Tumgik
#In order to keep the line up fresh
staff · 10 months
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Tumblr’s Core Product Strategy
Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on reorganizing how we work in a bid to gain more users. A larger user base means a more sustainable company, and means we get to stick around and do this thing with you all a bit longer. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. The @labs group has published a bit already, but this is bigger. We’re publishing it publicly for the first time, in an effort to work more transparently with all of you in the Tumblr community. This strategy provides guidance amid limited resources, allowing our teams to focus on specific key areas to ensure Tumblr’s future.
The Diagnosis
In order for Tumblr to grow, we need to fix the core experience that makes Tumblr a useful place for users. The underlying problem is that Tumblr is not easy to use. Historically, we have expected users to curate their feeds and lean into curating their experience. But this expectation introduces friction to the user experience and only serves a small portion of our audience. 
Tumblr’s competitive advantage lies in its unique content and vibrant communities. As the forerunner of internet culture, Tumblr encompasses a wide range of interests, such as entertainment, art, gaming, fandom, fashion, and music. People come to Tumblr to immerse themselves in this culture, making it essential for us to ensure a seamless connection between people and content. 
To guarantee Tumblr’s continued success, we’ve got to prioritize fostering that seamless connection between people and content. This involves attracting and retaining new users and creators, nurturing their growth, and encouraging frequent engagement with the platform.
Our Guiding Principles
To enhance Tumblr’s usability, we must address these core guiding principles.
Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.
Provide high-quality content with every app launch.
Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.
Retain and grow our creator base.
Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.
Improve the platform’s performance, stability, and quality.
Below is a deep dive into each of these principles.
Principle 1: Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.
Tumblr has a “top of the funnel” issue in converting non-users into engaged logged-in users. We also have not invested in industry standard SEO practices to ensure a robust top of the funnel. The referral traffic that we do get from external sources is dispersed across different pages with inconsistent user experiences, which results in a missed opportunity to convert these users into regular Tumblr users. For example, users from search engines often land on pages within the blog network and blog view—where there isn’t much of a reason to sign up. 
We need to experiment with logged-out tumblr.com to ensure we are capturing the highest potential conversion rate for visitors into sign-ups and log-ins. We might want to explore showing the potential future user the full breadth of content that Tumblr has to offer on our logged-out pages. We want people to be able to easily understand the potential behind Tumblr without having to navigate multiple tabs and pages to figure it out. Our current logged-out explore page does very little to help users understand “what is Tumblr.” which is a missed opportunity to get people excited about joining the site.
Actions & Next Steps
Improving Tumblr’s search engine optimization (SEO) practices to be in line with industry standards.
Experiment with logged out tumblr.com to achieve the highest conversion rate for sign-ups and log-ins, explore ways for visitors to “get” Tumblr and entice them to sign up.
Principle 2: Provide high-quality content with every app launch.
We need to ensure the highest quality user experience by presenting fresh and relevant content tailored to the user’s diverse interests during each session. If the user has a bad content experience, the fault lies with the product.
The default position should always be that the user does not know how to navigate the application. Additionally, we need to ensure that when people search for content related to their interests, it is easily accessible without any confusing limitations or unexpected roadblocks in their journey.
Being a 15-year-old brand is tough because the brand carries the baggage of a person’s preconceived impressions of Tumblr. On average, a user only sees 25 posts per session, so the first 25 posts have to convey the value of Tumblr: it is a vibrant community with lots of untapped potential. We never want to leave the user believing that Tumblr is a place that is stale and not relevant. 
Actions & Next Steps
Deliver great content each time the app is opened.
Make it easier for users to understand where the vibrant communities on Tumblr are. 
Improve our algorithmic ranking capabilities across all feeds. 
Principle 3: Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.
Part of Tumblr’s charm lies in its capacity to showcase the evolution of conversations and the clever remarks found within reblog chains and replies. Engaging in these discussions should be enjoyable and effortless.
Unfortunately, the current way that conversations work on Tumblr across replies and reblogs is confusing for new users. The limitations around engaging with individual reblogs, replies only applying to the original post, and the inability to easily follow threaded conversations make it difficult for users to join the conversation.
Actions & Next Steps
Address the confusion within replies and reblogs.
Improve the conversational posting features around replies and reblogs. 
Allow engagements on individual replies and reblogs.
Make it easier for users to follow the various conversation paths within a reblog thread. 
Remove clutter in the conversation by collapsing reblog threads. 
Explore the feasibility of removing duplicate reblogs within a user’s Following feed. 
Principle 4: Retain and grow our creator base.
Creators are essential to the Tumblr community. However, we haven’t always had a consistent and coordinated effort around retaining, nurturing, and growing our creator base.  
Being a new creator on Tumblr can be intimidating, with a high likelihood of leaving or disappointment upon sharing creations without receiving engagement or feedback. We need to ensure that we have the expected creator tools and foster the rewarding feedback loops that keep creators around and enable them to thrive.
The lack of feedback stems from the outdated decision to only show content from followed blogs on the main dashboard feed (“Following”), perpetuating a cycle where popular blogs continue to gain more visibility at the expense of helping new creators. To address this, we need to prioritize supporting and nurturing the growth of new creators on the platform.
It is also imperative that creators, like everyone on Tumblr, feel safe and in control of their experience. Whether it be an ask from the community or engagement on a post, being successful on Tumblr should never feel like a punishing experience.
Actions & Next Steps
Get creators’ new content in front of people who are interested in it. 
Improve the feedback loop for creators, incentivizing them to continue posting.
Build mechanisms to protect creators from being spammed by notifications when they go viral.
Expand ways to co-create content, such as by adding the capability to embed Tumblr links in posts.
Principle 5: Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.
Push notifications and emails are essential tools to increase user engagement, improve user retention, and facilitate content discovery. Our strategy of reaching out to you, the user, should be well-coordinated across product, commercial, and marketing teams.
Our messaging strategy needs to be personalized and adapt to a user’s shifting interests. Our messages should keep users in the know on the latest activity in their community, as well as keeping Tumblr top of mind as the place to go for witty takes and remixes of the latest shows and real-life events.  
Most importantly, our messages should be thoughtful and should never come across as spammy.  
Actions & Next Steps
Conduct an audit of our messaging strategy.
Address the issue of notifications getting too noisy; throttle, collapse or mute notifications where necessary.  
Identify opportunities for personalization within our email messages. 
Test what the right daily push notification limit is. 
Send emails when a user has push notifications switched off.
Principle 6: Performance, stability and quality.
The stability and performance of our mobile apps have declined. There is a large backlog of production issues, with more bugs created than resolved over the last 300 days. If this continues, roughly one new unresolved production issue will be created every two days. Apps and backend systems that work well and don't crash are the foundation of a great Tumblr experience. Improving performance, stability, and quality will help us achieve sustainable operations for Tumblr.
Improve performance and stability: deliver crash-free, responsive, and fast-loading apps on Android, iOS, and web.
Improve quality: deliver the highest quality Tumblr experience to our users. 
Move faster: provide APIs and services to unblock core product initiatives and launch new features coming out of Labs.
Conclusion
Our mission has always been to empower the world’s creators. We are wholly committed to ensuring Tumblr evolves in a way that supports our current users while improving areas that attract new creators, artists, and users. You deserve a digital home that works for you. You deserve the best tools and features to connect with your communities on a platform that prioritizes the easy discoverability of high-quality content. This is an invigorating time for Tumblr, and we couldn’t be more excited about our current strategy.
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moonlesslights · 10 months
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Miguel O’hara in Love
Headcanons.
━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━
A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.
Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)
This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.
Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍
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Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.
You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.
And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.
What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.
You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.
The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.
He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.
You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.
“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”
You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.
“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.
“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”
“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”
The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.
That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.
“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.
You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.
“For real?”
“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”
His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.
“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.
He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.
Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.
No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.
Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.
Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.
“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.
Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.
History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.
You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.
No. You would never find out about that.
Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.
But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.
“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:
“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.
“I know.”
“You could have hurt yourself.”
“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”
He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.
He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.
“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.
“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.
“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”
That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?
Were you really that bored?
“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.
You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.
“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”
You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.
Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.
He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.
You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?
“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.
He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.
He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.
When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”
You nod without waiting for another question.
“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.
It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.
Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.
He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.
It wasn’t that big of a deal…
Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.
He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.
With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.
“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”
“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.
“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”
Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”
“Miguel…”
“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”
When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.
“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.
“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.
“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.
You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.
It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.
His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.
The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.
“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.
“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.
“Need help?”
You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”
“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.
But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.
You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.
Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.
His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.
“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.
“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”
“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.
But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.
“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.
“I’m…”
“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.
And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.
And then… A call.
He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.
His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.
“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”
“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.
“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.
“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”
And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.
“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”
He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.
“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.
“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.
“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”
The woman, for the first time, remains silent.
“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”
A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.
She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.
She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.
Miguel wanted to own you.
He wasn’t good at hiding it.
His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.
Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.
But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.
When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.
“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.
He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.
“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.
You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.
The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.
You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.
“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.
“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.
You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.
You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.
But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.
“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.
“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.
You nod.
“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.
You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.
“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.
He was so close, he just needed…
“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.
You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.
He was ready for the next round.
Thank you so much for coming all this way!
PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.
This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.
I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.
Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3
PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!
PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.
13K notes · View notes
rafesaddiction · 7 months
Text
It's not cheating when he’s your enemy – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader
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see here for part 2 and here for part 2.5
Summary: Rafe Cameron is the reason why you fought with your boyfriend. Rafe Cameron is the reason why you lost your job. Rafe Cameron is the reason why you moan and whimper shamelessly.
Concept: enemies, hate sex
Warnings: mdni! – smut, hate sex, rough sex, p in v, violence, choking, spitting (on rafe), cursing, name calling (rafe calls reader whore), cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), mean!rafe
Word count: 3.9k
“How about a smile with that, hm?” Rafe Cameron grinned at you as you placed the glass in front of him on the table. Your eyes narrowed and you glared at him, but that smug grin of his only grew wider, and his kook friends sitting at the table with him snickered and watched the scene with amusement.
It was bad enough that you had to work today, not being in the best of moods after a fight with your boyfriend earlier – or more exactly, a fight with your boyfriend and his best friend. But you had to take the evening shift at the Wreck, because your landlord had assured you, he'd kick you out if you were late on the rent again. You needed the money and your cleaning job just didn't pay enough. And usually working at the Wreck was fine. Mike was a fair boss and Anna always had a nice word for you. The tips weren't as generous as at the country club, but the customers were usually much nicer. Well, usually. Not so much tonight.
You had seen – or actually heard them, the moment they had come into the restaurant; the kook prince and his cronies. Not waiting to be seated, they just chose a table and sat down, as if they had a right to do so, as if they were entitled to do anything they wanted. You frowned, when you saw them, having just written down the order from much nicer guests – a tourist couple, who must have been puzzled at your sudden change of attitude. You usually had no problem with keeping a friendly face to customers, or at least look at them in a neutral way, but the moment you saw Rafe Cameron walk in like he owned the place, you just couldn't hide your anger.
And of course, Rafe and his friends had chosen one of your tables. If it hadn't been so busy that night, you might have asked your colleague to swap tables. But as it was, you clenched your teeth and walked over to their table, placing the pitcher with fresh water and glasses on the table, ready to take their order – avoiding looking at them, especially at Rafe.
But his words made you look up from the water jug you held in your hand.
“C’mon, y/n, show us that pretty smile of yours, and I might even give you a nice tip”, the asshole had the audacity to wink at you.
You glared at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. You were fuming. Your hand clenching around the handle of the pitcher. And the blond kook just kept smiling at you his arrogant smile that others might have found charming, which only drove you mad.
So instead of pouring the water into the glasses on the table, you poured the pitcher's whole content onto Rafe Cameron's lap, drenching his expensive pants. – A pity actually that it was only water and not some boiling hot coffee.
Rafe quickly moved back, the chair making a screeching sound on the wooden floor, as he jumped to his feet. Now looking anything but amused, he looked down at himself.
“The fuck?”
And it was your turn to smirk, just a little triumphant smirk, while you glared at him and extended your arm, flipping him the bird, right at his stupid face.
You turned on your heels and walked back to the bar, hearing one of the kook boys say, “dude, she really hates you.” And Rafe replied, “nah, she wants me bad,” which resulted in all of them laughing.
And you growled. You hated those bastards. You hated them so damn much.
Behind the counter, you put down the empty pitcher with a loud thud – even though you felt more like throwing that thing at Rafe.
You tried to compose yourself, you really did, but, of course, Mike had seen what happened. And instead of being on your side and kicking those arrogant kooks out, he came at you, told you to go and apologize.
“I won’t! He’s a fucking asshole, acting like he owns half the island!” You glared at your boss.
“Well, his father does,” Mike said, “now go and apologize and tell him, whatever they order is on the house.”
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at Mike as if he was talking in a different language.
“You apologize or you can leave. For good.” The features on the man's face had become stern.
You should do the reasonable thing, you needed this job. But your temper got the best of you. You were so angry, so damn furious, and Mike taking their side was just too much to take. You literally had enough.
“Screw you,” you snapped, crumpled the cloth you used for cleaning tables and threw it at Mike.
He frowned at you and pointed at the door.
And you walked out, walked out of that damn restaurant in which those fucking kooks were surely laughing at the scene they just witnessed. You were a joke to them. You pogues always were nothing more than a joke to them. It made you furious.
Outside you kicked a random car parked in front of the restaurant, wishing it was Rafe's – but it looked more like some old folks' family car than anything Rafe would drive.
“Fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em all,” you cursed, and your foot hurt, but you kept on walking, stomping actually, blinking angry tears away.
You just had lost your job because of Rafe-fucking-Cameron! The same guy that had been the reason for your fight with your boyfriend earlier that day.
You hated that guy. You had always hated Rafe, but now you hated him more than ever.
This morning, on his usual delivery run for Heyward, your boyfriend had been jumped by Rafe and one of his friends. And they had beaten him up so bad, he had gotten home with a limp, his left eye swollen, his nose bleeding. Seeing him like that hurt so much, you almost cried. His best friend, who was there with you, looked at your boyfriend shocked, and worried, before his quick temper took over. That boy was always short-tempered and would rather act than think. He was furious. While you were attending your boyfriend's wounds, his best friend was pacing the small place, raising his fists, clenching them, rambling on about how he would make Rafe pay for that. He also seemed mad at himself for not having been there for his best friend, not having been able to defend him. So he was more determined now to make it right, as he called it.
He swore revenge and was forming a plan. Usually, they would just try and fight Rafe and his friends at the next opportunity. But this seemed different. And your boyfriend seemed to be hurt more than just by the wounds you could see. You weren't sure, but you had a feeling that something else must have happened with Rafe, something more serious, something hurting not just his body, but his pride too. Because otherwise, your boyfriend would have never agreed to the stupid plan his best friend came up with. Stealing Rafe's dirt bike and sinking it to the bottom of the ocean. It wasn't even a real plan, it was just stupid.
“He'll know that it was you! And he'll have you arrested for it.”
“So what?”
“So what? You can go to jail! Don't be so dumb! You can both go to jail for this and you'll ruin your future just because of some stupid fight!” You yelled at your boyfriend's best friend, but there was no reasoning with him.
But what was worse, your own boyfriend didn't want to see that you were right. He was so infuriated. He had jumped to his feet and was ready to take Rafe and any cop. And he wanted to hurt him, hurt him so bad.
When you tried to talk to him, tried to calm him down, tried to make him see reason, he just shoved you away, and he suddenly seemed angry at you, accusing you of not understanding him. And his best friend accused you of not caring about your own boyfriend. And that fucking hurt. The two of them had always been close, very close, and you sometimes felt a pang of jealousy, because even though you were his girlfriend, it seemed as if there was some part of him you would never fully get.
So you had left the two of them planning their revenge, coming up with some stupid plan that would not make anything right that had been done to your boyfriend or to any of you pogues.
And the thought of that made you furious right now.
You balled your hands into fists, clenching so hard, you felt your nails digging into your palms.
You hadn't paid attention to where you were going when you had stormed out of the Wreck and you had been walking for some time now, anger driving you onwards, as you found yourself close to the Cameron's pier.
Rage was clouding your judgement, but you knew you had to do something, anything. It just couldn't go on like this. Rafe Cameron hurting everyone and destroying everything and just getting away with it.
You didn't have a plan what to do when you broke into the shack where they stored boat stuff and other things. It wasn't the first time you had broken into somewhere, but it was the first time you were on your own. Usually the other pogues would be with you. But you could do this on your own. And you did care about your boyfriend, no matter what his best friend said. You were a pogue just like them.
Inside it was dark and you had to feel your way round, careful not to bump into anything. You used your phone's flashlight to see, but you weren't really sure what you were looking for. Maybe you could find boat keys and take his boat? Stupid plan, but whatever. You had to do something, anything. Goddamn, you hated that guy.
“Anything I can help you with?”
You froze when you heard that dark voice. The lights had suddenly turned on, blinding you for a second. You blinked and saw him. Fuck. Rafe Cameron standing at the door, blocking the only exit. Tilting his head to the side, he looked right at you.
“What you doing here?” You couldn't help but ask, even though you knew it was a dumb question, but you were genuinely puzzled. He had just been at the Wreck with his friends – getting you fired – and now he was here of all places?
“This is MY property. What the hell are you doing here?”
Fuck, he was right. You wouldn't admit it, but he had a point. And suddenly you were questioning your own reason. It was such a stupid idea, breaking in here. All you wanted now was to get out, get away as fast as possible before Rafe would call the cops. So instead of answering, you darted for the exit as he moved a few steps into the room. But he was quicker, stepped to the side, so you almost crashed right into him.
He caught you, his big hand wrapping around your arm. You flinched at how tight his grip was.
“Fuck, let me go!” You tried to wriggle out of his grip, and hit his chest with your free hand.
Rafe grabbed your other arm too, pulling you closer to his much larger body.
“Let go, asshole!” You yelled at him, not giving up your fighting yet, though it seemed impossible to free yourself from his grip.
“Won't do. You broke into my property and stole something from me.” He glared down at you, his eyes narrowed – the blue in them reminded you of the sky on the day before the hurricane hit the island a few weeks ago.
“I didn't take anything!” Your voice strained and you were panting from your struggling.
He raised his eyebrows as he glared at you.
“A liar and a thief. I'll check for myself what you took.”
He let go off one of your arms, just to use his free hand to grip your waist, pulling you against his body, his broad chest pressing against your upper body, so close, you could hardly move your free arm between the bodies.
But his hand didn't rest, he was touching, grabbing, tugging, actually patting you down.
His large hand found your ass and that intimate touch caused a different kind of sensation. Something much hotter.
You wriggled in his arms, making your bodies only rub harder against each other.
“Fuck, let go!” You hissed, as breathing became harder.
You tried to kick him, but couldn't really lift your leg, you were too close to his overpowering body.
“Fucking asshole!” You spat at him.
And Rafe's hand gripped your jaws, so hard, you winced. Your mouth opening as you gasped.
Instead of tasting the air, you felt his lips crushing down on yours as he had suddenly closed the space and was kissing you, kissing you fiercely and hard.
Your eyes fluttered close. For a moment you were completely taken aback, overwhelmed by this unexpected intimate touch, a kiss so fierce and rough you had never tasted before.
It only lasted a second, and you pushed him away, pushed yourself away from him enough, so you could move your arm, and you smacked his cheek so hard, his head whipped to the side.
Obviously surprising him, he let go off you, rubbing his cheek, and looking at you as if in disbelief. His mouth opened, those lips you had just felt on yours.
And you stood there two steps away, chest heaving, panting, glaring, fuming, feeling that tingling on your lips, feeling that throbbing pain from his touch on your arms, feeling his presence so strongly, feeling this incredible heat in your own body, something hotter than rage coursing through your veins, feeling that sudden pull.
You lunged forward, and he just gazed at you, and your hands gripped around his neck as you pulled yourself up, legs wrapping around his waist, and your mouth meeting his in an angry kiss.
Rafe reacted in an instant, kissing you back, even fiercer than before. It felt like he was devouring you. And you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, as you rocked your hips against his. But the friction you caused with your fervent movements wasn't enough to make that throbbing between your legs stop. Both his hands grabbed your ass, gripped it like it was something that belonged to him, only to him. It made you furious, and clenching with need.
Your hands grabbed his hair, pulling at it. He growled in response, right into your open mouth. Pushing his tongue in, he claimed that too.
The heels of your feet dug into his back, as you pulled yourself closer to him. Feeling his hard cock pressing against you made you mutter the most embarrassing sounds, hardly muffled by his greedy kiss.
Suddenly he moved and you felt how your ass hit something.
The kiss broke and you hissed as you found yourself on a workbench, cluttered with all kinds of tools, which Rafe shoved away with his arm, making them clatter on the floor, before setting you down on the surface.
You braced yourself with your elbows on the bench, looking up at Rafe, who impatiently tugged down your shorts and panties. Your sandals dropped to the floor as well.
You tried to get up and grab his shirt to pull it off of him, but he pushed you back down on the bench, making you flinch at his roughness and at the same time you felt your legs opening for him, as you saw him take that shirt off himself. You couldn't help but gaze at his muscles. His body was so well-shaped, it was ridiculous how he could be real.
Your attention was directed further down, as you heard him unzip his pants.
You were only able to catch a glimpse of his cock, but it was enough to make you gasp – he was huge – before he pushed into you.
The sudden pain made you cry out. Your eyes going back into your head as you felt so incredibly full. You didn't even try to suppress your shameless moans as he ruthlessly thrust into you. Your walls clamping, the feeling became so intense, your body was shivering while you were burning up.
You heard Rafe's animalistic growl and that sound drove your own lust even further.
His hand at the back of your neck, he pulled you up, his lips hovering over yours, his hot breath mingling with yours.
Rafe pulled you closer, and as he fucked you, your ass was pressed against the edge of the bench, surely leaving bruises.
But you left bruises and marks on his body too. Your hands grabbing, your nails scratching his back. When he kissed you, you bit him, feeling how he tensed up and go harder on you. You felt your climax approaching, felt your body burning up with need, clenching so hard around him.
And he must have felt it too, because you could sense something shift. But instead of giving you what you wanted, giving you what your body so desperately needed, he grinned into the messy kiss and suddenly pulled out. You gazed at him, your face flushed, your lips sore from those biting kisses, and you were so surprised that it was easy for him to unwrap himself off your legs.
Your naked feet touched the cold floor and you could hardly stand. But you didn't have too.
Before you could question what the hell he was doing, he grabbed you, turned you around and bent you over the workbench.
You exhaled an angry breath and your hands clawed at the surface of the bench, while he turned your head sideways and pressed down on it, your cheek on the rough wood. You tried to look up at him, but couldn't move your head to see properly. But you didn't need to see what he was doing, you could feel it a few seconds later.
Your legs were spread and a rough hand rubbed between them. You were soaking wet. You had been wet from the moment his lips had claimed yours. You had no time to get annoyed at how that must have amused him, because the next moment, he was taking your breath away as his thick cock thrust into you. Harder and deeper now. You wouldn't have believed that to be possible, but he was fucking you now with even more of that rough and ruthless vigor. He was quite literally using you, as his cock was hammering into you. Your body trembled and shuddered and you moaned and whimpered and you were so far gone.
Rafe took you as if you were his, as if he could use you as he pleased – and you wanted nothing else than to be used by him in that moment.
Your walls clenching so hard around him, you felt fuller than possible.
But despite being at his mercy, despite having turned into his fucktoy, despite your traitorous body enjoying being used like that, you couldn't help yourself.
One hand reached back, touching his hip.
“Harder,” you urged him, panting. “Harder,” you repeated, breathlessly, as if you didn't already feel like you might pass out any minute, because it was too much, because your body couldn't possible take anymore.
He growled. And the sound made you shudder.
And you almost regretted your words, but at the same time, you felt your clit throbbing, your whole body buzzing with a need you had never felt before.
His arm wrapped around your neck from behind and he pulled you up, pulled you up standing on your toes, your back arching. The back of your head against his shoulder. His arm pressed against your throat, making it hard to breathe and impossible to speak. You could only whine as he slammed into from behind. Your fingernails digging into his arm's hard muscle, while your eyes fluttered shut.
You lost it all, all sense of reason and self control, as he fucked you through your earth-shattering orgasm. Fucked you relentlessly. Fucked you without restrained. Fucked you into oblivion.
You were undone and he kept going. Taking you without mercy, using you. And when he gasped and you felt him push so deep inside you, hitting a spot yet untouched, another wave rolled over you. You hadn't felt it building up, but it was like your body was synced with his, and the moment he came inside you, spilling his load deep into you, your walls clenched around him, as if trying to hold him there, and you came, harder this time, with him.
When he pulled out and let go off you, you just collapsed forward onto the workbench. Coughing, finally able to breathe, you tried to regain your senses.
Your legs were trembling and you could already feel his cum dripping out of you, running down your thigh.
You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or open, as you still just saw stars dancing in front of your eyes.
The sound of a low chuckle behind you made you finally able to return to reality – and realize your exposed position, bent over the workbench, your legs spread, your ass up, cum dripping out of your throbbing pussy.
You groaned as you pushed yourself up and turned. Every fucking muscle in your body hurt. You knew you would be sore for days. And when you caught that smirk on Rafe's face as he put on his shirt watching you with that glint in his eyes, you knew he was thinking the same.
You smoothed your rumpled top, crouched down to pick up your shorts. Somehow you couldn't find your panties between all those tools scattered on the floor, so you pulled on your shorts without panties. You flinched at the friction the rough fabric caused. You'd definitely be sore for days.
Frowning, you slipped into your sandals.
Your eyes moved over to Rafe. He was fully dressed and despite his somewhat heavy breathing and the sweat glistening on his forehead, he seemed all composed as he was leaning against another workbench opposite of you, just a few feet away. His hair a mess though, you noted with a certain kind of satisfaction.
A smirk danced around his lips as he watched you trying to comb your own hair with your fingers.
“What?” You frowned at him.
He shrugged, pushed himself off the bench and slowly came closer.
“Just realized, it's true what they say.”
Your frown deepened as you glared at him questioningly.
“The filthiest whores come from the Cut.”
You spat right at his face.
“Fucking asshole,” you hissed and turned to leave. From the corner of your eyes you could see how he wiped away your spit from his cheek, and looked at it, chuckling in amusement.
You didn't turn when you walked through the door. You tried not to show it, but each step hurt like hell. And what was worse, your core was aching with need.
a/n: thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Comments, reblogs, likes, and any kind of feedback are very welcome. You may also have a guess who the reader's boyfriend might be. And his best friend...
This is the start of a concept series of oneshots.
3K notes · View notes
quartzalynlove · 5 months
Text
Coming Home Injured
Pairing: Liu Kang, Kenshi, Johnny Cage, Raiden, Sub Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile x fem!reader (separately)
Summary: returning from a mission with a few bad injuries
Warnings: Canon typical violence, some descriptions of bad wounds
A/N: let's see if I can make personalized pet names for each of them without them being cringe. Feedback encouraged. Also if we're gonna keep writing for all 8 of these guys at once it's gonna take a minute for me to post so sorry abt that but more mk1 content is coming
Liu Kang
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The two of you sat in silence from the moment you returned home. You had completed the mission, but only by an inch of your life. The image of Liu Kang's concerned face, before you fainted in his arms, was still clear in your head.
Liu Kang assessed your injuries before treating them, trying not to be alarmed by the long, deep gash cut from your side into your abdomen. All the while, that look on his face never faded. You had seen Liu Kang when he was concerned many times, but this was different. That crease between his brows was deeper for some reason. As his hands shook, uncharacteristically, while he cleaned your wound, you finally identified the expression. It was the same one you saw when Kenshi lost his sight on the mission to capture Shang Tsung.
"Darling," your voice was weak as you looked down at him.
Immediately, Liu Kang's eyes shot up at you. With his worry growing, he placed a hand on your thigh.
"My light, please do not exert yourself."
Slowly, your hand took hold of his. Your grip was so weak that Liu Kang could hardly bear it. Instead, he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. You felt a shuddering breath against your skin as he pulled away.
"Don't you think you're a bit too concerned?" You asked.
With deep regret, Liu Kang bowed his head, not able to look at what he'd done to you.
"You shouldn't have returned this injured," his low voice started to break. "I shouldn't have—"
You stopped him before he could say another thing, "Lift your head," you told him.
Liu Kang looked up at you, slowly, his breaths still heavy and unsteady.
"You used your judgment as well as you could, and I fulfilled your orders. I came back to you."
Starting to calm, Liu Kang nodded in understanding.
"Not every round of Kombat is easy, but I'll be okay."
Upon seeing your reassuring smile, Liu Kang's breathing finally steadied, and his grip on your hand started to soften.
Kenshi
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You winced in pain as Kenshi finished a stitch on a rather brutal injury. If he hadn't gotten to you sooner, the blood loss would have killed you. What you did lose on your staggering trek back home already made you lightheaded. Kenshi insisted on you resting; he made you something to eat and made sure you were drinking water. As you laid on the couch, resting yourself after a tough mission, Kenshi was rubbing your feet. You noticed his clenched jaw and the tight line his lips formed. Part of you wished you could sit up and hold his face, but you didn't want to risk popping a stitch while it was still fresh.
"What's on your mind, Kenshi?"
He turned toward your voice before trying to dismiss you with a shake of his head. "Nothing, my flower. Please try to rest."
"Don't say 'nothing' when it's clearly something, love."
You didn't say anything else, still too out of it to try and coax anything else from him. Thankfully, he wasn't going to make you do the work.
"I should've been there," He said quietly. "If I were there to protect you, you this wouldn't have happened."
Kenshi was such a gentleman, your very own knight in shining armor, but he often piled too much on his plate without noticing. He did know he didn't have to save you every time, didn't he?
A lazy smile graced your face, "Honey, I'm fine." You told him.
"You aren't fine—"
You interrupted, "I'll be fine," you said slowly. "You've patched my wounds, forced food and water down my throat, and you're even keeping me company here and rubbing my feet. You've saved me already, my hero."
Kenshi sighed as your words put him at ease, silently accepting that you were right.
"Besides," you continued. "I'm a big girl; I can handle myself. You should ask Sento to show you the other guy."
As Kenshi started to chuckle, you wore a proud smile before feeling yourself fall asleep on the couch.
Johnny Cage
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Johnny was all over the place. While you held onto your side on the couch, he searched the area frantically for God knows what. All you could hear was his half-rambled sentences around.
"Johnny." You tried to get his attention.
He stopped for just a second just to point a finger at you. "Hey, don't move over there. I just gotta..."
As he left again, you let your head fall back, sighing in pain.
"I'm calling Liu Kang." You said.
Something in the kitchen clattered as Johnny shouted. "No, don't call him; I've got this!"
"I've been bleeding on our couch for five minutes!"
Sighing, Johnny came back again and looked at you. In any other circumstance, it would be cute how frantic he was over you. Unfortunately, however, your life was at stake and he was running around the house like the Roadrunner. Finally, Johnny finished assessing your injuries.
"Water," he snapped his fingers. "I'll get you some water."
"Johnny!" You stopped him before he could take off again.
In Johnny's defense, he was very worried. It was written all over his face. As you sighed, you spoke to him very carefully.
"I keep a first aid kit in the bathroom cabinet."
With many understanding nods, Johnny seemed to calm down before heading to the bathroom.
"First aid kit," he said to himself. "Why didn't I think of that?"
Raiden
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You didn't know how you were still alive, and if it weren't for Raiden, you'd surely be dead. Once you got through the portal, you tried to make it home to him, but Raiden ended up finding you collapsed on the academy grounds as blood quickly made a pool around your stomach. When you came to, the only sensation you could make out was Raiden's feet striking the ground as he ran with you in his arms. You must have managed to say something because you saw his eyes meet yours before darkness obstructed your vision again
The next time you woke you were somewhere indoors. A bright yellow light blinded you before your eyes could adjust. You felt Raiden squeeze your hand as your head turned.
"You're awake." He gasped.
All you could muster was a faint smile. That searing pain from the gash that opened your stomach still wasn't gone.
"Not for long." You said weakly.
Raiden's face became worried as he inched closer to you from his chair at your side.
"I must keep you awake," he said almost as a plea to you. "I've taken you to the medics, and they said if you wake I couldn't let you close your eyes again."
You whined with a frown. "It hurts, Raiden."
Raiden brought his free hand on top of yours, trying to comfort you with small rubs.
"I know, but I am here. I've got you."
As you looked at Raiden, the pain seemed to lessen. Everything felt warmer as long as you focused on him.
"I bet Shao thought he killed me." You said.
A bright smile appeared on Raiden's face at your decision to stay with him. "He is in for a surprise the next time you meet."
Sub Zero
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You were a victim of Bi-Han's cold frustration. Honestly, it agitated you more than the searing pain caused by the cleaning of the open wound across your side.
From the moment you came back to him, limping through the front door with the last of your strength, he didn't utter a sound. You remained in awkward silence as he had you sit on the kitchen counter with your back straight while he patched you up.
As he stitched you up, Bi-Han was moving at a harsh pace. It wouldn't harm your wound, but it was almost more painful than the wound itself. Bi-Han was aware of the sharp breaths you sucked in and pained gasps, but they were no deterrent to quickness.
"Bi-Han," you finally snapped at him.
With a cocked eyebrow, Bi-Han stepped back, eyeing you with such an icy glare and that scowl you thought wasn't welcome in your home.
Your eyes searched his face, hoping to find your lover buried beneath that avalanche, "You're hurting me." You said.
A scoff came from Bi-Han as he attempted to work on you once again. "This can't hurt nearly as bad as your other injuries."
You wouldn't let him come back to you, however, pushing him back with the palm of your hand. "Well, it isn't exactly helping."
Bi-Han folded his arms over his chest. "Do you expect me to coddle you?"
"Some sympathy wouldn't hurt." You spat back.
In disbelief, Bi-Han came back to you, forcing himself into your view. "You want my sympathy for the consequences of your reckless actions? My assistance is enough comfort."
He readied the needle for the next stitch, but before he could jam another hole into you, you took the needle out of his hand.
You didn't look at him as you spoke. "I would rather help myself."
After staring at you for a moment, Bi-Han walked away with a grunt. However, even as he started to leave, your wincing continued. You tried to finish the stitching yourself, but the wound was in such a place that you couldn't reach it without straining the rest of your body. Not to mention aggravating the wound itself.
Bi-Han couldn't bear to watch and listen to you struggle. You were only hurting yourself more. Casting his face down for a moment, Bi-Han exhaled before returning to your side.
Before you could begin another stitch, you felt a cold hand stop the needle.
"The stitching will be ineffective this way."
That growl had left Bi-Han's voice, and his face softened, save the deep crease between his brows. Although his gaze would not meet yours, you gave the needle back to Bi-Han, feeling in the air that his anger had dissipated. As he went to work once again, he was much more gentle, and his work didn't hurt nearly as much. Still, he was very quiet. It was clear he wasn't angry with you anymore, but something still troubled him.
Once the stitch was finished, Bi-Han went to tend to your smaller injuries, remaining so quiet and drawn away from you. As he went to clean a cut on your cheek his eyes remained fixated on the wound, not once glancing towards you. Becoming concerned for him, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.
"Bi-Han," you began turning to face him, but his face turned away. "Will you look at me, sweetheart?"
He couldn't; he was ashamed to do so. Although he should have had better control over himself, Bi-Han lost his temper with you.
"I was worried," he said, his face finally falling. "Seeing you come home in this state concerned me. I'm sorry I let it contort into anger."
With a small smile, you took the side of Bi-Han's face in your hand, fixing it towards you. It melted him a bit to see your face. Even after how he had acted, you still smiled at him.
"I knew of your anger long before we got together," you said. "And while it can be frustrating, that doesn't mean I'm not willing to work through it as long as you are."
Bi-Han leaned into your touch, sighing as he let his eyes close. "Just promise you'll act more carefully on future missions."
Scorpion
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Kuai Liang tended to the large gash across the length of the back. The wound was deep and wide, he could hardly fathom how this had happened to you. However, his focus remained on bandaging you before it suffered any infection. Kuai Liang worked gently as he secured the bandages around you, but you dreaded turning back to him. Once you did, you turned away quickly from his gentle face, eager to get away from where his eyes gazed. Confused by this, he stopped you, taking a soft but firm hold of your arm.
"You should let me help with getting you ready for bed. I don't want you exhausting yourself, precious."
You huffed, but couldn't lose your temper with Kuai Liang's warm eyes gazing at you. Still, you snatched your arm back, turning your back to him again.
"I can manage, Kuai Liang." Your tone wasn't exactly angry but somber instead, bringing a confused expression to Kuai Liang's face.
He started to catch up to you again, "Your injuries are very serious, Y/N." He said as a word of caution.
As your jaw clenched, you quickly turned back to Kuai Liang, your tone more serious now. "And I said I can manage."
Suddenly, a sharp pain radiated through your shoulder, causing you to wince and grab at it. You turned too fast. Kuai Liang placed a hand on your shoulder, generating the softest heat to ease the pain.
"Beloved, what is wrong," He said with concern as he turned back in front of you. "It can't just be your injuries making you this upset."
With a soft sigh, you started to break your frustration, letting the sadness you truly felt manifest in your face, "Aren't you disappointed?" You looked up at him.
Kuai Liang's brows furrowed in confusion. Your expression was so sad and apologetic. How could you think he was disappointed?
"In you," he asked in disbelief. "Of course not, precious. Why would I be?"
Gesturing to yourself, you let out a shuddering breath, "Look at me," your voice began to break. "This is no state for a champion to be in after Kombat,"
Kuai Liang felt his heart break; he knew you always held yourself to a status that kept you worthy of the mantle that was Earthrealm's champion, but he hated to see you acting this harshly towards yourself.
As tears started forming in your eyes, you continued. "You and your brothers fight to bring honor to your clan's name; you persist no matter the challenge. How can I be a champion when I haven't done the same for Earthrealm?"
You faced the floor as tears streamed down your cheek, but Kuai Liang wouldn't let you shut yourself out from him again. Lifting your head with his index finger, Kuai Liang started wiping your tears as his hands cradled your face.
"Beloved," his voice was soft as he spoke to you. "You accepted your challenge and fought with all you had. Honor isn't about winning but fighting valiantly in the name of your clan. By engaging in Kombat for the glory of Earthrealm and its champions, you have brought honor. For that, I am proud of you as I always am."
As your tears slowed, Kuai Liang gazed into your eyes with a nod of understanding. Once you nodded back, he planted a kiss on top of your head.
Smoke
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Tomas hadn't left your side since you returned home last night, and though he tried his best to conceal it, you could feel how worried he was. All of your wounds were patched up, and you were starting to feel better, but he still insisted on doing every little thing for you. It was sweet; you knew how much he cared for his loved ones, especially you, but he did know you'd be okay, right?
By the time you had woken up, Tomas was in the shower, and you were starving. It wasn't going to strain you to cook breakfast, so that's what you went to do.
You had just begun cooking when Tomas came out of the shower. When he returned to your bedroom and found the bed to be empty, he froze in fear. Frantically, he hurried around the house, looking for you. It didn't take him long to reach the kitchen where you were cooking at the stove.
"What are you doing out of bed, my love?"
You turned to see Tomas' concerned face. Smiling, in hopes you would put him at ease, you gestured to the pan of bacon on the stove.
"Cooking," you answered him. "I'm hungry; I bet you are too."
With a small frown, Tomas sighed softly as he leaned against the island, "I could've handled this." He said.
As you turned back to the stove, you nodded. "Yes, but you were in the shower. Besides, I felt like cooking."
You could hear Tomas grumbling behind you as he came closer. Suddenly, he put his hand on top of yours, trying to take the pan from you.
"I'd much prefer it if you stayed in bed, my love."
Tightening your grip, you looked back at him. "I've been in bed since yesterday evening, let me cook us breakfast."
By this point, Tomas didn't know what to do other than pout disapprovingly, but you weren't going to have it.
"Tomas," you called him. "Look at me."
With a sigh, he listened, backing up to eye you before you explained your instruction.
"I'm doing better. It's not like I'm going to fall over at the stove."
He tried to interrupt, "You don't—" But you silenced him with a hand on the center of his chest.
You continued softly. "Go sit down and wait for your food."
The two of you shared a brief look before you closed your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. Once he did, you opened your eyes to Tomas walking to sit at the table.
Reptile
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You hissed as Syzoth finished a stitch on your shoulder.
"I know it hurts, but we're almost done." He tried to calm you.
Usually, you tried to fight him when he patched you up, but you came home in pretty rough shape. The only complaining you could manage was in the form of winces and grunts. Syzoth never really minded, though. If anything you reminded him of his younger siblings when they'd hurt themselves playing.
"There," He said, putting the needle down. "You'll be fine in a few days."
As Syzoth looked at you with a soft face, you couldn't help feeling a small sense of shame.
"I'm sorry." You apologized, playing with your hands in your lap.
Syzoth tilted his head at you. "For what?"
"I can be so stubborn when you're only trying to help."
An incredulous slithering laugh started to leave Syzoth at your words, confusing you a bit. Putting your hands in his, Syzoth looked into your eyes.
"Firefly, I have faced much worse than you upset about getting a few stitches. As long as you're okay, you can bicker and grunt at me all you like."
Syzoth kissed you on the forehead before leading you to the bed.
"I never did ask how your opponent ended up." He looked over at you.
With a proud smile, you answered him. "Let's just say if I was injured the same, would have done more than bicker at you."
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cordeliawhohung · 25 days
Text
ghoap x reader pet!au where simon keeps johnny as a pet, but can't keep up with his high sex drive and antics. in order to satiate him, simon decides to go looking for another pet to keep the silly pup entertained. sort of an introductory work bound to become a series of one shots like my mafia!au
cw: simon is a freak, non-con photography, a little dark content, nsfw, slight bdsm dynamics, owner/pet dynamics
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Simon wasn’t a photographer, not a good one anyway, but he wasn’t to blame. His large hands were better fit for shredding meat than creating art, but he figured all art was good when the muses were beautiful. 
He had been on the hunt for nearly three hours by that point, wandering throughout the city where the population was thickest. Armed with nothing but his phone, Simon captured photos of various specimens that meandered throughout the streets as they went about their lives. There were roughly twenty pictures he had saved in his gallery of unsuspecting women he figured would be Johnny’s type. Pretty blondes in flowery dresses, alluring doe eyes looking out at the streets; he stole photos of any soft and sweet thing that he figured Johnny would have fun sinking his teeth into. 
A black mask and dark clothes wasn’t the most unsuspecting thing for him to wear on such an outing, yet it was to his advantage at the same time. Several women had caught the slight glint of the camera lens on his phone as he stole eternal glimpses of them. Many of them had even opened their mouths to protest his intrusion, until they looked at him, anyway. Not many people had the bravery or fortitude needed to stand up to a creature as wild and brutish as him. Their mouths shut with such promptness he nearly chuckled at how bashful they were. 
Hunting got more difficult as the sky grew darker. Fresh meat hid behind locked doors that Simon could have easily torn down if he had so desired, but that wasn’t the time. As the lights started to illuminate the street, he dived down into the depths underneath London where tunnels spanned for miles, spider-webbing just below the skin of the city. The stench underground grew more acrid the further he pushed and Simon couldn’t help but huff at it. This was why he enjoyed living out of town, off in some secluded home nestled in the cold embrace of trees and lavish fields. 
Made it harder for his pet to wander off, too. 
The sharp clicking of heels caught his attention as he waited just beyond the yellow line on the platform. Dark eyes flickered to the newest prey that approached, and Simon found himself drinking in the sight of her. Proper clothes covered her body with a simple blouse and a pencil skirt. Dark tights covered the expanse of her legs with its sheer fabric where it was beautifully topped off by a classic pair of heels. The sway of her hips was dramatized by the steps she traversed, her pace slow and careful lest she roll an ankle walking in those heels. 
She was dressed professionally, and if Simon had to guess it was for an interview. By the look on her face, it didn’t go very well. Distracted eyes stared down at the phone in her hand as her lips pressed into a frown. Anxious fingers tapped away as she typed out a message to someone — perhaps a lover? Someone would be crazy not to snatch up a specimen such as that — as she stepped down onto the platform. 
Before she could get too close, Simon quickly dug his phone out before stealing a photo of her. He had gotten so used to the motions he didn’t even have to think about it; not that it was difficult anyway. With her attention still focused elsewhere, he found he was able to snap a few more before she finally put her phone into her bag and began to pay mind to where she walked. She continued further into the platform, well past Simon, and vanished into the crowd as if she had never been there at all. 
Cute. 
It didn’t take long for the tube to take Simon to his stop, and it was even shorter before he seated himself in his car to head back home. The drive itself was the longest part of everything. Annoying traffic, bad drivers; he didn’t feel like he could untense his body until he approached the familiar sight of home. The old and dilapidated building wasn’t much more than an heirloom passed down in the Riley family, but it had quickly become his sanctuary. Seclusion meant he was safe. Seclusion meant he could love in peace.
Warm lights poured through the sheer curtains that covered the windows and were only disturbed by a figure pacing around just beyond them. Simon’s car died off with a sputter as he pocketed his keys before approaching the door. A thick deadbolt kept the house latched tight and secure, though he was confident Johnny knew better than to attempt to dash out by that point. Especially not that day when he had the prospect of such a good treat. 
Johnny was there to greet him at the door with a toothy grin, and the damn pup nearly knocked Simon over as he bounded up to him. His hands pawed at Simon’s chest as if he couldn’t get enough of him, and he didn’t calm down until the man grabbed hold of the collar around his throat. Blue eyes widened as he looked up at his owner, lips twitching with all the words he wanted to exclaim.
“Down,” Simon warned. 
“Did ya get the pictures? Like you said you would?” Johnny questioned, his body still unable to retain his buzzing excitement. 
Instead of answering him verbally, Simon gave a sharp tug on his collar before directing him further into the house. Ancient wood floorboards creaked underneath their weight as they entered the living room. It was devoid of all decor, unless cracks in the paint could be considered art. A rusted lamp was the sole source of light in the room, and the only thing even worth looking at was the glorious stone fireplace that sat against the far wall, but it was much too warm out to light. 
Simon pulled Johnny down onto the old sofa next to him, and the man instantly burrowed into his side, eagerly waiting to see the pretty pups. The phone screen illuminated both of their faces in sync as it blossomed to life, and Johnny almost salivated at just the prospect of what he would see. It didn’t take Simon long to pull up his gallery, and he scrolled to the first photos he had taken that day before angling it so that his excited pup could see it too. Twitching fingers reached out to swipe along the screen, and Simon watched as Johnny’s eyes dilated at every piece of meat he looked at. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted on the couch, and all it took was a simple glance to see how worked up the poor pup was. A hardened bulge strained against the zipper of his jeans, and a groan reverberated in his throat as he continued to swipe through the countless choices put in front of him. 
“Si, they’re all so beautiful. Can’t I have them all?” Johnny whined. 
“Only one,” Simon countered. 
“I’ll be good,” Johnny said with a pout. 
“Just one, Johnny,” Simon repeated, voice more firm. 
Sighing, he continued to swipe through Simon’s phone as his eyes glossed over beautiful legs and delicious hips. It had been so long since he had last seen a woman it was nearly impossible to hold himself back. His body craved them in a way he couldn’t put into words, and he felt like the only thing that would offer him solace would be to burst out of his skin. 
His restless buzzing suddenly ceased when he caught sight of the last group of photos in the gallery. A beautiful woman had him utterly transfixed as she appeared to have descended down a long set of concrete steps. There was something about the troubled look on her face that had his mouth watering. Like he knew he would be able to fix it. Like he could bully the worry out of her with his cock alone. 
“This one,” Johnny said, his decision definite as he held the phone up for Simon to see. “I want this one.” 
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kaciidubs · 2 months
Text
Cameras and Sweatpants
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❣ Summary: Photoshoots, the gift that keeps on giving, and you welcomed it with open arms - and mouth. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.5k ❣ Warnings: Smut, degradation/name calling [slut], slight public sex ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: 230526 Chris [pictured], Chan is referred to as Chris and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty/Dirty Girl, Slut, mention of Jisung, lightly edited, this was written almost a year ago while I was sleep deprived and horny for this specific version of Chris ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“We have 30 minutes,” Chris whispered against the shell of your ear, his hand resting against the small of your back. 
You smirked, pace quickening ever so slightly as you walked past staff members and stylists alike - a glint of mischief shining through your lust fogged eyes. “I’ll be done in 15.”
Attending photoshoots with the boys was a rare occurrence, usually only happening when your oh-so-loving boyfriend figured a ‘little vacation’ was in order - and this was one of those times.
Even if you weren't well versed with Dispatch as a whole, you were more than aware of the speculation of idols’ private lives and, more present, promotional photoshoots and interviews.
Especially promotional photoshoots that had your boyfriend in the most relaxed yet revealing outfit you’d laid your eyes on; from the white, sleeveless shirt showing off well sculpted biceps that never failed to draw attention, to the baby blue sweatpants tied securely around his hips with holes that gave peeks into what you had the pleasure of seeing daily.
All of this, paired with the borderline bedroom eyes he was giving the camera, culminated into you tugging him off the couch the minute the director gave the call for a break to set up for the next room.
The second the changing room’s door shut and the lock clicked into place, you wasted no time in sinking to your knees in front of him - hardwood floors be damned. Your mouth watered at the prominent bulge beginning to tent the blue fabric; running your hand along the outline and earning a stifled grunt in return. 
“Baby, I’d rather not stain these pants,” Chris gritted out, trying to keep his anticipation at bay as you continued palming him, “we still have the second half to shoot.” 
You opened your mouth for a rebuttal, a tease of some sort, but the looming reminder of how much time you had made it close just as fast. 
Heeding his request, your hands slid up to the waistband of his sweats before tugging them past the swell of his ass and down the expanse of his thighs, just enough to expose his boxer-briefs.
“If we were home, this would be so much easier.” Your lips pulled into a playful pout, fingertips dipping past the branded waistband before pulling them down to meet the same fate as his sweats. “I wouldn’t have to worry about this many layers.”
He scoffed, leaning his back against the cool wooden door, “If you were patient you wouldn’t have this problem, now would you?” Cocking his head to the side, he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, “But you’re just so needy for my dick, aren’t you, baby?”
A fresh heat washed over you from his words and you had to physically fight back the whine bubbling in the back of your throat - if he was already talking like this, then you knew you weren't the only needy one here.
Spitting into your hand, you wrapped it around his length and gave a few experimental pumps, relishing in the sharp hiss of air he took above you with each pass of your fist, before leaning forward to lick a line from the base of his dick to the tip.
His lips parted with a breathless, “Fuck…”, his head falling back against the door with a low thud as he watched you with lidded eyes.
You looked up at him, the smallest hints of a smirk on your lips before parting them to take the head into your mouth, lapping languidly at the bitter-sweet precum leaking from the slit. A soft moan hummed from your throat as you sunk further, eagerly welcoming the familiar weight of him on your tongue.
 It was always an effort to take him down your throat, long as he was thick, but you continued pressing on - eyelids fluttering shut as you focused on breathing and fighting your gag reflex.
“S-Shit, baby,” Chris gasped, his hand resting on the top of your head, “can’t- ah, can’t go two hours without having your mouth stuffed, yeah?”
Your left hand gripped his thigh, either as a muted response or moral support when you finally, finally, pressed your nose against the finely trimmed patch of pubes that decorated his pelvis. Swallowing around him, earning a delicious whimper that made your pussy flutter, you tapped his thigh twice with a soft hum.
He tensed, his brain short circuiting while his heart skipped a beat so hard he felt it in his throat, “Really? Y-You don’t- fuck, you really want me to…?”
Another two taps against his thigh, and you looked up at him as best as you could from your knelt position, feeling spit start to overflow past the corners of your lips.
“Fuck- You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”
His hand shifted to the back of your head, locking you in place as he drew his hips back, a shiver running down his spine until half of his cock remained in your mouth before thrusting forward, sending himself down your throat once again.
You squeezed your eyes shut, one hand holding onto his half while the other balled into a fist on your thigh, helping you focus on keeping your gags at bay with practiced breaths.
Chris kept a few more slow, manageable thrusts before turning up the pace; his cock leaving your mouth a little more each time before sliding its way back into your throat, ragged pants tumbling from his lips as he fucked your mouth.
It was dizzying, the way your muscles constricted around his girth while your plump lips were slicked with bubbling saliva - it wasn’t anywhere close to how your cunt felt, but it was still bringing him to his end just the same. It also didn’t help that soft moans were interspersed between your muted gags; the thought of you getting off on him using your mouth like a fleshlight making his grip tighten and his balls swell.
“T-Taking me so well,” he gritted, breaking out into a small sweat, “so needy for me you can’t even suck me off by yourself - need me to help you, huh? Need me to- fuck- to use this throat of yours like the slut you are.”
Your nails dug into his calf and he chuckled, a short, husky sound that had your pussy clenching around nothing, your panties sticking like a self-imposed punishment.
“My little slut, yeah? All mine?” Sucking in a sharp breath, his hips stuttered, “A-All mine to use - daddy’s pretty, dirty girl.”
Blinking away the tears blurring your vision, you angled your head up just enough to gaze at him through your eyelashes, and the sight you were met with had you rocking your hips in the open air - desperation taking over your rational thoughts in hopes of an odd rotation to get something to grind against your aching cunt.
Pupils blown, the ends of his hair sticking to his forehead,the glow of sweat shining down the curve of his neck, pretty pink lips parted and shimmering from the gloss the makeup artists coated them in, and brows furrowed with a focus you’d seen time and time again - he looked delectable.
“S-Shit- I’m close, baby,” panting, Chris looked down at you with worry flashing in his eyes, “Wh- Mm- Where do you want it?”
Answering his question as best you could, you squeezed his calf once before pressing your tongue to the underside of his dick, running it against a vein that never failed to make his head spin.
The grip on your head tightened as he nodded frantically, “Y-Yeah, yeah, okay - t-take it all, princess, swallow every drop j-just f’me, yeah?” A shiver ran down his spine as his rhythm began to falter, breathless whimpers falling from his lips, “‘M coming- oh fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna come-”
His dick twitched, throbbing against your tongue, and with a handful of thrusts the tip pressed against the soft flesh of the back of your throat before a rush of cum filled your mouth.
Your throat tightened with each swallow you took, gag reflex working double time with the lack of air reaching your lungs until the last of his release settled onto your tongue.
As his hold on you relaxed, you slowly pulled yourself off of his length with a lewd slurp, taking whatever final remnants remained before swallowing - almost choking on the deep breath that immediately followed suit as your lungs gratefully welcomed the unhindered rush of air.
“I’m-” Chris huffed out a breath, fully leaning against the door to save him from falling to his knees, “I’m sorry, baby, are you okay? Did I go too hard?”
“Honestly?” Clearing the rasp from your voice, you laughed lightly, “If I passed out, it would’ve been worth it.”
“Oh my god, you absolute menace!”
Eyes narrowing with mirth, you smirked, “Menace? I thought I was daddy’s little slut?”
The blush tinting his ears and neck deepened, but before he could respond a series of knocks rapped against the door, followed by Jisung’s sheepish voice.
“Uh, if you guys are done in there, can I grab my phone?”
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beskarandblasters · 26 days
Text
Red Wine Supernova
No Outbreak!Abby Anderson x F!Reader
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Ways to help Palestine
Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist
Author’s note: Inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan!
Summary: You move to a new neighborhood where you run into Abby at the gym. You start seeing more and more of her until the both of you can’t take it anymore— you need to take it to the next level.
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied and wears a skirt, no outbreak AU, drinking, smoking weed, kissing, Abby’s a FLIRT, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), sex toys, edible lube, pet names (baby, pretty girl), no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
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A new neighborhood. A new beginning. You aren’t thrilled that your landlord decided to raise the rent but it meant you got to move to a new area, a much cooler area. For example, you’re walking distance to a gym. But now you also have roommates. Whatever. You’re not too old for roommates yet. 
And you had to swap your king-size bed for a twin mattress since your new room is much smaller. 
Whatever. It’s cool. 
You win some, you lose some. 
-
It’s been a week since you’ve settled into your new apartment. You’re walking to the gym, looking to sign up for a new membership. Maybe meet some people in the neighborhood. Fifteen bucks a month? Not bad. 
The worker hands you a little chip to keep on your keychain and you’re on your way. You put your stuff in the locker room and head back out to the machines, opting for a treadmill first. 
Your eyes wander between your phone and the TV’s on the wall. Until your eyes linger on something— someone else. 
Long hair in a braid. No bra. Your type.
She just finished bench pressing. And… she caught you staring. 
She smiles and gives you a small wave. You look away quickly, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 
After a beat, you look at her again. She’s walking to another machine. She’s hot. And not to mention so fucking buff?? She’s wearing a dark gray muscle tank. Her biceps are peppered with freckles, glistening in a fresh layer of sweat, and pumped up from her workout. 
Before you know it you’re tripping over your own feet, stumbling a little on the treadmill. Guess you were ogling her too hard. 
If she’s a regular fixture at the gym, you’ll be more motivated than ever to work out. 
-
It’s Friday night. You’re waiting in line to get into a club. Coincidentally it’s also just a few blocks away from your new apartment. It’s a little chilly, the nighttime breeze makes goosebumps prick your thighs. You’re wearing a miniskirt and go-go boots, glitter on your collarbones, ready to dance the night away. You’re here with one of your roommates, Sam, who agreed to come with you even though clubbing isn’t really her scene. 
When you get inside, you spot her again. The girl from the gym. She’s wearing a t-shirt this time and the sleeves look like they’re ready to pop from her muscles. Fuck. 
She’s on the dancefloor, laughing and having a good time. You notice the way her nose crinkles when she’s smiling. You hope she notices you. Or maybe you don’t. It’s hard to tell. Your stomach is swirling and your knees feel like jelly. But why? You haven’t even said a word to each other. 
Sam notices you staring and follows your line of sight, giggling to herself when she notices who you’re looking at. 
“You know her?”
“I’ve seen her around before but I couldn’t tell you her name.”
“What do you… What do you think of her?”
“She’s cute!” She scans the room and finds the bathroom across the way, turning and telling you, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Shoot your shot!”
And with that she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. You look back at her, your little crush, and notice she’s with a few friends– two men and two women. You hang back and make your way to the bar, ordering a vodka soda and trying not to be too obvious about watching her. 
You failed. Because she makes eye contact with you and smirks. One of her friends, a woman, whispers in her ear. And before you know it she’s coming over to you. Shit. Shit. Shit. 
“Hey!” she semi-shouts over the music. 
God, she’s so fucking hot. This is the first time you’re seeing her up close. There are more freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. Her hair is in the same braid as before and you’re wondering if that’s her signature look. 
“Hi!” you semi-shout back. 
“I’m Abby!”
You tell her your name and she says, “Nice to meet you! Are you new to the gym?”
“Yeah! I just moved to the neighborhood!”
“Sounds like you need some friends in the area. Let me introduce you to mine!”
“Okay!”
You down your drink and set it on the bar. She grabs your hand and leads you to her friends on the dance floor. You learn their names are Manny, Owen, Mel, and Nora. They’re all really nice. Owen and Mel seem to be in a relationship. The six of you spend the rest of the night dancing. But you can’t seem to get over the fact that Abby grabbed your hand. 
Sam comes back out from the bathroom and Abby introduces her to the group. You spend the rest of the night dancing and drinking until you close out the club. You stumble out onto the sidewalk and bid goodbye to Abby and her friends. She pulls you in for a hug and butterflies flutter in your stomach. 
Is this real life??
“Catch you at the gym!” she says before letting go and waving goodbye, leaving with her friends down the street.
“You guys are cute together,” Sam says. 
“You think so??”
“So cute I think I’m gonna throw up,” she laughs, starting the walk home. 
“That’s from the drinks!” you shoot back, stumbling home drunk and giddy. 
-
Ever since that fateful night at the club you start running into Abby more and more. The place you see her most often is the gym. But you also see her on the street, at the grocery store, and even at a gas station one time. Each time you guys cross paths you make small talk, talking about the weather, what TV shows you’re watching, what movies are out– the minor stuff. But you’re dying for a chance to get to know her. 
You’d get your wish soon enough.
-
It’s another typical day at the gym. You’re running on the treadmill. Abby’s lifting weights. She hasn’t noticed you yet but you’re too shy to say hi first. 
Eventually, she spots you in the giant mirror lining the perimeter of the gym and swiftly comes over to you. You take your earbuds out and set them by your phone on the treadmill. 
“Wanna come to my place tomorrow night?” she asks, cutting right to the chase. She leans against the treadmill, smiling at you. 
You slow your pace to a walk and say, “Sure!” startled by her forwardness but welcoming it all the same. 
She grabs your phone off the treadmill and opens your contacts app, typing in her phone number and address. Your cheeks heat up at the bold move. 
“Is seven okay?” 
“Fine with me,” you choke out. 
“Okay,” she says, placing your phone back on the treadmill. She throws her hand towel back over her shoulder and says, “See you tomorrow!”
But before she walks away she pants a swift slap on your ass. 
You yelp in surprise followed by a giggle. You swivel your head to follow where she’s walking– to the locker room. And she’s laughing to herself. God, you’re done for. Head over heels and you haven’t even spent any time alone together yet. 
-
Tomorrow night rolls around and you opt for a skirt again. You look over your appearance one more time in the mirror before setting off into the night, punching her address into your phone. She’s only a fifteen-minute walk from your apartment. 
As you walk there the apartment buildings shift into houses and you realize that she most likely lives in a house. Impressive. 
She’s waiting on her front desk for you. She waves and calls your name, a lighter in her hand. 
“Hey! How are you?”
“I’m good! How are you?” God, you’re so fucking nervous.
“A lot better now. I rolled us a joint. Do you smoke?”
“I did a little bit in college.”
She hands you the joint and you put it to her lips, leaning in for her to light it. You inhale, turning your head away so you don’t blow the smoke in her face. But you start coughing and feel a little embarrassed. 
She chuckles a bit and takes the joint from you, telling you, “Take it easy! Especially if it’s been a while.”
She gestures to the bench behind you and you take a seat. She sits beside you, the outside of your thigh touching hers. She takes a hit, exhaling the smoke effortlessly, without coughing. Your palms grow sweaty and your mouth grows dry. She hands the joint back to you and you take a much smaller hit this time. You already feel yourself loosening up and getting more silly. And soon enough, you’re laughing with each other. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s wearing a smirk. She turns towards you and asks, “What made you move to the neighborhood?”
“Rent went up at my old place,” you say, handing the joint back to her. 
“That’s too bad. But at least it brought you here.”
“Yeah,” you say, looking around at her large deck and the front of her house, “How’d you score a place like this?”
“My dad left it to me when he passed.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be!” she takes inhaling. She exhales the smoke and continues, “It happened a while ago.”
“Tell me about yourself. What do you like? Got any hobbies?” you ask, trying to change the subject.
“I like going to the gym,” she shrugs, “But you know that already.”
“Mhm,” you say taking your turn to smoke now. 
“I collect coins.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… Is that surprising?”
“A little. But it’s cute,” you reassure her. 
“I like magic,” she snickers.
“Hang on,” you say, stifling a laugh, “Like doing magic?”
“No! Like watching it.”
She laughs, taking the joint back from you and bringing it to her lips now. You’re really feeling it now and you know that if you stood up you’d be stumbling a bit. 
“I can tell you about magic,” you say, leaning in as she taps off the joint in the ashtray on the table beside the bench. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm, I’ve got a wand and a rabbit.”
“You what??” she laughs again. 
“You know like… like the toys,” you say, realizing your joke didn’t quite land.
She laughs even harder now, head thrown back and her nose doing the cute scrunchy thing again. 
“So it was funny?”
“It was funny,” she affirms, handing the joint back to you. You finish it off and toss it in the ashtray, leaning against the bench and feeling giddy.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks. 
“Shoot.”
“I want to fuck you.”
“You do??” you say excitedly, inching closer towards her. 
“I do,” she says, looking into your eyes. Her eyes are red, pupils blown wide. You can only imagine how you look right now, “But maybe when you’re not blasted.”
“That’s fair,” you say. 
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kiss you right now,” she says, leaning forward and closing the almost nonexistent gap between you two. She kisses you, soft and intimate. Her lips are plush. She smells like a mixture of whatever perfume she’s wearing and weed. God, this can’t get any more perfect. She reaches a hand up your face, caressing your cheek. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you’re in disbelief this is even happening right now. 
Her tongue brushes against your lips so you part them to let get gain access. Her tongue explores your mouth and pretty soon you’re moaning into her mouth, complete putty in her hands. She tears away from your mouth, kissing down your jawline and onto your neck. 
“You could come over to my place tomorrow night,” you say. 
“Mhm,” she says against your skin.
“I’ve got a California King, you know,”
“Mmm, I bet,” she chuckles.
“Okay, maybe it’s a twin bed… And I have roommates.”
“Baby, I don’t care,” she says, just before sinking her teeth into your neck. 
That elicits a deep moan from you, louder than you were expecting. She keeps going, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin before licking the mark she just made. You place your hand on the back of her neck and the other holds onto her braid. That does something for her because she moans into your neck, holding you tighter. 
She pulls away and says, “Let’s not get carried away for tonight.”
You sigh and agree, leaning against her shoulder. 
“I’m glad we met,” you whisper.
“Me, too,” you whisper back.
-
Once you’ve both sobered up a little bit she walks you home, your hands brushing against each other’s as you walk. She waves goodbye, watching to make sure you get inside safely before leaving. You stumble up the stairs, still feeling a little high and giddy from the evening’s activities. 
Once you’re in your room she texts you and says, “Same time tomorrow?”
You reply, “Sounds good!” before throwing your phone on the charger and flopping onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with a wide smile until you eventually drift off to sleep. 
-
It’s the next day and when you eat breakfast at the kitchen table this morning you learn that both of your roommates will be out tonight. Perfect. 
Sam’s going out with her boyfriend and Bri’s working a double. If all goes right, you’ll get to be as loud as you want… on your twin-sized mattress, of course. 
You spend the day cleaning your apartment and showering, getting nervous the closer it gets to seven. She texts you when she’s on her way and now it’s game time– the moment you’ve been pining for for what feels like forever. 
You wait downstairs for her and her face lights up into a big smile when she finally sees you. She’s wearing her classic dark gray muscle tank and jeans, hair pulled back into her signature braid. She greets you with a hand on your waist and a kiss on your lips. 
“You ready?” she murmurs against your mouth. 
“Born ready,” you respond, kissing her again. 
You lead her up to your apartment and into your bedroom. She takes a look around your room before her eyes land on your bed. 
“This is the famous California King, huh?” she chuckles while picking up a bra you forgot to put away. She tosses it on your chair and turns back towards you. 
“Listen… I used to have one.”
“That’s a shame,” she faux sighs, “But I’ll make you scream regardless of what size bed you have.”
“Oh,” you say, cheeks heating up.
“What are you waiting for? Strip for me, baby.”
You nod eagerly and take off your t-shirt and bra, kicking off your sweatpants. 
“Now where’s this wand and rabbit?” she chuckles.
You walk over to your nightstand and open the drawer, taking out your bag of sex toys and lube. She sits at the foot of your bed, rifling through the bag while you lay down, body shivering with anticipation. 
“Ready for me, baby?” she says, holding the rabbit and a bottle of edible lube in her hand. 
“Mhm.”
She squirts a dollop of lube in her hand and spreads it on your pussy. It’s cold and makes another shiver run down your spine. She turns the toy on and slowly inserts it inside you. A moan hitches in your throat. She kneels in between your thighs, hand still on the toy, and lowering her face above yours. 
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”
“Yes,” you breathe, already wanting more. She has the toy in the lowest setting. 
“You want more, don’t you?”
“...Yes,” you admit.
“Ask like a good girl.”
“Please Abby… I need a higher setting.”
She grants you wishes, turning up the setting on the toy. Vibrations run through your core and against your clit. You’re in a state of bliss, eyes fluttering shut. But Abby grabs your chin and says, “Eyes on me, pretty girl.”
You maintain eye contact with her, mouth falling open into a soft O. 
“How do you feel?” she asks.
“So fucking good.”
“Are you close?”
“...Almost.”
She turns up the toy to another two settings. And you’re getting closer to the edge now. You’re excited to cum but you also want her to make you cum, whether it’s from her mouth or her fingers– whatever she pleases. 
“Cum for me, baby,” she coos, head cocking to the side. 
You cum hard, walls clenching the toy and your whole body spasming. It’s intense and she keeps the toy flush inside you as you cum. Your moans are loud and incessant. And now you’re especially thankful your roommates are gone for the night. 
“Good girl,” she praises, turning off the toy and bending down to kiss you. 
“That was amazing,” you breathe out.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Well, you’re far from done.”
Your cheeks heat up and your body shudders. She pulls the toy from you and lowers herself so her face is in between your thighs. She licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt, tasting the mess you just made. She’s gentle at first. She knows you just came. But it doesn’t take long for her to lick her fingers and insert one inside you. 
“So wet for me, baby,” she says, curling her finger slowly against your g-spot.
“Mmm because you take such good for me,” you sigh.
“That’s right,” she says, latching her mouth to your clit. She expertly swirls her tongue around your clit and inserts another finger inside you. You’re sent into a state of euphoric bliss, body tingling with waves of pleasure. 
She moans into your cunt, eyes closed with her lashes fanned out against her face. She’s well on her way to taking your second orgasm from you. Your cunt tenses up in anticipation of release, pulsing around her fingers. She opens her eyes and looks up at you. Your chest rises and falls as you pant. Your hands grip the sheets for purchase. This one feels different but better, all thanks to her. 
“Abby, I’m gonna-” you start but you cut yourself off with a moan. You writhe on the bed, back arching and stars swirling in your vision. Abby wraps her free arm around one of your thighs, keeping you in place. 
You cum for a second time, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. She continues to suck your clit and finger you through your release. Your moans and whimpers are loud, no shame in hiding them. And now you’re starting to feel spent. But even still she’s not done with you. 
She pulls her fingers from you when she’s done, placing them in her mouth and sucking off your wetness. But soon enough her face is back and buried in your cunt. 
She stays there, lazily lapping up your release and pulling a few smaller orgasms out of you here and there. You lose count of how many times you cum tonight but you’re not complaining. 
Eventually, when she’s decided you’re spent she lies beside you, resting on her side and looking into your eyes. 
“You did such a good job for me, coming that many times.” 
You go to respond but instead, you yawn. She sits up and takes off her clothes, lying beside you again and pulling you into her. 
“What about you?” you ask sleepily. 
“You had a big night,” she says, “Besides we can always do more in the morning.”
“Okay,” you respond, snuggling into her, “Goodnight, Abby.”
“Goodnight, baby.” 
501 notes · View notes
writingoddess1125 · 7 months
Note
how would the old men of the sea react to y/n asking them to join them in the bath tub?
I gotcha Sweety Pop! 🍭
Buy me a Ko-Fi ☕️
Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy x ReaderGN
🫧 Join Me? 🫧
Spicy Themes! + Fluff
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Buggy
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You lay in the large copper bath with a happy sigh, the sweet smell of lavender bubble bath filling the room as you relaxed heavily. You didn't get much time like this to yourself especially on Buggy's ship. Being the main one to keep the place at some semblance or order.
You sigh and lean back to close your eyes and drifr off. Before you hear your door being roughly busted into-
"(Y/N)! Did you approve for them to paint the sky background light blue for the stage peice I wa- wa.. You're uh-" Buggy stopped at his rant as he saw you in the bubble bath, Calmly blinking up at him as he stopped mid rant.
"Captian? Are you okay?" You calmly ask, seeing how red his face was under his grease paint. He turned away quickly.
"I didn't know you were in the bath! I-I was just coming in for-" you wave off his yelling almost-apology. Knowing this was just what he did when flustered, Sitting up more you smirked at your Captian deciding to tease more.
"Wanna join me?~"
You offer, his eyes locking on you quickly like you had just grown a second head. Nodding rapidly and without even saying anything he was already stripping down to nothing like the clothes were the enemy and flinging them away even using the Chop Chop abilities to strip faster.
You laugh as the man almost swan diving into the water and getting real close with a crooked grin, the makeup already melting off his handsome face and eyes shimmering in mischief. He will defiently not keep this innocent for long-
Shanks
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You and your crew had taken a stop on a empty island while sailing for the grand line. Choosing to party here and enjoy a few days of laying low before setting sail in a few days.
You would be taking a midnight dip in a nearby stream- enjoying the nice cool water on your skin as you take the time to wash up.
You heard the sound of rustling from the brush next to the stream and look up quickly- seeing your Captian, Red Haired Shanks stumble through the brush, his cheeks red from the booze as he looked around confused- blushing at the sight of you in the water.
"Ah sorry Sweety didn't mean to stumble on ya!" Shanks said with a chuckle, looking away shyly at catching you in this state.
You giggle at this and sink into the water yo cover yourself, the alcohol still flowing in your own system.
"It's alright Cap just enjoying the water. Well why don't you join me? Its cool in here" You offer, feeling way more bold then normal-
Not catching the giddy smile from Shanks as he sets down the rum bottle and starts to disrobe. Jumping in right after you with a smile as he swims to catch up to you.
"Don't mind if I do (Y/N)!-" He will chime and defienly take the chance to swim close to you. Alcohol defiently playing a part in whatever happened that night.
Mihawk
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You where in the main bathhouse of Mihawk's Palace in Kuraigana Island. It was a massive room filled with amazing mineral water- it was quite heavenly in truth.
You floated in the water for a bit, fully frontal on the top of the water in pure relation. Which was cut short when the door opened... Your eyes widened and looked up quickly from your floating full frontal to see Mihawk holding a towel and fresh clothes with wide eyes seeing you like this.
He stared at you in shock at seeing you like this, slowly he started to close the door. As you sank into the water to cover yourself-
"W-Wait! Mihawk do you want to maybe join me?" You stutter out shyly as you stare at him. Blushing at your own boldness for asking such a thing- He paused his own movements, before slowly nodding and stepping into the bathhouse fully. You turned away to be respectful at this so he could undress in peace- however you did see his reflection from the polished walls you were looking at and blushed at what you saw.
Gwad Damn!!
Hearing him get into the water you didn't dare to glance back till you felt something warm appear behind you- Glancing up to see Mihawk standing right before you, His eyes practically glowing as he stood with his chest pressed against you a twinkle of mischief in his eye.
"Embarrassed Darling?"
You will leave that bathtub dirtier then when you arrived.
1K notes · View notes
jgracie · 22 days
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⚡️ DATING JASON GRACE
masterlist | rules
percy’s version | leo’s version | frank’s version | travis’ version | luke’s version
in which in a world of boys, he's a gentleman
pairing jason grace x fem!reader
warnings reader is implied to not be a child of the big three + a greek
When Taylor Swift said, “in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman,” she was talking about Jason. That whole song is just about Jason
This man is so respectful and considerate and just really wonderful. He feels too good to be true! Which is why you don’t let yourself fall for him at first. He’s literally the most perfect guy you’ve ever met 
Meanwhile, Jason’s thinking the same about you. To him, you’re a breath of fresh air from all the rigidness and strict lines he’s been forced into not only as a Roman but as a son of Jupiter. Why would you want to be stuck with someone as boring as him?
So you just spent your days longingly gazing at each other when the other wasn’t looking while also avoiding each other in public spaces because both of you were slightly intimidated by the other’s gorgeous presence 
Your first proper interaction must’ve been orchestrated by Hera and Aphrodite themselves considering how adamant you two were on being 6ft apart at all times, and surprisingly, it was in the mortal world
You were spending the day at your favourite library because you missed it and liked to pretend your life was normal by blending in with mortals, and also because you had studying you needed to do since quests left ample time for schoolwork
Jason was there because he’d been cooped up at camp for as long as he could remember and wanted to see what life away from the Gods and their schemes was like, and what better place to figure that out than a library?
You breathed a sigh of relief as you finally finished the essay you’d been working on since you arrived at the library. It had been weighing on your mind for days but you couldn’t find time for it until today. As a reward for your hard work, you decided to get yourself a sweet treat (me too girl) before continuing your studies
Haphazardly packing up your stuff, you quickly got up, practically drooling at the thought of the new menu item you were finally going to get after craving for weeks
You were a little too excited. As you turned, you bumped into someone, dropping some of your papers
“Gods, I’m so sorry,” the person you bumped into said, quickly bending down to gather all your stuff
You knew that voice. You could recognise it anywhere
“Jason? What’re you doing here?” You said, suddenly feeling awfully hot for no particular reason
That was the day you really befriended Jason Grace. He decided to accompany you to the cafe you planned to go to, paid for your order and spent the rest of the day there with you. Away from all the craziness of demigod life, you and Jason finally got to truly know each other
After a while of getting closer, you two begin to date, and it might just be the most beautiful relationship known to man. The way Jason acted before you began dating was nothing compared to now. That was just the bare minimum
You literally never have to lift a finger around him as he insists on doing everything for you. He opens doors for you, pulls your chairs out and takes your coats off for you. If you’re on a quest and you need to sleep, he makes sure you always get the comfier place and takes first watch
He also always leaves you notes. Sometimes they’re notes of motivation, sometimes they’re small poems about how much he loves you and sometimes they’re just really random
Jason is a big fan of taking polaroid pictures with you. After Hera stripped him of his whole life, he’s always had a fear of waking up one day with the same feeling he had on that wilderness school bus, so he takes pictures with all the people he loves and keeps journals and has a box full of all the things that are important to him in case it happens
He keeps one in his wallet at all times to ensure his immediate remembrance of you if his memories get taken again
(As if he’d forget you in the first place. Hera would have to pry the memories of you out of his cold, dead hands)
Your siblings love him so much too! They were a little stressed at first because he’s a child of Zeus, the God notorious for breaking the hearts of his lovers and cheating on his eternal wife, but he showed up at your cabin door to pick you up for a date with a bouquet of flowers for the cabin and then walked you back himself, staying outside until the very second the door was shut and now they love him LOL
Sometimes you think they love him more than you because they’re always asking about him
You spend a lot of time at his cabin. He disguises it as just really wanting to spend time with you and while that is true, secretly it's also because the Zeus cabin gets super cold and lonely and is also kind of scary at night, even though he sleeps in the one space away from the gaze of his father
“Honey,” Jason says, wrapping an arm around your waist. The campfire sing along had ended which signified the end of the day, and all around you, campers were wishing their friends goodnight as they headed to their cabins. You suppressed a giggle, knowing exactly what Jason wanted from the tone of his voice
You hummed, giving your boyfriend a bleary-eyed smile as you waited for him to voice his request. It was cute how even though you’d done this many times before, he still got shy at the idea of you two sleeping in the same room, on the same bed
“Would you maybe wanna spend the night at my cabin? I missed you today, and I can’t even begin to imagine how hot it must be in your cabin, with all your siblings in it, y’know.”
“Are you asking because you missed me or because you’re scared of daddy dearest?” You quipped, unable to contain yourself as his face turned bright red
“I’m kidding, Jase, of course I’ll spend the night with you!”
Later on in your relationship, when he’s sure you’re the one for life, he shows you around New Rome. He grew up with a peaceful life in the city being the goal, so it only made sense for him to show you around
Loves the way you light up at everything around you. He’d known New Rome for his whole life and could draw a map of it blind, but you make it feel brand new
Is ecstatic when you tell him you also want to start a life with him in New Rome. The moment you utter those words he’s already signed papers for an apartment and is drawing punnett squares to figure out what your kids would look like (I hate punnett squares they are the bane of my existence)
You know the part in The Notebook where the girl’s describing the house she wants? That’s what Jason showing u around New Rome reminds you of
Years later, you reminisce on the way you’d avoid each other as you tell your kids about your lives as teens in your lovely house in New Rome because he definitely did not die <3
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buckyalpine · 9 months
Text
Barbie
Single dad Bucky x reader
Had this idea that I thought would be cuteeeee; Bucky's little baby seeing a real life Barbie doll for the first time.
Bucky's POV "Daddy lets go!!" Bella's tiny hand tugged on Bucky's much larger one, urging him towards the door, determination written all over her little face, "It'll start soon!"
"Alright peanut, I promise we won't be late" he chuckled, letting his daughter pull him with all her might, not wanting to miss a second of the new Barbie movie. He raised a brow at the strength his four year old had when she got excited. It was all Bella talked about since the first movie trailer came out and ever since, the house was filled with every shade of pink imaginable. Bella had marked the date on the fridge, counting down the days though Bucky decided to wait a few weeks before taking her so the crowd wouldn't be too much for her, wanting her to actually enjoy the movie.
"Ready peanut?" Bucky scooped her up in his arms, carrying her over to the car, adjusting the frilly pink tutu she had on so he could buckle her in the car seat. She had been previously unamused at his lack of outfits that would match Ken but ultimately settled on something much, much better.
"Ready daddy" She nodded, straightening out the matching tiara she had placed in on his head, hardly able to contain her little squeals of excitement, double checking the pink heart magnets she'd stuck on his arm. Bucky pecked her chubby cheek before getting into the drivers seat and pulling out the car, just as excited himself to have a relaxing day with his babygirl.
Your POV
You huffed, smoothing out the front of your dress, hyping yourself up in front of the mirror before slipping on your heels, taking them off and putting them back on again.
Then slipping one off before strapping it back on firmly in place.
There was no reason for you to be nervous.
You looked amazing. There was no doubt there. That shade of pink was radiant against your skin. Not a hair out of place. Your makeup was perfect. Yet your heart wouldn't stop breathing just a smidge too fast. You deserved this. After a long, exhausting week you deserved a day to yourself to just feel good and relaxed. Yet your nerves were lit ablaze while you double checked your lipstick.
You were a grown ass woman, you didn't need to explain yourself to anyone as to why you were seeing this movie alone.
Dressed up in your cutest matching pink outfit.
You could do whatever you wanted...Is what you whispered to yourself before grabbing your purse and making a beeline towards to door before you changed your mind again. You pulled into the parking lot, glad your decided to wait a while to see this movie instead of going on opening night, noting it was a much quieter night, easing some of your nerves.
You went over to the snack counter, browsing the wide selection of candy, grabbing both sour candy and chocolate before joining the line to have your ticket scanned. You glanced down at your outfit once again, smoothing your a hand over your hair before straightening your shoulders.
You deserved this.
Bucky's POV
Bucky's heart swelled at the little clicks his daughters dress up heels made as they made their way up to the snack counter hand in hand; she was a ball of pink and frills with a tiny purse to finish the look off. She stumbled slightly, keeping up with his long strides, eyes wide taking in her surroundings along with the smell of fresh popcorn.
"What do you feel like getting jellybean" Bucky picked her up, letting her scan the rack of candy while he ordered a large popcorn and soda.
"This please daddy?" She pointed to a large swirly rainbow lollypop, waiting patiently when he set her back down making their way towards the ticket line. Her hand was still firmly holding onto his, a gasp slipping past her lips when her eyes landed on the best thing imaginable. Bucky looked up towards the direction his daughter was staring in, curious about the tiny gasp she let out and what had suddenly caught her attention.
The prettiest doll she'd ever seen. But in real life.
She couldn't take her eyes off her pretty pink dress or her matching heels. She was sure her favorite Barbie doll at home had the same shade of lipstick as hers. She clung onto Bucky's leg as they made their way over, tugging at his jeans to get his attention.
"Daddy! It's a Barbie doll" She whispered as he crouched down to her level, "She's so pretty" He could tell by her antsy squirming she wanted to talk to the real life Barbie boll, itching to take off at any moment. Bucky blinked, feeling his heart flutter, brows furrowing at why it was doing that, stop that.
But Bella was right.
She was pretty.
As soon as he saw who his daughter was pointing to, his own mind momentarily stopped working, only noticing her take off when he saw a blur of pink dash away, making a bee line towards the young woman.
Shit.
Your POV
"Hi" A small voice chirped behind you, leaving you confused when you didn't see anyone near by. Until you looked down. You smiled seeing the little girl behind you dressed in all pink, the tiara on her head slightly crooked, a lollypop sticking out of her purse. "You look so pretty"
"Thank you sweetheart" You cooed, gasping when a handsome stranger, clearly her father, grabbed her into his arms, shaking his head. He had a sparkly gold tiara on his head matching hers, flecks of pink glitter dusting his cheeks, some sprinkled onto his fluffy chestnut locks. You couldn't help the smile that spread onto your face when your eyes landed on the many magnets that were stuck onto his arm ranging from pink hearts to rainbows and the Barbie logo.
"Bella" He scooped her up, blowing a raspberry onto her cheek making her giggle, "You can't run off like that babygirl"
"Sorry daddy, wanted to see Barbie" She gave him her best pout, making you laugh, your own cheeks heating up when he looked over at you with a shy smile, matching hers.
Fuck, he was beautiful.
A whole ass DILF.
You shook your head, figuring he probably had a wife or girlfriend, there was no way he was single.
Bucky's POV
"She's really exited" Bucky said apologetically while you both had your tickets scanned, walking towards the same theatre room, butterflies fluttering in his tummy again.
"It's okay, this little princess made my day" You tried to sound light hearted though you were nervous meeting his soft baby blue eyes.
"Can she sit with us?" Bella pipped up before anyone sat own, giving her dad another dose of puppy eyes and a pout before turning to you and giving you the same treatment.
"Oh-uh-" Bucky figured you would've come with friends (maybe even a boyfriend...hopefully not...), though he didn't see anyone around when you were in line earlier. Either way, he was sure you wouldn't want to spend your movie day with a single dad and his very cute, albeit excited little girl. "I don't know baby-
"Actually, it's just me, I-don't mind" you smiled at the way Bella's eyes lit up along with an excited squeak, wiggling out of Bucky's hold to slip her hand into yours, pulling you to the middle of the row.
"Thank you" Bucky gave you a grateful smile, a tiny greedy part of him happy to sit with the sweet stranger his daughter was enamored with.
****
You adored watching the movie with Bella, leaning down whenever she'd whisper something, her hand often holding onto your pinky through most of the movie. You both made your way out of the theatre once the end credits began to roll, feeling a pang of something again when you noticed your cars happened to be parked side by side.
What were the chances-
Stop.
He probably has a partner, you scolded yourself internally while Bella gave you a sleepy hug before Bucky settled her into her car seat and shutting the door softly.
"Hi again" Bucky smiled bashfully, hoping the pink on his cheeks wasn't too obvious as he leaned against his car door, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Why would someone as pretty and kind hearted as you want to go on a date with someone who came with baggage.....but maybe...
"Hi again" You nearly stumbled over your words, your heart hammering while he fidgeted with his phone, chewing his lip before speaking.
"I wanted to say thank you again. For today. I-I hope this isn't too forward but-uh-to say thank you properly-maybe coffee? If you don't like coffee then something else-dinner? Maybe a date-unless you don't want it to be a date-"
"I'd love to" you cut off his nervous rambling while Bucky let out the breath he was holding, giving you his phone for you to add your number in. He waited for you to get into your car, waving as you pulled out before getting into his own car, surprised to find Bella now wide awake with a cheeky smile on her face.
"Will we see Barbie again?" Bella eyed Bucky curiously while Bucky's phone pinged with a text message from you.
Can't wait to see you, keep the tiara on x
Bucky grinned, reaching behind to playfully tickle her foot before smiling at his phone again.
"I think we will"
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x-i-l-verify · 3 months
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Being honest, I think using Miss Delight and Ollie in this chapter instead of the Critters was a mistake. Dogday would have been a great candidate for the role Ollie filled. It would explain why he already knows us when we find him in the dungeon, why he calls us "Poppy's Angel," why he already seems to know what she's planning. It would also just be thematically appropriate, because of course he knows Playcare like the back of his hand, of course he would be the one to bring back the power, the light, in order to chase away Catnap's darkness. It would make the fact that we couldn't save him at the end of the Playhouse section that much more of a gut-punch, because he would have already saved us multiple times at that point and he would have felt like a friend.
As for the other Smiling Critters, a couple of them could already be dead, sure, but others could have been lurking in various buildings and locations within the Playcare. Bobby Bearhug and Picky Piggy could have been who we run into in Home Sweet Home, with Bobby languishing in the bedrooms that held the children she once loved so dearly, while Picky, who has gone insane from hunger, haunts the kitchens, desperately prowling for fresh meat. We could convince Bobby to help us, while evading Picky, lending a sense of true danger and urgency to the level that was lacking in the original, since we are never in any actual danger inside Home Sweet Home in that version outside of running into the red smoke without our gas mask.
Craftycorn and Bubba Bubbaphant could be who we run into in the school, or Bubba could possibly be found in the caverns or in one of the power rooms, giving us a key piece of equipment that we would need to progress or helping us with solving puzzles. Craftycorn could take the place of Miss Delight, with the same mechanics and everything, but instead of being insane with hunger like Miss Delight, she could be desperately seeking out new art supplies, since she has long since run out. Fresh blood makes great paint.
The antagonists in the Playhouse could still be the mini Critters, or it could possibly be Kickin' Chicken or Hoppy Hopscotch, who are trying to get your grabpack and take it for their own in order to escape. Whichever character isn't trying to steal your grabpack would be helping you play keep-away with it. Alternatively, Kickin Chicken and Bubba could already be dead (since their voice lines end in screaming in their cutouts), and Hoppy could be trying to help us get the power back on after Dogday's death (since her symbol is a lightning bolt). When Catnap finally makes his appearance, she could sacrifice herself to distract him, giving us key time to get away and set up our defenses with the batteries.
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the-offside-rule · 2 months
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Jenson Button (McLaren Era) - Formal
Requested: yes
Prompt: reader using Jensons name instead of his pet name
Warnings: none tbh
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Jenson's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he navigated the familiar roads home from the McLaren Technology Centre. The hum of the engine was drowned out by the cheerful voice of his girlfriend, Y/n, on the other end of the line. "Heya, love." She said, her tone a touch too sweet for the usual end-of-day call. "Could you do me a favor?" Jenson smiled, glancing at the clock. "Of course, darling. What's up?" He asked, beginning to drive down the long road down the MTC. "Well, I was thinking... can you swing by McDonald's and grab me some chips, maybe a burger and a chocolate shake? I'm craving it." She requested, her voice holding a peculiar edge.
"Yeah okay, darling. Burger, chips and a chocolate shake, got it." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. Y/n rarely asked for such specific fast food orders. "Oh, and Jenson-" She continued, emphasizing his full name instead of the usual pet names she used. "Make sure it's fresh, okay?" A small frown creased Jenson's forehead. "Not if you keep calling me that." Jenson replied. "What do you mean? I called you Jenson." Y/n said, kind of confused. "Why the sudden formality? You never call me Jenson unless something's up." Y/n giggled amusingly. "Nothing's up, love, I promise. I just thought it would be nice for a change."
"Well don't, please and thank you. I quite like you calling me my pet name." Jenson's skepticism lingered as he pulled into the McDonald's drive-thru. "Jenson, your parents gave you that name." He rolled the window down. "Yes, my parents. You, darling, are my girlfriend. I like when you call me love and if you don't I'm afraid I'll have to block you." He ordered the requested items, making a mental note to ensure they were as hot as possible by the time he got home. As he drove away with the bag of fast food, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Y/n's request.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jenson's heart raced as he hurriedly navigated through the evening traffic, eager to reach home and see what he'd done done annoy his girlfriend this time. The anticipation of seeing her after a long day fueled his desire to press on the accelerator just a bit more. Blue and red lights flashed behind him, causing Jenson to let out an exasperated sigh. Pulling over and groaning, he rolled down his window to meet the stern gaze of a police officer. "Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" The officer asked upon reaching the car. Jenson offered a sheepish smile. "I might have been going a tad over the limit, officer. Apologies, I'm just trying to get home."
The officer raised an eyebrow. "Home, huh? And where might that be?" He asked. "Right down the road." Jenson replied, gesturing vaguely ahead. "I've been away for a while, you see. Just eager to get back." The officer eyed Jenson skeptically. "You expect me to believe that? You're in quite a hurry. Who do you think you are? Lewis Hamilton?" Jenson couldn't help but chuckle at the comparison. "No, but I've beaten him a good few times." He replied, smirking.
The officer's expression remained stoic. "I don't appreciate jokes, sir. License and registration, please." Suppressing a sigh, Jenson reached for his documents and handed them over. The officer scrutinized them before returning to his patrol car to run a check. As Jenson waited, he couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind. He understood the officer's duty, but the delay was becoming increasingly frustrating.
Finally, the officer returned, ticket in hand. "I'm issuing you a speeding ticket, Mr. Button. Please drive more responsibly in the future." Jenson gave a fake smile and took the ticket. "I appreciate the reminder, officer. I'll keep that in mind." As the officer walked off, Jenson mumbled to himself, the words "complete arsehole" being repeated multiple times.
Once home, he found Y/n sitting on the couch, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You're back! Thanks, Jenson." He handed her the bag, studying her carefully. "Alright. What's going on? Why the sudden craving and the formal use of my name?" Y/n smirked, unable to keep the secret any longer. "Okay, okay. I just wanted to see how you'd react. I like getting reactions out of you." She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.
Jenson raised an eyebrow. "Really? You made me drive to McDonald's and speed home because I thought you were pissed off with me. I got a speeding ticket!" Jenson said, lifting the ticket. "And you have a Happy girlfriend who now has McDonald's." Jenson chuckled, shaking his head. "You're something else, Y/n. Next time, just ask for McDonald's without the elaborate plan."
"It's not as effective though, is it?" She teased.
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sturnlovr · 4 days
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𝑷𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑶𝑰𝑫 ┆彡
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Pairing: boyfriend/dom!chris • poc/sub!reader
Summary: you and your boyfriend are messing around with a polaroid camera, which suddenly takes a quick turn . . .
Warnings: smuttyy, p in v, overstimulation, pet names (baby), fingering, degradation if you squint, faux sympathy, getting caught?, oral (fem receiving), choking.
Authors note: SORRY THIS IS REALLY SHORT IM WORKING ON A LONGER FIC RN AND THIS IS JS A LITTLE FILLER (also i didnt add a taglist because its not letting me tag people)
NOT PROOF READ !!
comment here to be added to the taglist
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𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
You were currently in the triplets house, specifically your boyfriend, chris sturniolos room. You were taking polaroids of him in his clothing brand, fresh love to post on insta and include in orders.
"Okay, now just sit still on the bed with your arms crossed . . . no wait run your fingers through your hair theres a peice sticking out" You try to explain to chris who was lost in his own world.
"Like this?" He questions, running his hands through his locks, the triggering strand of hair still out of place.
You groan, growing annoyed,
"No, just like this," you huff, straddling him to fix it and any other imperfections. Your tits slightly bounce infront of his face, you feel him smirk under you and the tent in his grey fresh love sweats slowly rising.
The boy puts his hands on your hips initiating you to rock on his lap,
"Chris we need to finish these pictures," You breathe out, trying to hide how turned on and wet your becoming. His grip on you is so strong that your struggling to get out of it.
"I was thinking we could take some photos of you?" Your boyfriend suggests, still keeping his firm grip, tracing random lines with his finger on your thighs.
"I dont know chris.." You bury your head in his neck, you have always been camera shy.
"It'll be fun baby, i promise" He whispers the last part in your ear before gently nibbling on it, making you practically drenched through your clothed pussy.
You nod and pull him in for a kiss which was soft and sensual, which turned into a sloppy and heated one. He bites your bottom lip, swapping spit with you. You start to grind on him, making him groan into the kiss which gave you a chance for your toungue to take dominance. He quickly grabs the camera, snapping a polaroid of the two of you making out and letting the photo drop on the bed.
You both pull away, his lips swollen, puffy and tinted purple. Chris removes your oversized fresh love shirt which left you in only your thong, no bra. He picks you up and places you on the edge of his bed. Chris forces your legs open, smiling at the thong that your wearing. it's his favourite.
He yanks it off, stuffing it into his pocket. The confused expression on your face is interrupted by chris' toungue plunging into your hole. His toungue explored your walls, it didnt seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. He was drunk on your pussy. His toungue pulled out and flicked your clit. As you reached your high, you let a loud moan slip out which causes him to stop.
"We have to be quiet baby, you dont want my brothers to hear your pretty noises do you?" You mutter a soft okay before chris runs a finger through your folds collecting your juices and bringing it to his mouth, pulling them out, making a pop sound while keeping intense eye contact before switching his focus back to your pussy.
"So fucking wet for me" He groans with his mouth near your entrance which sent vibrations through your body making you cover your mouth with your hand, hiding your moans. He takes the polaroid camera and takes a shot of your drenched pussy.
Without warning, your boyfriend pushes a finger into you, you whimper quietly feeling empty.
"Chris..." you whine,
The brunette chuckles at the sight of you,
"Awh, does the slut want more of my fingers?" He puts in another finger, thrusting it in and out at a high speed, curling it into your g-spot.
"Fuck this," He says in a low tone, slapping your hand away from your mouth,
"Wanna hear those pretty sounds," He adds a third finger into you. You move your hands to his brown curls, tugging at them while pornographic moans leave your mouth. Nick and Matt can definitely hear you.
"Oh, s-shit" you barely get the words out.
"Tell me what you want baby," His thumb finds your clit and starts to circle it.
"f-fuck i need you in m-me" you stutter as your legs start to shake, chris pulls you into another messy kiss, his fingers still moving at rapid speed.
"Let go for me ma" You instantly cream, your cum dripping out of you, of course ; chris takes another photo of this. He moves you further into the bed and flips you over so your head is facing the bed.
Chris takes his sweatpants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere in the room. He slaps your ass, kneading it shortly after.
"Ass up,"
you comply with his orders, raising your ass so it's on display below him. He hums and gives you another smack to your ass, leaving a stinging sensation.
He teases you, running his length across your entrance a few times before ramming into you, making you scream and see stars. He brings his mouth down to your back and peppers wet kisses in a trail, sucking on certain places being sure to leave a mark. He quietly whimpers, enjoying the feeling of being in you while trying to keep his dominant act.
"You close?" Chris pants, keeping his fast pace intact. You attempt to respond, but it comes out as estranged moans,
"Im fucking you dumb hm? you can't even get a word out. it's pathetic. " He scoffes and wraps his hand around your neck, slightly squeezing it. You squirm under him, trying to be free of his grasp, your sensitive bud pulsating at every thrust.
"Take it," He says through his teeth, throwing his head back at how tight you are. His thrusts start to get sloppier and slow down,
"Cum with me ma" You both release at the same time, his seed and your juices spill out together, Chris takes a polaroid of your mess before taking you to the shower to get cleaned up.
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
You and chris come home from a date the next day, his arm around your shoulder as you enter his room to see matt holding one of the polaroids you guys took the other night. Your eyes instantly widen at the boy in chris' room, his face scrunched up with disgust. He turns to chris, not even looking at you.
"Next time, keep your door locked if you have weird shit like this in here"
He walks out, throwing the polaroid in his brothers face, who laughs at this. Your face burns with embarrassment, turning your dark skin to the slightest colour of pink.
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
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nqify · 1 year
Note
AHHH I’m so happy I found ur quaritch account! I’ve been dying in lack of quaritch fics so tysm for ur service. I was fed. Also headcannon for quaritch w a shy/ naturally submissive reader? I feel like he be surprised to someone NOT being a brat against him. If u wanna, ty and have a great day?
GIRL U ARE ONTO SMTH AND I LOVE IT!! shy!sub s/o headcanons. — miles quaritch ☆
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pairings. na’vi!miles quaritch. fem!reader
content warnings. daddy kink. lil spit play. lots of dirty talk.
note. idk if this is good or not anon!!! so if you want me to change anything feel free to ask
this guys deals with so many brats on the daily!! his coworkers, his boss, the mf Lyle. He just hates having to put people in line all the time this guys deals with so many brats on the daily!! his coworkers, his boss, the mf Lyle. He just hates having to put people in line all the time
so when he meets you, it’s like a breathe of fresh air. Your naturally submissive, listening to everything he tells you to do, “hey, y/n, could you grab that for me?” And without complaining or whining you nod your head, “yes, sir.” This dude is pussy whipped already
even without all the devils tango, just doing what he says gets him going. He’s so used to ppl not following his orders, when u come along and start submitting to him, this GUY WILL NOW PREY ON U FR
when y’all start dating, he starts to notice how easily you get shy, especially with his words, “hey pretty, how are you?” your cheeks are burning up. This dude will find smth to make you flustered. he’ll give u little neck and forehead kisses to just to see how red you get from his touch. it’s fr driving him mad.
let’s just say your sitting on his lap in public, your horny asf and this guy will not give u attention. You begin to slowly grind your ass on him, he takes notice. As much as he would love take you right then and there, he wanted to test out if you’d rlly listen to him in a situation like this.
Miles pulls you by your waist, your back now hitting his chest. you could feel his hot breathe against your ear, he nibs at it a little before going in and saying, “uh, uh baby, behave”
And your ass listens. You don’t move or fight him in that matter. This guy is shocked. His ears perk up at ur submissiveness. He most def wanna fuck u more now. He’d try to keep his cool and move to ur ear again, “such a good girl for me, guess who’s going to get a reward when they get home” YOU ARE BITCH!!..
girls!! now we getting juicy!! just imagine miles pounding into you, his cock reaching every spot, making you an absolute mess!! This fucker wanna test out the waters again!! “open ur mouth for me, ma” and ofc, as a good girl U DID!! why is this guy so stunned. This most definitely triggers smth in him, you thought he was going hard before?? yeah girl no. He’s now drilling your shit, he’s reaching in deep. Not surprised if he touching your cervix now
he brings his pointer and middle finger to your bottom lip and slightly drags your mouth open a little. and then, BOOM he spits in your mouth. and ofc, you swallow it. THE FACT that he didn’t have to tell you to do that, his dick is twitching and aching for u girl.
since u submit to him so easily, this guy WILL praise you, and I mean it. You’d be taking his dick in your mouth and this fucker will not stop being so vocal towards you, “f-fuck, good girl, such a good girl” or when it’d be your first times together and ur taking his big dick he’d just praise tf outta you, “look at you mama, making daddy so proud and letting him stretch you out, s-shit” creaming as we speak!!!.
bc ur ass is so shy, he will try anything and I mean anything to get you all flustered in the bed room!! this means with his words, his touch, his movements! ANYTHING .
he’ll have u spread out on the bed, hair all messy and ur lips all puffy and pink. Your hands would be covering your face, hiding your embarrassment as you laid there, fully naked. And ofc, miles would be towering over you, this guy is 9’5 for god sake!! Even though he’s seen you naked so many times, He’d still find it so so cute how flustered you are.
He would grab both your hands and pin them above your head,“no need to be so shy baby, lemme see all of you” his tail is wagging like a dog at this point. He secretly likes how u get so shy, the fact that he gets to ruin it MAKES HIM BOOMBOOM baby making time.
bc this guy is a certified dirty talker, he will and I REPEAT!!!, he will say shit to make you embarrassed.
Y’all are literally in public and this fucker becomes behind you, grinds his bugle into your back and says, “can’t wait to fuck this pretty pussy when we get home” u froze. or when he’s annoying you a lil and you just can’t help whining out, “miles, ur so annoying” he be grinning. “that’s not what u said last night baby” get ready for him to mock tf outta you, “weren’t you all like, ah, ah, pls daddy, feels so good!!??” “want more!! ah! so big fuck” ur so fucking embarrassed now omg.
one last thing, eye contact. this fucker loves it - rlly gets the gears going. So when he’s eating your pretty pussy and looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, U GO CRAZY. you try to not look back at him, constantly dragging your gaze to smth else. But oh no, he will not take that
he pulls away from your pussy and grabs your chin, “look at me baby, cmon I know you love it - don’t you like it when daddy fucks you with his tongue?? you don’t want me to make u cum, huh?” your 100% looking at him now. like girl.
requests are still open!! don’t be shy, gimme ur fantasies rn!!!!
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merakiui · 4 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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mrswint3rs · 3 months
Note
i have a request🙏🙏i aint even gonna ask anonymously i am requesting this LOUD AND PROUD🦅🦅
female reader x wesker
reader and wesker work together and its like 2am since theyre working late and they go outside for some fresh air and share a cigarette together 😇😇😇 and that leads to them having the most disgraceful make out session ever and then wesker is needy asf that man is a brat and by the end of it he just leaves the readers legs shaking n sobbing 🦅
p.s- i love your writing its really good!! 🎀
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Partner in Crime ☽。⋆
pairings- Boss! Wesker x Fem! Assistant? reader
a/n- THANK YOU FOR THIS AMAZING REQUEST ! and im so glad you like my writing I really appreciate it <3 hope you enjoy this one (not proofread because im lazy)
NSFW WARNING :
contains- needy Wesker, Wesker planned to use reader as an experiment prior, unspoken romantic feelings, unprotected sex, brief use of pet names, age gap (reader is 20 and Wesker is 44) , breeding kink/ baby trapping ? ☁︎
⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
Wesker had a plan for you from the very moment he laid his eyes on you. He had a keen eye for pretty little things such as you.
He figured you’d be easy to lure in. You were young, presumably naive and easy to manipulate.
He never suspected you’d become one of his most valuable and loyal assets. You were far from incompetent, he was entirely wrong about that.
Originally, you were nothing more than a test subject in his mind. You would be in his ongoing experiment into the development of the T-Virus. He would have you as a guinea pig, studying your blood, tissue, cells—anything you've got available—and then using it as test samples for further research.
Upon further studies, Wesker realized that you did possess an intelligence and ingenuity rivaling his own.
He came to realize that working with you was a far more effective way to achieve his overall goals for the future. With you by his side, he knew he could complete his experiments at a faster pace than he ever could on his own.
He needed someone just like you who was smart, cunning, and willing to do the dirty work necessary to advance his research.
So he changed tactics and began to work on winning you over, first by flattery and compliments, then by subtle manipulation and coercion. He knew that with enough time, you'd fall right into line.
You started to trust him, and even felt a little bit attracted to him. He had a way with words and his sharp intelligence made him even more appealing. You felt like he saw into your soul and understood everything about you. You felt connected to him. You had similar desires for the world.
Soon, you became his right hand man, doing most of his infiltration work. He has you sneaking around in secret missions, gathering information, and collecting samples of needed viruses. You become his most trusted associate and he relies upon you to carry out his darkest duties. You’re the one he trusts with all of his unspoken secrets.
Except for one.
He is capable of feeling love, and despite his attempts to hide it, he can't help but harbor growing feelings towards you. He would never admit it to anybody—especially not to himself—but there is a certain appeal and tenderness to you that he cannot deny.
It’s a secret that he would rather take to his grave, but it is also one of the few things that keeps him going throughout his dark and twisted journey.
You are the perfect girl for him. You understand him in a way that no one else can, carrying incomparable knowledge and morality. You see beyond the corruption and to the person underneath. You make him feel something that he has never felt before—an emotion that drives him to do things he never thought possible.
You are his strength and his weakness, the one thing that he can't live without.
The two of you worked hand in hand, never butting heads.
After you obtained the needed sample, fulfilling his orders, you both researched and developed the Plaga together, coming up with new ways to use it as a weapon.
You worked late nights, often staying up for days on end as you worked towards making the idea of complete global saturation a soon to be reality.
You are always there when he needs an able mind, helping to guide the progression of the project.
No matter the day of the week, the time, or how little you’re rewarded. You fulfill your duties promptly.
⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
You’re both working late tonight; as always, just the two of you in the lab.
Wesker can’t deny how much he enjoys your company on its own, but even so, he tried his damndest to prioritize his evolution. He knew he more than likely was capable of completing these tasks on his own. But he liked it better with you around.
He hates not having you right at the hip, knowing you’re fully devoted to his cause.
He wasn’t entirely debased, he knew you were often overworked at his selfish call. You pushed yourself for him. “Up for a smoke break?” he suggests, putting his handy-work aside for a moment.
“Sure. Could use some fresh air.”
You don’t smoke very often, but you find yourself craving one right now. It's been a long night, and this is a nice chance to clear your head.
Wesker stands silently next to you as you arrive outside, staring off into the distance and taking puffs from his cigarette.
He offers it to you, and you draw closer to him.
You take a drag, enjoying the taste and the feel of his body next to yours. You feel your body relax, and the tension in your shoulders easing. The smoke fills your lungs with a tranquil warmth.
You continue to slowly take puffs from the cigarette, ashing back and forth with Wesker. The nicotine is having its desired effect, and you feel a sense of euphoria wash over you as the stress of the night slips away.
But you can hardly be calm with each passing.
There’s no denying the tension between you. His hand brushes against yours every chance it gets as you’re already standing against each other. Your breaths mix together at each exhale of smoke.
Neither of you are speaking but you don’t have to. Great minds think alike after all.
He makes the first move, growing tired of holding back.
Dropping the cig, you’re suddenly pressed against the concrete wall of the building, his lips completely devouring yours.
In no way do you resist.
He cups your face gently but he kisses you with intense need, his breath coming out in burning gasps into your mouth.
He made no attempt at being tidy. His saliva mixes with yours, aching to become one with you. He presses against you, longing to feel your form in full. His leg delves between yours, his knee hiking further up your tight, pencil skirt.
The contact against your sensitive bundle of nerves brings out a moan, only increasing Wesker’s oncoming thirst.
But you stop his hand as he cups you through the thin fabric of your panties, causing him to pull away conflicted. He thought you were on the same page.
“Too fast for you?”
You lay your head against his shoulder for a moment, hiding your embarrassment.
The simple gesture makes his stomach flutter. You got so overwhelmed so easily from his actions. He found it adorable.
“We shouldn’t…” you mumble, though your words contradict your actions.
“And why shouldn’t we? I’m fairly certain we both want this.”
Really you had no reason why you shouldn’t. And as he presses desperate kisses along the curve of your neck, suckling and tracing with the tip of his tongue, you lose all common sense.
Your hands unclasp his leather belt, swiftly removing it from the loops.
As you work the button of his pants, unzipping and dragging them down, he takes it as a green light, dropping your panties to your ankles. You step your heel covered feet out of them, discarding them to the dirt of the ground without care.
Wesker firmly flips you around, pressing your face into the wall and pinning your arms behind your back with one hand. The other bunches your skirt up over your ass, exposing you to the cool night air.
“Think you can handle me, darling?” He asks rhetorically. You were going to take it either way, you were already this far. Right in his hold.
He teased his hardness between the slick of your folds, the heat making you feel woozy.
He slapped it against your clit a couple times before positioning to your opening, teasing in and out with just the tip. You curve backwards into it, yearning for more than just teasing and he slides in fully with a low grunt.
You suck him in, greedily backing up on further on him.
At the stance you’re in, the head of his cock pokes and prods at just the right angle with every buck of his hips, making you mewl out embarrassingly loud.
Wesker slams into your tight cunt so fast he slips out a few times. You were oozing with arousal, drenching around his cock so much he could hardly keep it together.
He keeps his strong grip on your wrists, keeping you bound while he stuffs you full. “Feels so good…” he growls out, “Can’t believe I waited this long to feel you like this.”
“Can’t take it-“ you cry out in response to his merciless pounding. He doesn’t slow or even consider, instead propelling even further.
“You can, and you will.”
Take it like the good little slut that you are.” he coos, “You can do it darling. Take all of me.”
Tears fill your lash line, threatening to spill as he continues, the pleasure overriding all of your senses. You couldn’t think straight, only standing because of his robust hold on you.
Your legs go wobbly, tears spilling out as you reach your climax, the best you’d ever had. You fall completely limp, brain gone dumb.
He loses his small bit of control, cock pulsing and twitching inside you as his cum bursts out without warning.
His mind goes fuzzy, his mouth pouring out whiny ‘I love you’s along with your name repeatedly without thinking about it, feeling too over the moon to care about the repercussions of his words.
He meant them. You were his everything, and he was sure to make it so you remained that way.
So he fills you up with his sticky seed, needing you to cary that constant reminder of him within you.
He was going to keep you as his own, no matter the cost.
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