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I still love you, and I don’t want to spend my life wondering what could have been."
You looked away, the night sky providing a momentary distraction from the intensity of the conversation. "Ony, it’s not that simple. We can’t just go back to how things were. We’ve both changed."
He reached out, gently turning your face back to him. "I know we can’t go back. But maybe we can start over. Build something new, something stronger. Please, Y/N, give us a chance."
You sighed, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. "Ony, I don’t know if I can. But I’m willing to try. One step at a time."
A small smile formed on Ony's lips as he nodded, hope flickering in his eyes. "That’s all I’m asking for. One step at a time."
You both sat there, the silence now filled with a sense of cautious hope. Ony leaned over to kiss you but you exhale smoke directly in to his face. Ony smirked then let out a chuckle. Ony whispered while taking a hit from the blunt in your hands "You know how that gets me ma."
Ony leans in again and kisses you this time exhaling the smoke directly into your mouth as you inhale and kiss him back. Ony watched as your eyes got low and red just like his while they were you were smiling at him made it obvious to him you were blushing heavily.
"I miss that look in your eyes a lot." blunt now forgotten, you and ony were making out heavily. Ony pulled you onto his lap. his hands roamed your body causing you to grind against his clothed body. Ony felt like he was losing his mind having you back with him like this felt like magic. Like a fever dream
As the night wore on, you and Ony talkin', reminiscin', fuckin,ownin' up to mistakes. No fix-all, but a start. Tiny step towards healin', maybe somethin' more down the line.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The shrill sound of Ony's phone alarm shattered the moment, dragging him out of his dreamy haze.
Ony shot up on the bed wiping his face, feelin' hot and sweaty. Thinking out loud he said "It was so real. Like I was really with her... but that ain't possible. It was just a dream."
He gotta admit he miss her so bad. He loves everything about her. Her deep brown eyes, her dark hair, her beautiful face, her gentle and soft smile. He misses the little things about her, even her annoying habits and the small gestures she does without thinkin'.
He wishes it wasn't just a dream. He wishes it was real...
Ony felt like he wanted to scream. He turned off his phone alarm and saw texts from Eren
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Ony felt a scream building in his chest. He turned off his phone alarm and glanced at Eren's texts, irritation bubbling up. Connie had exposed his vulnerability without truly grasping it. Plugging his phone to charge, Ony considered rolling another blunt. He had class today but couldn't bear the thought of facing anyone. Deep down, he knew his self-destructive behavior was spiraling out of control, but he felt powerless to change it.
He roamed around his apartment, trying to clear his mind, then suddenly
BANG BANG BANG
He heard a banging on his apartment door. He kissed his teeth and went to open it and saw. Connie, Armin, Connie, Mikasa and Sasha at his door. He almost slammed the door back in the faces, but Eren pushed the door open letting everyone in. Eren walked straight for where Ony usually kept his stash and dumped out his weed and Eren saw the pills and his eyes teared up almost immediately.
Eren grabbed Ony by the shoulders, attempting to shake some sense into Ony but nothing registered for Ony.
HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON BRO, ONY, ARE YOU HEARING, ARE YOU HIGH ON SUM ONYANKOPON! BRO!
Eren raised his voice trying to talk to Ony but he just stayed silent. Mikasa looked through the pills. There was molly, percs and even some Xanax.
Connie chimed in asking Ony "Floch sold you these pills man like for real. He is the only dude on campus that got this shit."
Ony looked around the room at his friends and all he could think of was you. You'd hate to see him right now. This wasn't the Ony you fell in love with. The one who held your hand, stayed up when you cried about your finals. He was a far cry from that person.
Ony's world was shaken when he saw his older brother and sister walk in his apartment door. He knew what this was. An Intervention. All he prayed that his parents weren't here to see this.
His sister looked at him with sad eyes while his brother was furious.
All his sister said is "Mom and Dad knows, they were gonna disown you but Kwesi (Ony's older brother) explained everything to them. You gotta get help man. You're killing yourself. Are you sure this is all about y/n"
Ony stayed silent for a long moment then said "After finals. I'll get help. Let me just finish finals. That's all. This aint on y/n it's on me. I dont wanna hear anyone blaming her for shit."
Ony walked off, absentmindedly reaching for the cigarettes on the console table when it was pulled out his hand by Sasha.
Ony scoffed leaving everyone in the living room area, to sit out on the balcony alone. He needed a moment to just think.
He grabbed his iPad sitting on the table and mindlessly scrolled through IG when he saw a picture of you cuddled up with Lead Singer of the band ErrxR Reiner Braun. He dropped his iPad, watching the screen crack on the ground.
The little hope he had in his heart, that you and he could be once again is long gone. You moved on leaving him truly alone in the chaos of his own doing.
The End
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cat3ch1sm · 9 months
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hii i think this is my first time requesting from you so hopefully I do it right..
can you do sfw headcannons of Hisoka, illumi, and Kurapika with an s/o who has a terrifying nen aura? like stronger and more menacing then theirs? and can you do gender neutral reader? thanks :]
🕷️~ hello!! welcome to my inbox 💚 thanks for your request! if you’re ever wondering what info to put in a request just view the pinned post on my profile! tyy <33
(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) gn!reader, sfw
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𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐤𝐚, 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚
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hisoka
hisoka isn’t usually fazed by anyone’s aura because his own is so overpowering. his aura is just so eerie and unsettling that he never needs to pay any mind to anyone else’s because he’s usually the one people stay away from. but when you enter the picture, that all changes. the second you even enter a building every person in there is instantly weighed down by the darkness and menace of your aura, including hisoka, and he can’t help but feel fearful because that is simply the only emotion your aura allows anyone around it to feel. but fear doesn’t affect hisoka like it does other people. rather, he’s intrigued.
hisoka obviously has a thing for people who can kill him, so he likes to be around you just for the twisted euphoria he experiences of being actually genuinely scared. he knows that if you wanted to or he made one wrong move, that you could kill him in a second, and that fills him with an uncanny amount of pleasure. as a matter of fact, he’ll regularly push your boundaries just to feel the rush when your aura spikes. it’s like his favorite thing to do
illumi
okay let me just say you’ve gotta be pretty goddamn scary to overshadow an aura like illumi’s. even when he’s not trying he’s still scary as shit 🙏🏾
illumi isn’t someone who normally feels things like fear, anxiety, anything along those lines. but when he first encounters you, he can’t deny the overpowering sense of dread he’s filled with when he’s even near you. it’s not like he’s legitimately scared of you or anything, but it’s more like trepidation is literally forced into him. like he has no choice but to fear your aura. this is a brand-new thing to him, too- not even the phantom troupe or anyone in his family has such an awful presence. and to be honest, illumi doesn’t like having the tables turned on him- he’s usually the one people run away from and go out of their way to avoid.
i imagine he’d watch you from a distance for a while- either by having needle people go keep tabs on you or by constructing some other nen tactic so he can observe you. the dread that comes with being too close to you and that horrible aura is too much for him to handle for now, especially since like i said it’s a new feeling. i think only after illumi has watched you long enough to discover a weakness that he’s able to exploit would he go and approach you, so if you try and pull something illumi can have a better chance at taking you out.
illumi’s next thought, though, is to make an ally out of you- and what better way to do that than have you literally join his family? that’s what causes him to seek you out in a “romantic” way- his goal is literally immediately just to marry you so you become a zoldyck and can’t turn against him.
i feel like during the relationship illumi might be a bit distant for the reasons i listed earlier. also illumi just isn’t a clingy or affectionate person. with how powerful your nen is and the hostile nature of your aura illumi isn’t inclined to be near you often. basically you both just do your own thing, but illumi does keep tabs on you and still doesn’t let you see other people. not that anybody wants to because you’re scary but still😭
kurapika
realistically, i doubt kurapika would be with anyone whose aura is this horrible. it reminds him way too much of the spiders. and in his mind, nobody with an aura as ghastly as yours can mean anything good for anyone. plus, kurapika has destructive tendencies of his own, so having someone even worse than him around would not benefit him at all. so i think he’d want to stay far away from you, and would be protective of those around him when you’re near.
but because these are headcanons and we are supposed to be delusional, let’s say that kurapika isn’t immediately deterred by your nightmarish aura. his mind goes a similar route to illumi’s, so Kurapika is going to want to get you on his side for sure. he isn’t someone who approaches people that much, so he devises a situation in which you both can be alone so he can try and develop some sort of bond which you can build on.
usually Kurapika would be more protective than not of people he’s in a relationship with, but not with you. he kind of keeps his distance, actually. if you want to do something dangerous or deadly he just steps back and lets you. he doesn’t feel the need to protect you at all, more so like protecting other people from you lmao 😭
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these were mid asf but it’s 2 am 💔 i hope u enjoyed <33
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