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#and everyone has jade skin
prastevnik · 3 months
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Looney tunes/Ну, погоди! music starts playing in the background Honestly I am sorry. That's just how it played in my head. After watching The Untamed my friend made me read the original novel. Currently I am in half of the book. There are some weird not okay scenes, on the other hand there are also many strangely goofy parts which keep me intrigued.
Also, novel Nie Mingjue is a twink? And even Wen fricking Ruohan is a twink? What the hell? Too many twinks in the book
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hiraya-rawr · 1 year
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— oh and by the way im married (zhongli) .
synopsis !! zhongli neglects to inform his friends that he's married.
contains !! they/them reader but referred to as wife, comedic dialogue
Z H O N G L I
Perhaps it's the fact that you've been married for centuries that informing others didn't seem to be a priority for Zhongli.
It wasn't obvious either. He had his day job and you had yours. To regular couples, the amount of distance you two spend would be a little strange, but time is something you have in abundance so it didn't really matter when you spend a few days apart doing your day jobs.
It was Hutao who brought it up the on the evening's Lantern Rite dinner.
"Aiyaya, it seems like everybody alive and dead has a date for this year's lantern rite."
"Hahaha! And here we are celebrating a feast with new and old friends. It doesn't sound like much of a loss to me." Venti laugjs, pouring himself a drink that threatens to overflow from his hand.
"I'm not saying it's a loss, I'm simply wondering wouldn't some of you want to spend the night with a special someone?" She smirks, eyes scanning the group. Chongyun coughs into his cup as Xiao averts his gaze from the troublemaker.
"If you're asking for my opinion, I'd say everyone here is quite special to me," Lumine smiles warmly before glancing at the two archons and yaksha, "I'm sure there's still time for dating in the future. We're not that old."
"Well. . ." Hutao turns to Zhongli. He raises a brow, placing down his cup.
"May I ask why you're staring at me, Director Hu?"
"No reason~ It's just, as your boss, of course I'm a little bit concerned. Aren't you wasting your youth by not going out on dates, mister Zhongli? I'm sure there's a line of Liyuens who would love to–"
A burst of laughter comes from the green bard. "Oh, him? On a Lantern Rite date with someone else? (Name) would surely kill him."
"(Name)?" Everyone questions.
"Huh? He didn't tell you?" Venti tilts his head.
Zhongli coughs, "Ah. . . Please don't be concerned about my dating life, Director Hu. After all, I am already married."
Silence.
A cup drops.
Tea spills (literally).
Then,
"Married?!" The restaurant shakes as Hutao and Lumine jolt upright, hands slamming the table.
"Married." Zhongli confirms.
"What! For how long? When? What's their name? Why have you never–"
Zhongli hushes, trying to calm his boss from jumping over the table. His face dusts a light pink, perhaps embarrassed by the whole ordeal.
"For a few. . . years now. As you know, they're (Name). And as for why I never mentioned my wife. . ." He glances at the crowd, ". . . I simply forgot."
"You. . . forgot," Xingqiu slowly repeats.
"Yes, it seems I've forgotten to inform everyone. Then again, is it not obvious that I'm a married man?"
Chongyun covers his face in his hands, processing the whole ordeal, "Thinking back. . . mister Zhongli always had a domestic kind of aura. It seems so obvious now."
"Wait, wait, wait! How come I didn't know about this? We work together almost everyday! And why does Venti know! Didn't you two just met! Do you even have a ring?" Hutao interjects, flabbergasted as Zhongli and Venti freezes.
In truth, he does have a ring. One he carved himself made of only the most precious of jade and metal. It has rested under his glove for centuries—
Under his glove also hides his draconic arms, golden veins against dark brown, almost scale-like skin. Proof of a entity greater than human.
"Ehe. . . about that," Venti nervously looks away, "I've actually. . . met his wife before!" He covers up, voice laced with enthusiasm.
"Yes, yes, my wife is quite fond of Mondstadt's songs. They've frequently visited the nation before."
"And you don't come along?" Xiangling asks.
"I don't."
The group blinks.
"And what about the ring? I never see you wear a wedding ring." Hutao narrows her eyes.
"That's because I don't wear it." He answers bluntly.
". . . and you never introduced them to us because. . .?" Lumine questions.
"Because . . . I haven't had the time to?"
Hutao rests back on her chair, her eyes glazed in judgment, "No offense mister Zhongli, but you seem like a terrible husband. If you don't get your act straight, I'd say your marriage won't last."
His jaw drops. Venti laughs.
|| ko-fi support / character m.list ||
~ bonus ~
"Darling, am I a terrible husband?"
"No? What makes you think that?"
"No reason. Although I believe we should try dating publicly."
tumblr has been deleting my last paragraphs why
//for some reason tumblr has been deleting my last lines in drafts so i have to type this so my last sentences wont get deleted
"No reason. But perhaps it's about time I show you off to the public more."
ko-fi support | character m.list
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yuri-is-online · 5 months
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Why So Rude? (Or Yuu's BF Asks Crewel for their Hand in Marriage and What Happens Next Will Shock You)
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For legal reasons, this is a joke. I have been dealing with a health issue of sorts (i am not dying so no worrying ok? just v annoyed) so writing longer stuff is escaping me at the moment, enjoy some crack while I take a breather. More can be found on my masterlist here.
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NO (FLOYD, Rook, and Malleus)
Crewel has been in denial about this "relationship" since it started. Not that his disapproval is really going to stop Floyd, but Crewel 100% refers to him as "Yuu's ex boyfriend" much to the confusion of... everyone who hears that. They do find some common ground in their shared interest in fashion, but Crewel has never forgiven him for his behavior in his class OR his "stealing" Yuu's heart.
Rook on the other hand he didn't have too much of an issue with until he realized just how familiar he seemed to be with his home for someone who had supposedly only been there to visit you. The twenty page letter he wrote to confess his feelings to you didn't help either once he saw the few lines where Rook wrote about the beauty of your finger prints, but he knows his disapproval means very little to someone as obsessed with romance as Rook.
Malleus... is the King of a country genuinely hostile to humans and Crewel thinks he is a little too obsessed with Yuu for his own good. He is also not a fan of how condescending Malleus is towards his disapproval, but it's an issue that will be worked out eventually. They are fighting out of love for the same person, your safety and happiness is all they really care about at the end of the day.
No, but as a joke (Sebek and Jack)
I don't think he has anything against him really, he just wants to see how important tradition and the opinion of his elders actually is to him. When Sebek begins to plead his case because he does not wish to put a wedge between Yuu and their father figure, but cannot deny his feelings for Yuu Crewel's more than happy to "change his mind." He knows you will be happy and well looked after.
Jack is a solid partner, and he is a wolf beastman who speaks of Yuu as his soulmate, his one and only, his eternal life partner and- well. Crewel just can't resist a bit of teasing, he's always been so serious and easy to fluster about these sort of things. The sheepish look on his face when he realizes Crewel has been teasing him makes it very worth it.
I can't stop you can I... (Leona, Kalim, and Rollo)
While Crewel has faith that Leona has what it takes to save his home- he lives in the Sunset Savannah. That is really far away from the Queendom of Roses ( ; ω ; ) have some pity on your poor father he can't travel that far all the time it's bad for his skin. The pressures of being the partner of royalty is something he worries over, but a smug promise from Leona to protect you soothes his worries somewhat.
The flippant way Kalim talks about the assassination attempts is not the way Crewel wants to hear about attempts on your life or heaven forbid your death. Kalim is very sympathetic to this, he has no real argument against how ignorant he was in the past, but he isn't a child anymore. Just filled with a childlike love for the world and determination to make it better. It is hard to say no to that.
Rollo is too much like Trein. His request for your hand in marriage feels like something that the old man would cry tears of genuine joy over, so of course he hates it. Unfortunately he also knows how much this teen grandfather matters to you or whatever so the answer will be yes. At least he has an excuse to visit Fleur City more now.
Give me one good reason. (Azul, Jade, Idia, and Lilia)
Azul was such a good student that he should have zero complaints that you started dating. But he also isn't blind and dislikes being pandered to, which is very much what Azul is doing here. He does wonder briefly if this is a cultural thing and he is being insensitive, but he is still exasperated enough to not immediately say yes. The strange twinkle that comes to Azul's eyes at the prospect of negotiations makes him wish he had though.
Speaking of not being blind, what does the Leech family do and is it legal? Survey says probably yes, but Crewel remembers dealing with Jade's parents while he was in school and has no desire to feed his child to the shar- err eels. Jade immediately begins to sniffle, oh how could Crewel say such bad things about him? A poor innocent eel and blah blah blah. If Jade wasn't such a good partner he'd be cooked.
Crewel understands and appreciates the effort Idia has put in to his personal growth and he has no desire to shit on that... but S.T.Y.X. and the secrecy around it is no joke. He wants to continue having a relationship with Yuu and as soon as Idia reassures him of that he has no more objections.
Lilia is an old man, a war criminal, and a father. Of course Crewel has seen how he was able to live as a student while at NRC but his own credit as a father would be under fire if he didn't object mildly. Lilia has some fun with it and has a bit more respect for him for objecting. So long as the eventual answer is yes.
Yes (Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jamil, and Epel)
While Crewel does have some red flag concerns concerning Riddle's mother, he has no real objections to Riddle himself. He is a perfect gentlemen and the correct amount of nervous to be asking the question. He gets full marks, as if there would ever be any other outcome.
Trey is that sort of solid option that parents really love, but he also has that tight personal relationship with Crewel from his Science Club days. He lives in the Queendom and is tight with his own family there are few better places for Yuu to be.
While Cater isn't Crewel's favorite student, he doesn't hate him or the Shaftlands. He is also not entirely unconvinced that him asking is for a magicam trend but! He has no real major objections. He is more than ready to have two kids, as soon as Cater is willing to admit he could use a stable father figure.
I don't think that Ruggie would even suggest marrige unless he's obtained that stable, high paying job he so baldy wants and has moved his Granny out of the slums. It's the perfect time to ask for permission to propose, and while the Savannah is still super far away (r.i.p. Crewel's skin) he is much more supportive of the two of you and how far you've come.
Similarly to Ruggie, I don't think Jamil would propose to Yuu unless his personal issues with Kalim and his position with the Asim's had been sorted. He wants to actually travel on his honeymoon, and Crewel is very willing to suggest the Queendom of Roses. Jamil's ego is absolutely stroked by how Crewel had zero objections but your adoptive dad doesn't get to see how smug it makes him, Jamil saves the smirks for when you say yes.
I think that Crewel seems to like all of the first years, and Epel is no exception. Sure, his request starts out well put together and polite but devolves into a dialect that leaves Crewel with no idea of what he's saying, but he has a general idea. Of course Epel has his blessing, Harveston sounds like a lovely place for Yuu to live their life in Twisted Wonderland and Epel a perfect person to keep them safe and happy.
He already planned the wedding (Ace, Deuce, Silver and Vil)
I know what you're saying. Crewel approving of Ace? Of course he does! He was in his homeroom class, and Crewel has a soft spot for trouble makers from the Queendom, he was one after all! Sure he might have had some problems with him when you first started dating, but now, when he is deathly serious saying he wants to spend the rest of his life with you? Crewel has been waiting for this since he fist saw carrot head yanking your chain.
Deuce is a much easier sell, Crewel was always a bit harsh on his intelligence, but only because he ran a tight ship and wanted him to reach for the stars. Well he has, and he has you to support him through it, Crewel is so proud of both. He and Dilla have absolutely been hypothetically planning this for years.
While Silver's curse did not endear him to Crewel for his first two years of schooling, he really grew on him when you started going out. He's glad that you've found someone who loves you as much as Silver does, really he is. Unfortunately this means he has to plan a wedding with Lilia, something they both have been doing since you started going out and never talked about. Don't worry! They only intend to fight a lot little bit.
The instant you started dating Vil Crewel entered his mother of the bride era. The permission asking was less Vil wanting to be polite and more him coming up with a way to distract him and convince him to focus on designing the clothes. Thankfully it works and no one other than his dogs have to know just how insane the prospect of his two favorite students marrying made him.
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alexisomnias · 11 months
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— TELL YOU I LOVE YOU. . . | twst
⤷ he'd be a pine tree (— pining trope)
characters | OVERBLOT BOYS
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! RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS         -  knees brushing against each other, leading to deep breaths and giddy feels.
riddle is hopelessly in love with you, to the point its distracting. seriously? how could he let his feelings grow this large to the point he can't even simply go near you without his mind running off to a romantic version of your real relationship. oh, how riddle hopes that daydream would one day become real, but for now. he needs to get back on trac-
"riddle? are you okay?" your voice raises, cutting through and silencing his voice playing loops in his head. he blushes, his hair color blending to his face as his breath catches. stomach churning nervously as he feels your skin brush against his, a blockage in his throat as his head pounds nervously. how much he really wants to hold your hand now, or wrap his arms around you... (when was he so touch starved...?)
"y-yes.. im perfectly fine. thanks for your concern." he nods, gazing away, afraid that even a few more seconds of meeting your eyes would cause the butterflies in his stomach to explode from inside out. why couldn't he just be straight up about his feelings...
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! LEONA KINGSCHOLAR        -  taking care of them in the shadows
leona was a blunt man. always straight to the point, and uncaring of others first opinions on him. but with you? oh it seems like nothing that ever comes out of his mouth is honest! its not like he lies to you, its just that he never finishes his full thought. "stop dragging me into trouble" i don't want to see you hurt, "why are you touching me?" you could've asked...
so, what better way of getting out his feelings to anybody but the true object of affection? well simply let himself lie in your shadow. for all those in front of you too gaze and know for, but for you? you won't see the slight affection and care that seeps into his gaze, nor will you know that behind the scenes he is ensuring your life upon arriving to Twisted Wonderland will be nothing but easy and like royalty. for he does not want to ever see you struggle.
so he'll be in your shadow. for him to follow you and love you, for everyone else to see that love except you... until he decides to appear before you once the sun comes out and he's ready to open himself to that level of vulnerability, to step out of the dark and show his face.
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! AZUL ASHENGROTTO        -  digging in their interests so that you have common topics to talk about
it was quite well known that azul has many connections, many ways to get information and to utilize it. his office is like an archive for all secrets and importance. but for that section of his brain, it holds everything about you. from silly daydreams, to just everything you like and what could make you happy. he truly had an entire library of thoughts and knowledge dedicated to you only with a key to those who break into his heart whether he'd like it or not. floyd and jade, being two, never left him alone about it.
it was no secret to his two friends that azul was a simp, he'd die before admitting it, but its true! he was utterly floored everytime you smiled at him, everytime you greeted him first. he was down-bad to the point he'd of made it to the bottom of the Mariana trench. Azul only wanted to make you happy, and get to know you better. even if he had no chance to call you a lover, this was far more than enough. so he got into all your interests so he had a common interest with you, no matter how wild, he'd end up loving it because you love it. and he loves you.
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! JAMIL VIPER        -  Instant butterflies when you call out their name
"jamil!" you called excitedly, waving him over with a beautiful, utterly handsome smile on your face.
jamil was used to his name being called. from Kalim to the servants in the house. it is common knowledge to know a servant would get his name called, for an order of sorts. to be told. but with you? oh it was so so different... normally everytime his name was called he'd be filled with dread. what would he have to do next? but with you? it is filled with such euphoria. your calling him, you want to talk to him, you want to see him. its such a strange thing to jamil on how his name being called could be so different. from just a simple tone, simple vocal difference. how is it so different everytime you call his name?
jamil would be ready to walk no mattered distance if he could meet you again. ugh.... how did he end up this deep in love? he's merely in high school...
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! VIL SCHOENHEIT        - having your every little thing memorized 
vil schoenheit was an actor. master of memorizing lines, and routines of all sorts. and yet, he is also a master of memorizing you. from your lovely smile, to your hair, to your hypnotic eyes. vil has it all remembered as if he's going to chisel an exact replica of you as a statue. this memory of his helps him realize every little emotion you have. your lips are a little bit more curved, are you okay dear? your hair is not in its usual style? what brought up this change? oh you must've gotten new clothes, he's never seen this outfit before.
all of which are in effort of loving you. he truly never thought he'd find the day where of he'd care so much for someone that every bit of them is put into memory. every touch, feeling of skin put into his mind like a note sheet. notes upon notes about every little thing he notices about you... and if you catch him staring..?
"vil? do i have something on my face? you've been staring for a while..."
"oh no, there's nothing there. just noticing the beauty that's made its mark."
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! IDIA SHROUD       - dropping everything at their messages
idia wasn't the type for social interaction, in fact any sorts of it he would immediately ditch on. for even if he gets a messaged it would be left on read for weeks, but with you? oh its like theres a personal alarm set for himself! every message, or call you make is received right away. like an update for a game or show, he sees it right away and it immediately leaves him feeling giddy...
for an introvert, anti-socialist, like him. it was unfamiliar to get such a wonderful sensation upon being talked to... being noticed... having someone contact him first, willingly? oh how it felt like the world flipped itself for him, and complied to his wills and wants. and those wants? oh its to call you his... but i guess he got too far caught into the selfshipping delusions for he doubts you'll ever love him above online friend (he's to nervous to meet you face to face. you're so ethereal).
when the notification goes off, the typing bubble immediately comes up. hes not missing your message for the world.
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! MALLEUS DRACONIA        - rambling about something you love and all they do is stare at them lovingly
malleus is completely, and totally infatuated with you. every word you speak, every breath you take it has him at the edge of his seat. ready to love and adore whatever you do next. he thinks everything you do is lovely, and worthy of adoration. he especially loves when you tell him about whatever interests you may have. Malleus absolutely adores listening to you.
please, tell him about anything and he'll listen so devotedly. how he loves knowing your comfortable enough around him to tell him and talk about your interests, whether from Twisted Wonderland, or from your world, "earth". anything and everything you tell him he is so ready to listen and learn. its coming from you, its something you consider important. so its only natural he listens.
and when you do rant, he stares and listens. looking at you like your the only thing in his universe, a beautiful sunset of which he's never laid his eyes upon before. a gift given by the world for him to love and cherish. and he'll learn everything about this treasure he has the pleasure of knowing. so... child of man, tell him more.
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merakiui · 5 months
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The Most Dangerous Game [1]
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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 second half here.
Even though Floyd has yet to invite you to any of his practices and games, you’ve attended each one like a diligent, dedicated, devoted parasite. You sit amongst a sea of faces and watch him dribble down the court, sweat clinging to every curvature of muscle that composes his well-built figure. He’s glowing down there, a radiant sun that everyone, both offense and defense, seems to revolve around. And when he scores—when his lips widen into that goofy, good-natured grin you adore so dearly—you’re the first to rise from the bench and cheer like a marionette on strings.
For all of your support, Floyd never looks your way.
Why should he? You cannot expect light to acknowledge shadow when both are so contrasting. Instead you’ve contented yourself with admiring him from afar, sectioned off from his brilliance with invisible barriers and walls. He’s something of a celebrity in your eyes—an untouchable, unfathomable star.
He’s the reason you’ve started wearing your makeup a certain way—lavender eyeshadow and liquid eyeliner and the softest touch of glitters upon your skin. He never notices; you never expect him to. He’s the reason you’ve applied for a job at the Mostro Lounge, swallowing the anxiety that comes with nerve-racking interviews and social interaction in hopes of getting hired. You failed both times (you talked too much in the first interview and in the second you didn’t talk enough).
By the third attempt, you’ve made a modicum of progress. You’re certain all is right in your world when you leave the VIP room, still fidgeting with post-interview jitters. As you wander through the glorious tunnel hall, awash in dappled light and mulling over the worth of the position you applied for and whether it’s the best for Floyd-watching, you happen to cross paths with your star.
And he is so bright today.
“Oh, Floyd, hello!”
He turns, assesses you with a fleeting once-over, and then hums his lazy greeting. “Sup, Shrimpy.”
Shrimpy. Even though he hardly spares you the time of day, hearing that nickname—the one reserved only for you—is enough to soothe the sting of cyclical, never-ending neglect.
“We might be coworkers soon,” you tell him, unable to contain your enthusiasm.
“That right?” 
You nod, rocking back and forth on your heels. “I look forward to working with you! Um… Maybe you can show me the ropes?”
Floyd considers it, his lips twisting into a disinterested half-frown. “We’ll see. It gets kinda busy and Azul’s always puttin’ me out on the floor. I dunno if I’d have enough time. ’Sides, he’ll probably want Jade teachin’ ya. He’s better at that stuff.”
“That’s okay! I can handle crowded,” you blurt, desperate to reel him in before he can slip through your fingers yet again, an eel in every sense of the word. “And I’m sure you’re just as good, if not better, than Jade!��
It’s worth it if we can be closer. If I can stand next to you, admire you, watch you work…
Floyd stares at your clasped hands. If he notices the way your fingernails—each painted a delicate purple—pierce your palms, he doesn’t comment. His mismatched gaze flicks to your face.
“Ya hafta get hired before any of that.”
“Ah, that’s true. Well, actually, I just came out of an interview. I think I did well.”
“Who knows,” he says, grinning, and your heart sprouts ivory wings, bone poking through organs to shred them into ribbons. Floyd leans in close, his face centimeters from yours, and you can smell the wild ocean that clings to him—the natural scent of his home mixed with sandalwood cologne. You’d devour him if you could, but then that would leave you with a pile of bones and you like the energetic life that is just barely contained within so much muscle. “Shrimpy’d look good in my uniform.”
And before you can boldly cover the remaining sliver of distance, he’s floating away with a mystical giggle, pulled from your proximity by some invisible force. You’d follow him down the hall if you weren’t so overcome with joyous shock, nearly folding in on yourself with a pulse so rapid you fear it’ll ascend into your throat. Beneath makeup so meticulously applied, your face is warming with a ferocious heat.
He said I’d look good in the uniform. 
Your hands press against your cheeks to quell spreading embarrassment, and you’re unable to suppress the toothy smile that pulls your lips apart.
No, not just that. He said I’d look good in his uniform. His uniform! Floyd said that. Floyd told me I would look good in his uniform!
The space between ribs and lungs suddenly becomes a cage filled with restless butterflies, each fluttering amidst pearly bone and velvety organs. You replay his words as if they are the finest song, a tune uniquely produced by Floyd, and it sets your heart on a frenzied track. But then it sinks into your stomach when you realize you forgot to reapply the expensive perfume you procured from Sam’s shop. Could he still faintly smell it even with the closeness? It’s sultry-sweet, smelling of vanilla, patchouli, and a handful of blossoms you can’t recall the names of.
You can, however, remember what the perfume is called—Date Night. You bought it solely because you were certain it would be to Floyd’s tastes, but even now, as you yank your sleeve up to sniff your wrist, you realize you have no idea what constitutes a pleasant scent for him. Like his moods, his interests are always mercurial. Today he might like youthful scents. Tomorrow he might prefer something mature. Next week he might hate both.
“Black orchid,” he says, and you whirl to face him, your tongue tied in knots.
“Flo—” It promptly unties itself the minute you recognize who stands before you. “Oh, it’s just you, Jade.”
“My, how dejected you sound. Have I made you unhappy?”
“Not at all. I just…thought you were Floyd for a minute.”
“Most often do.”
“Right.” You fold your arms behind your back, looking anywhere that isn’t at him. “Um… Could I trouble you with something?”
“I suppose I have enough time to lend a listening ear.”
“Okay, so I was interviewed again for a server position and I think I did well, but I’m still not sure if it was well enough. That’s why I’m hoping you might be able to put in a good word for me. Since you’re close with Azul, you know.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re as close as you think.”
You cut through him with a sharp scowl, unamused with whatever game he’s playing. “This is important.”
“As is the distinction in how we define closeness. Is it a matter of time that molds a bond, or is it a matter of physical proximity? For example, our proximity allows me to make note of your perfume. Would that make us just as close, if not closer, than where I stand with Azul?”
Your brow furrows, but then you’re grasping at his lapels, eyes wide and crazed. “You noticed?! Do you think Floyd would notice? Does he like black orchids?”
“He has a keen nose, yes.”
“But…”
Jade tilts his head at you, his hands closing around yours and expertly peeling them off. He smooths the nonexistent wrinkles in his blazer. “There is no but.”
“But Floyd can’t identify flowers and he might not appreciate it like you do.” You peer at him, frowning. “There is a but. Two buts.”
“Ah, you know him well.”
“Hardly. I don’t even know if he likes this kind of perfume.”
“Have you tried asking?”
You open your mouth to answer—yes, yes of course!—but the lie sticks in your throat.
“My record is five minutes,” you say instead, which is arguably more telling than the inquiry you’ve left unanswered.
Jade raises a perfect eyebrow. “You keep track?”
“He usually gives me five minutes or however long his interest in me lasts. Sometimes he doesn’t even spare me a glance. I go to all of his games and practices. I cheer the loudest. I make sure to offer him a water bottle and towel after everything’s over. Still, no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I’m only afforded a few minutes.”
“How unfortunate.”
“You don’t sound very sympathetic.”
Jade chuckles. “Am I meant to?”
Cold-hearted ass. Floyd would never be this mean to me.
You almost give him the pleasure of an icy retort, but you catch yourself. “Can you please just tell Azul to seriously consider me? I want to work at the lounge! And isn’t he always saying he could use more help? Well, here I am—and it’s all willing. No trick contracts necessary.”
Jade hums, stepping around you to assess…something. You aren’t quite sure what that something is, but after a moment of silence he looks at you and says, “The Mostro Lounge is an establishment, not a place for play.”
“I wouldn’t play. I’d work.”
“Work and play are essentially the same when you’re so blinded by certain distractions.”
Unsurprisingly, he sees through your motives. Jade has always been perceptive as a pinpoint, slicing to the heart of matters until the bitter truths leak out. Although your interest in Floyd has never been secret, it’s still troublesome that you can’t fool him with excuses.
Your shoulders deflate. “How else am I supposed to get closer to Floyd? I can’t join the basketball team and I might not get hired for the lounge. I can’t even transfer to Octavinelle either because I’m head of Ramshackle! This is so unfair.” To cement the complaint, you scuff your shoe against the tiles, huffing noisily. “I’m a loyal customer, too! I always pay the one drink minimum when I visit, and sometimes I get more than one just so Azul won’t kick me out for loitering. I even have the menu and its prices memorized by heart! I’d be a perfect worker.”
“And yet your only motivation for wanting to work is to see Floyd during his shifts.”
“Exactly! He served me once, you know. It was a really good day…”
You sigh, smiling dreamily as the memory surfaces like foam on a rising tide. He’d balanced the drink on a silver tray, weaving smoothly through the aisle spotted with servers and customers alike, and there was a certain bounce in his step. It was a great day solely because Floyd’s mood was sunny, and when he’s pleased you’re pleased. When he stopped at your table, he set the drink down—a fizzy slush dyed blue and purple—and said, “Shrimpy likes sweet stuff, yeah?”
Not always, you thought, but you nodded and wrapped your fingers around the cold glass, savoring his voice more than the pretty presentation itself. You purchased this one solely because it reminded you of the Coral Sea and its ice floes during winter. Floyd didn’t seem to make the connection, but you didn’t expect him to. Just knowing he was the one handling your beverage was enough for you. You must have been admiring him for too long because he was smiling the next moment, one arm draped over the booth so he could observe you much closer than before. You’d shrunk into the booth, fearing he’d taken issue with such blatant staring.
And then he giggled, angling his head in that cute, childish way. “Shrimpy’s eyes are reeeal pretty.” He hummed to himself, seeming satisfied with your mute shock. “Just like shiny stones.”
If you had been sipping, you’re certain the fruity liquid would have gone down with a choke. Before you could insist on an elaboration—what sort of stone? Why do you say that? Are they really that pretty?—he was slinking away, practically sparkling with a potent thrill.
For the rest of the time you spent in the lounge, your heart was packed full of feathers.
“He said my eyes were pretty. Isn’t that just wonderful?”
“It’s the truth,” Jade echoes, a hand held over his heart. “When the light hits your eyes at the right—”
“Oh!” Your exclamation seems to startle him, but you pay it no mind. “Azul probably thinks I’ll be subpar because of my interest in Floyd, but if I can prove that I won’t be distracted he’ll definitely hire me!”
“I…” He pauses, furrows his brows briefly, and then assumes his usual countenance. You miss the flicker of hurt that fizzles out in his eyes, snuffed like candlelight at midnight. “I suppose it would certainly give you a better chance at securing a position.”
“Then I’ll just say everything I’ve always wanted to tell him and I’ll be able to focus.”
“My, aren’t you a bold thing?”
“You wish. There’s no way I could do something like that.” You clap your hands and raise them above your head in pleading prayer. “So please let me practice on you instead!”
“Practice?” He blinks. “On me?”
“Don’t play dumb. It’s not cute.” Huffing, you reach up and flick his forehead, a daring gesture that might’ve earned his ire if he wasn’t smiling like a scheming devil. “You’re Floyd’s twin. If I pretend you’re him and run through a practice speech, it’ll be easier to confess when the time comes.”
“Do you honestly think so?” His feet carry him towards the lounge, shoes clicking out a rhythm of departure. “I’m afraid I’m not a charity. You’d have much better luck discussing your problem with Azul.”
He’s deliberate in his movements. If he walks away from you, it’ll leave you with a sense of urgency—if you don’t negotiate a deal now the discussion will end here and you’ll never have another chance to broach this subject again. You know his game. You hate his game, but playing it is the only way to get through to him.
He really does look like Floyd when his back is turned, and watching him walk away from you is more agonizing than a knife to the stomach.
Swallowing your rationality, you hasten your steps and seize his arm. He stops and cranes his neck to peer at you.
“Wait. Just…” You scowl at the floor, hot with shame. “Please help me. I’ll do whatever you want in return. Just let me run a practice confession by you and then I’ll never bother you again.”
“You were so confident before. Where’d your bravado go? If you’re going to confess, you must have courage.” You can’t bear to lift your head to view his knowing smirk. “I’m even willing to cheer for you.”
“Stop dragging this out. Just tell me what you want.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” Lithe fingers curl under your chin to raise your stare to his. His eyes flash with mischief, softening in a way that’s so reminiscent of his brother. And then, as if to inflict even more emotional damage, he adds in Floyd’s nasally timbre, “Shrimpy likes havin’ fun, yeah?”
Oh.
Oh, he’s good.
Too good.
You jerk back so fast that your sneakers squeak on the floor, gratingly explosive in the otherwise empty, silent hall.
“You… You—how did you—” Your heart is thrumming beneath your shirt, a ticking bomb just waiting to blow your chest open. “That was a perfect impression of Floyd.”
“It’s nothing special. I’m merely putting on a voice.”
“No, it’s really special. It’s everything!” You twirl towards the glass, suppressing a squeal. “That was so Floyd! I can’t believe you can do such a good impersonation! Jade, this changes everything. You’re just what I need to make this confession work!”
He stares at you as you spin and giggle like a drunken ballerina. “Is that so?”
“Yes! Very so!” You skip over to him and clutch his hands, grinning like a maniac. “Please help me with this and I’ll do whatever you want. And if I get hired, I’ll pull more than my weight! I promise!”
He peers at your face, speechless for a brief second, before his heterochromatic hues flick to your hands clasped around his. “Very well. I’ll help you, but in return I’d like your assistance with something.”
“With what? Come on, Jade. Don’t be an ass.”
“I would never.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
He chuckles. “I’d like a taste-tester.”
“A…taste-tester?”
“You heard correctly.”
“For the lounge?”
“For my own personal hobby.” He smiles sincerely—or about as sincere as he can get when he’s Jade Leech—and adds in a mournful tone, “Azul and Floyd are rather stubborn when it comes to trying my mushroom dishes, so I would appreciate it if you could offer your time and taste buds in exchange for my aid.”
“Oh. Wait, really? You’re serious?” You narrow your eyes. “Somehow I don’t believe that’s all you want…”
“Are you willing to offer more? If so, I’d gladly like a mindless scapegoat who will do anything and everything I ask without question, a personal assistant who excels in mathematics for calculating the lounge’s monetary affairs, and a—”
“Yeah, I think I’ll stick with being your taste-tester. Those other occupations don’t sound very fun.”
“Then if we’re both in agreement, shall we shake on it?” He extends a gloved hand. You peer at it, hesitant. “Well, how about it? I’ll be your Floyd if you’ll be my Shrimpy.”
“And you promise I’ll get hired?”
“I never said that. However, if you do manage to claw your way into the lounge, congratulations will be in order.” Gracefully, he removes his scarf and wraps it around your waist to draw you in closer. The slightest scent of brine clings to him, but beneath that there are notes of lavender and vanilla. A fragrance that could be Floyd’s if you deceive yourself. With a sly grin, he murmurs in Floyd’s voice, “Ya’d look damn fine in my uniform.”
For a moment, you stare at him, unblinkingly infatuated, before a smile sharpens on your lips. You twirl out of his grasp, taking his scarf with you. Closing your hand around his, you meet his tone-toned eyes and shake firmly.
“I’d look even better beneath you,” you tease, captivating with an addictive, amorous charm, and return his scarf to its rightful place upon his shoulders. “I look forward to working with you, Jade. In more ways than one.”
You swipe invisible dust particles from his blazer and take a step back to admire your handiwork. Before he can get another word in, you’re strutting down the tunnel hall, bathed in whimsical blues, and humming a fluttery tune. Jade gazes at the space you once occupied. He brings two fingers up to his neck to feel his pulse. It’s pounding beneath his touch, a rush of blood and endorphins. With a trembling inhalation, he holds his breath, lowers his arm, adjusts his scarf, and peers at his reflection in the glass. Exhaling slowly, he notices his cheeks are tinged pink.
“The figures for this month’s budget…” he mumbles, continuing on his way, his shoes clicking a steady rhythm upon the tiled floor. He’s calculating the numbers, but they hardly matter when his thoughts drift elsewhere. “The figures for…the budget.”
Gradually, color drains from his face until he’s pale as paper, stoic as stone, but his restless heart continues to run laps within his ribs.
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“So this is the kitchen,” you marvel, admiring the cramped space for a short moment before peering at your distorted reflection in a metal colander. “It’s smaller than I imagined.”
“The dorm kitchen is much larger. Keep in mind the Mostro Lounge is merely a sliver of space Azul acquired. It’s only natural that it’s smaller,” Jade explains, as if it’s riveting information you absolutely must know. He’s flipping through a thick cookbook and scanning each recipe. “You should familiarize yourself with the layout if you intend to work here.”
“I’ll do that when I get hired.”
“If you get hired.”
“When I get hired, asshole.”
He tuts. “One of the basic requirements for becoming a Mostro Lounge employee is that you must display a certain level of maturity and respect, both of which you seem to lack.”
With a scowl, you turn away from the array of hanging kitchen utensils. “I have plenty of both.”
“Is that so? I couldn’t tell.”
“Floyd doesn’t have either and you let him slide.”
“Well, of course. I would never police his habits, or lack thereof. Why should I risk relinquishing my front row seat for free entertainment just for the sake of peacekeeping?”
With a petulant eye-roll, you stalk towards the countertop and lean against it with your arms folded. Jade glances at you.
“So why’d you have me come here again? I wanna go back to Ramshackle and sleep.”
“If I recall, you wanted to practice your confession.”
“Here?” When he nods, you gasp. “No way! I can’t confess in a kitchen—of all places. That’s not romantic at all.”
Jade angles his body towards you. “Any place can be romantic enough if you make it so.”
“I’m not confessing in a kitchen, Jade.”
“Not even during the intimate hours of night?”
“Not a chance.”
“In that case, what are your preferences?”
Taking pause, you consider the many locations spread across Night Raven’s spacious campus. Floyd has always been so spontaneous, so it’s difficult to determine which places he might frequent. With a furrowed brow, you narrow your list to four key spots.
“The botanical garden, the locker room, the library, and Floyd’s room,” you admit, ticking each off on your fingers.
“A locker room doesn’t seem very romantically appealing. Ah, might this be a human’s ideal aesthetic?”
“Not exactly, but imagine how perfect it’d be if I caught him after one of his games and confessed! It would totally look like a scene from a movie, right?”
With a halfhearted, mostly distracted hum, he traces a finger down the length of the page and then draws away to procure the needed ingredients. You watch him, noting a bowl piled with mushrooms and a cutting board already situated near the cookbook. Jade flits about the kitchen with the grace of a ballerina, his long legs carrying him to and fro in the small space. By the time he’s returned to the island in the center, you’ve already read through the recipe.
“Mushroom brownies?”
“Precisely.” He smiles at you, his eyes bright under the dim kitchen lights. “The healthy kind.”
You peer at him and frown. “Healthy as in good-alternative-to-junk-food healthy or…”
“Your distrust stings. When have I ever strayed from a recipe? It doesn’t call for hallucinogenic or poisonous mushrooms, so I won’t add any.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He sets the items on the countertop. “Perhaps you’ll have to watch carefully then. My hand might just slip…”
“I’m supposed to practice a confession. I can’t do that when I’m dying!”
“And in compliance with our deal you’re required to share your opinions on my cooking, so fortunately for you I must keep you alive.” Jade tilts his head at you, beaming amiably, and pushes the bowl of mushrooms into your chest. “Now if you would be so kind, please wash these mushrooms for me.”
Your fingers curl around the bowl and, grabbing the colander from off its hook along the way, you drag yourself over to the sink. “Fine, fine. But please promise these won’t kill me or make me see and feel things.”
“You have my word.” His hand splays across his chest, a genuine gesture of honesty. At least you hope that’s what it is. “Those mushrooms are safe to consume. In fact, the Agaricus bisporus is known to be very low in calories and sugar. You’ll get lots of protein and vitamin D from them, which is why they’re often used in nutritional, plant-based dishes. Hence why they’re a key ingredient in this recipe.”
“Is that right?” You set the strainer down and empty the contents of the bowl into it.
“Indeed. I managed to find quite a few on my last hike and so I’ve been saving them for this very moment.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot you’re in the Mountain Lovers Club.”
There’s a brief silence and then Jade asks, “You were aware?”
“I found out from Floyd during that one time Vargas made us all go camping. He said you were pretty bummed about not being able to go, but you really didn’t miss much. I, on the other hand, did.” You twist the knob and cold water spills from the faucet, wetting the mushrooms and washing away soil and grime at once. “I heard Floyd and the others went up against Vargas. I would’ve loved to see it, but instead I was tied to a tree.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“It was such a lame way to spend my evening. I would give anything to watch Floyd in his mer form. Curse Vargas! It’s his fault I missed the fight!”
“Why not ask? I’m sure he’ll show you if you’re so desperate—ah, forgive me—curious to see.”
“Maybe.” You shake the colander to stir its contents and sigh, reminiscing the few times you’ve witnessed Floyd in his element. “He’s really handsome…”
“So you’ve said.”
“I wish he’d talk to me more.”
“So you’ve griped.”
You whirl to pin him with a hateful scowl. “You’re not helping.”
Jade giggles. “Aw. Is Shrimpy sad I’m not givin’ her enough attention?”
You open your mouth to snap at him—not funny, asshole—and immediately close it. Lowering your gaze to the mushrooms, you grip the handles of the colander more tightly.
“Yeah,” you mumble instead, shaking off any form of shame that attempts to crawl its way up your spine. “Yeah, I’m sad. Really sad! I want to have a genuine conversation with you, but I can never get past feeling so…amazed. Like… Like everything that leaves my mouth—I feel like it’ll sound stupid and then you’ll think I’m weird or boring. I just… I’ve always liked you, but I can never put it into eloquent terms and so instead all I can do is admire you from afar and hope you’ll come talk to me.”
Exhausted from your word vomit, you wilt against the sink. And then, before you can think to turn around, a pair of hands rest upon your waist and you turn to find Floyd pressing himself against you. He smiles and runs his hands up the length of your hips, mapping your body’s shape with delicate strokes.
“No need to be so tongue-tied,” he says, resting his chin upon your shoulder. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, wispy and tantalizing. Instinctively, you shudder, pushing back against him, your eyes darting from the hands that cage you in on either side to his face, so close you could practically yank him by the collar and kiss him. “I don’t need fancy words. Just be yourself and talk to me. S’not so hard, yeah?”
“But it is!” you insist with a whine. “It is when I… When you… When… Ugh! It’s impossible!”
“But you’re talkin’ to me just fine. What’s so different?”
“Because… Because you’re just like Floyd and this confession sucks!”
Like a spell that’s been broken, the sensual tension dissipates before it can reach its peak and you find yourself standing rigidly straight between Jade’s arms, the silence only shattered by the rushing water. He blinks, momentarily stunned, before clearing his throat.
“My apologies. I assumed this method would help resolve some of your reservations regarding Floyd.”
You tear your eyes away from him, settling on the floor tiles beneath your feet. “It helped too much. It felt so…real.” With an embarrassed groan, you reach to turn off the faucet just as Jade does, and his hand covers yours like a blanket. You manage a sheepish half-smile. “Sorry for being a mess.”
His features soften considerably. “Let’s split the blame evenly and be a mess together. How does that sound?”
You snort. “That definitely makes the shame tolerable.”
With his hand still on yours, the two of you twist the handle and the flowing water ceases. He seems to remember you’re still holding the colander, for he nods towards it and then withdraws.
“The mushrooms look clean enough. Let’s take a break and bake the brownies. After that, we’ll try a new approach.”
“That sounds good!” Confidence partially restored, you empty the mushrooms into the bowl and skip over to him. “Do you usually forage for ingredients by yourself? Doesn’t anyone want to go with you?”
“Well, Azul doesn’t share the same enthusiasm for my hobbies, and Floyd doesn’t fancy mushrooms.”
“I meant someone aside from those two.”
“Then no. I’m afraid I’m all alone on my excursions.”
You poke at a bulbous button mushroom. “Why’s that?” And then you hastily add, “Never mind. You’re you, so of course no one wants to go.”
Jade gathers a handful of mushrooms, sets them down on the cutting board, and gently pats them down with a paper towel. “I don’t mind solitude. In fact, it’s quite comfortable.”
You pass him a knife. “I’ll join you on your next club thing.”
He stares at you, astonished. “Will you now?”
“Yes, I will! I want to collect cool-looking rocks.”
“Cool-looking rocks…” he repeats and slowly runs the knife through the mushroom held between his fingertips. “You want to accompany me on a hike for the purpose of finding…cool-looking rocks?” 
“You’re correct. Or am I going to interrupt your comfortable alone time?”
“For a reason as wonderful as the one you’ve proposed, I’d say you’re more than welcome to interrupt.”
“Hell yeah!” You bump your hip against his, giggling. “Rock hunting with Jade! I can’t wait!”
He peers at your waist for an abnormally long time before asking, “I assume you want to find rocks for Floyd?”
“Mhm! He gave me a pretty stone once and I’ve displayed it on the mantel ever since. I pat it every morning before leaving for class.”
“How routinely predictable of you.”
“Why, thank you.” You procure a knife for yourself and, setting a handful of mushrooms on the board, mimic Jade’s precise actions. “It’s been my good luck charm ever since.”
“If I may pry, why did you take a liking to my brother?”
“If I’m allowed to interrupt, then you’re allowed to pry. For now. As for why I like Floyd… I guess it started shortly after we first met. I thought he was scary at first—and he was—but he’s really sweet once you get to know him. And there’s something so…Floyd about him.” You gaze at Jade. “You know?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t. Please enlighten me.”
He slides the rest of his mushrooms towards you and busies himself with opening a package of medjool dates. While considering your response, you watch him pit each one before setting them aside to be diced. Eventually, you decide on a solid answer.
“Well, he’s always himself. He doesn’t care what others think. He’s energetic and playful. He’s annoying in the best ways, and he’s really smart when he applies himself!”
“So far you’ve only listed adjectives. I fail to see how any of that explains your feelings.”
“That’s just it! It’s difficult to put it into words. I like Floyd because he’s Floyd. Because he’s entirely himself without any restraint. Because he’s lovable and funny without trying to be. Because he’s always nice to the ones he cares for. Because he’s genuinely, honestly, unapologetically Floyd.”
Jade’s hand slows and with it the knife comes to a halt. His knuckles whiten around the handle. “Well.” He shuts his mouth, stares at the oven as it preheats, and fixes his lips into a thin smile. “Those are certainly heartfelt sentiments. I’m sure Floyd would appreciate them if you told him.”
“But I can’t! I have to prepare myself for the inevitable rejection and I’m just not ready yet. Not to mention, I can hardly hold a conversation with him without sounding awkward! It’s impossible, Jade. He makes me feel stupid.”
“Stupid in love.”
You shove him lightly. “Hush.”
“Perhaps…” He reaches for your free hand, fingers twining with yours. “You needn’t speak at all.”
“What’re you getting at?”
“Body language is a very important facet of moray courtship. I could teach you. Alas, if you’d prefer to do this the human way…”
“Moray courtship?”
“You aren’t aware? It’s rather fascinating to land-dwellers.”
“What is it? Is it like a kiss on the cheek and then you’re married? If that’s the case, all I need to do is kiss Floyd and—”
“Not quite. It’s much more complicated than that. Although I suppose a kiss is just as meaningful on land as it is in the sea.” Jade’s leaning in now, his face centimeters from yours. “Well? Why not tell me all the things you wish to express to Floyd in a single kiss?”
“But…” You turn your face away from him. “I can’t. I’m saving my first kiss for Floyd.”
There’s a stifling silence that fills the space between you and Jade. For a minute, you think he might break your wrist, what with how tight his grip has become, but then it loosens. He runs a hand through his hair to tousle it in a way that’s reminiscent of Floyd’s disheveled style. When you look at him again, he’s Floyd.
He’s not. You know he’s not. You tell yourself he’s not. But tonight he’s temporarily Floyd, and that lie patches an empty hole in your heart.
“Hmm? Savin’ a single smooch for me? Shrimpy’s too nice. I gotta pay ya back for bein’ so cute.”
“Jade—”
“S’not fair to say another guy’s name when I’m here. Ya want me to squeeze ya out? Well, do ya?”
Stop pretending! you think, torn between what you want to do and what you shouldn’t do. But if I practice on him… No. No, I can’t do that to Jade. It won’t mean anything and first kisses are supposed to be special. But he’s right here in front of me, and he sounds and looks just like Floyd. Damn it! Maybe it doesn’t have to count as my first kiss. Just one kiss. Just so I know what I’m working with. That’s all there is to it. A new approach—like what Jade said. Kissing instead of talking. I can do that.
You swallow every logical inhibition, each one burning your throat like fiery whiskey, and set the knife beside the chopped mushrooms. You admire his toothy grin, ignoring the strand of hair that falls in the wrong place, and tug him towards you by both ends of his scarf. His breath ghosts over your lips, and suddenly your entire throat feels dry and your palms are clammy with sweat.
It’s just one kiss.
Your mouth fits awkwardly on his at first, hesitant like you’re attempting to force the wrong pair of puzzle pieces together, and you fumble for a place to put your hands after he’s gathered you in his arms. With your eyelids fluttering shut, you attempt to lose yourself in the moment, in the sounds of your frantic heartbeat as he tilts your head, gently molding your lips to his, and eventually everything clicks into place. You lace your arms around his neck, the stiffness in your shoulders slackening, and part your lips to offer more of yourself to him. Floyd’s a brilliant kisser, all rough edges smoothed out in a kiss that’s so short you greedily pursue him for more.
“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, stroking along your jaw. And you comply, desperate to please, to be all that he ever sees. He laughs, breathlessly alive with energy, and sandwiches your face between large, smooth palms. His thumbs hook into your mouth, prodding playfully at your tongue. “Not too wide, Shrimpy. Else you’ll send a totally different message…”
You’re adrift in his arms, heart aflutter with adoration, brain fuzzy with cotton fluff and static, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling like a fool when you pull away. “Your lips are soft…”
He giggles and runs his index over your plush lips. “Shrimpy’s softer. Sweeter, too.”
“I hope…” You wipe saliva from your mouth, looking everywhere but at him. Your nerves are buzzing with adrenaline. I kissed Floyd. I kissed Floyd. We just kissed. “I hope kissing conveyed my feelings for you.”
“Mm, hard to say. Ya gotta do somethin’ more than once, otherwise it’s never gonna stick.”
“Wait. What do you mean by—”
He’s leaning in again, his lips brushing yours, and this time you’re clinging to him, so ready and willing to have your breath stolen yet again. Unfortunately, before the kiss can deepen any more than before, the oven beeps, shattering the fantasy that’s been building over time. You tear yourself away from Floyd, panting from both the exhilaration and the embarrassment, and gaze at the oven.
“Oh… The oven… Right. Yeah. Brownies.” Flustered, you pat his rumpled uniform—just how hard were you gripping his clothes?—and take a measured step away from him. “We’re baking brownies.”
Floyd—no, Jade watches you skim through the recipe. He presses two fingers to his mouth and traces his bottom lip. In the heat of your inexperience, you nipped at that very spot, your blunt teeth almost clicking against his razored ones. He returned the favor, nibbling your lip between his pearly points, led on by the welcoming warmth of your body pinned to his. Though he didn’t break skin, the thought that he could’ve—that he could’ve tilted your head back, bitten your lips bloody, and savored slick iron—is a delicious temptation.
A faint heartbeat thrums beneath the pads of his fingers, nestled deep within the flesh of his lips. His chest is tightly wound, not yet close to bursting, and when he inhales it’s thorned wire—painfully unpleasant.
He kissed you.
“Okay… Okay. Mushrooms finely chopped. Done. Now… Next—uh. Combine the minced dates and mushrooms. Easy enough. I’ll…put them in a bowl.”
Surfacing from the enchanting trance of the past few minutes, you and Jade soon begin to work in tandem, wordlessly following the recipe step by step. Unlike previous times, this silence isn’t nearly as overwhelming. You’re certain it’s only because the both of you are so focused on baking, too distracted to confront the matter at hand, but a deeper part of you says otherwise. And you’ll never confirm this unless you take a hammer to the ice barricade that has erected itself between you and him.
Sighing, you place a tray now filled with brownie batter in the oven, shut the door, and set the timer. Jade’s stare bores into your back every step of the way—as it has been for the past fifteen minutes you’ve refused to meet his gaze. Now you turn around, and immediately your face begins to warm.
“A-About everything that happened…” you start, watching him as he works to clean the countertop. It’s now or never—say it before you lose your nerve and shame devours you in one ruthless bite. “Maybe it’s asking too much, but can you teach me more about moray courtship?”
His posture seems to become even more prim and proper upon hearing your request. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to—”
“But as Floyd! You have to teach me as Floyd.”
Jade’s hand, which had previously been wiping a layer of almond flour away with a rag, stills. He nods and resumes cleaning seconds later. “Of course. As per our agreement, I’m meant to be your Floyd. I wouldn’t teach you as anyone else.”
“Okay. All right. Cool.” You gather the dirty dishes and bring them to the sink, shaking off your apprehensions as you go. “If I know moray courtship, I’ll be able to craft a better confession. Or we could kiss and maybe he’ll understand what I’m trying to say.”
“In that case, you may want to improve your technique.”
“Shut up! My technique is… Actually, yeah, you’re right. It’s a mess. I suck at kissing.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that. You just need practice.” Jade meets you at the sink and offers you a washcloth. “I’d be more than happy to be your practice partner.”
You scowl at him, unimpressed with his friendly nonchalance. “You just want to see me fail when I try to kiss you.”
“That’s an added bonus.”
Rolling your eyes, you snatch the rag from him. “So how exactly is kissing part of moray courtship?”
“It’s not. Kissing is just a basic form of showing affection. All mers kiss, just like how all humans kiss. There isn’t much significance.”
You stare at him, your fingers curled into the sodden dishrag, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. Jade chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, and guides your mouth shut with his slender index.
“Now a mouth left agape… You’re dangerously bold, Shrimpy.”
“You… Y-You… You!” Acting purely on instinctive impulse, you cup water in your palms and toss it at him. He doesn’t do anything to dodge, allowing the water to soak through his uniform with a patient smile. “You’re the worst! I genuinely believed you!”
“Obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so willing to kiss me.”
“Not you!” You try to slap him and this time he smoothly side-steps your flailing arm. “Floyd, Jade! I want to kiss Floyd!” 
“And you will.” He shrugs his blazer off, folding it neatly, before adding slyly, “In your dreams.”
You round on him, intending to smack him silly, but he catches your wrist. Your face explodes with a newfound warmth and you rip your arm free, loathing his growing smirk with every passing second. Grumbling a slew of empty threats, you distract yourself with the dishes. Jade observes you as you clean a bowl, content to exist in silence once more. It’s a relief for you because you no longer have to battle his scintillating wit or entertain more annoying banter. But the longer you spend at the sink, meticulously scrubbing, the more you linger on the past few events.
You kissed him, and it wasn’t as terrible as you thought it’d be—likely because he was Floyd during that moment. Even the words that left his mouth were so undeniably Floyd, filled with a fondness only he’s capable of twining throughout his speech. And hearing that prized nickname Floyd reserves for you was more magical than any sort of delusion you might conjure in a dreamscape.
Despite the fact that the kiss had been the result of your inability to see through a simple trick, it did, embarrassingly enough, soothe your fear of rejection. If it’s Jade impersonating Floyd, you’ll never need to mourn whether or not your feelings will be reciprocated. And isn’t that just the perfect panacea to your situation?
If it’s Jade, you can immerse yourself in the romance you’ve always wanted with Floyd.
If it’s Jade, you’re allowed to be delusional and lovesick because it’s only a game.
That’s all it will be. A game. A dangerous game, but a game nonetheless. And in this game, both sides can win. You get love from Floyd, and in return Jade gets critique on his cooking. It’s a beautiful arrangement, so why should you spend time regretting and fretting over little details that will sour your fluffy fantasy?
“If you’re actually going to teach me moray courtship—real moray courtship—” you begin, choosing each individual word with the utmost care, “Floyd can’t know about this. It has to stay between us.”
Jade pantomimes locking his lips and tossing an invisible key. “It shall be our special secret.”
You stare at him, brows knitted in scrutiny.
Jade allows this to carry on for an extended moment before asking, “What reason would I have to disclose our private affairs to Floyd?”
“I dunno. Maybe sabotage my chances with him? Make him think I’m weird? Make him hate me?”
“All wonderful ideas, but I’m not that viciously vindictive.”
“You literally are.”
“I literally am not,” he mimics with a sharp smile.
You groan and set the final dish in the drying rack. Wringing excess water from the rag, you pretend it’s Jade. He’s lucky he has his brother’s face, or else you never would have considered agreeing to an arrangement as wildly detrimental as this.
“So why brownies?”
“Why not?”
“Fair.” Drying your hands on your shirt, you walk over to the island, where two stools have been positioned near it. You lower onto the one across from Jade and prop your elbows on the countertop. “You know, I never took you for a sweets guy. Or should I say a sweets eel?”
He chuckles, heterochromatic hues glittering in the amber light. “Confections are rather scarce under the sea, and since I’m here on land I might as well explore all manner of culinary delights.” He leans over the table, nearly conspiratorial, his head angled almost adorably. “Especially sweets.”
“No sweets in the Coral Sea, huh? Then what’d you eat in place of that?”
“Our diets usually consist of a variety of fish and crustaceans. However, at establishments like the one Azul’s mother manages, you can find all kinds of desserts. Sugar is considered a luxury where I’m from, hence why it’s so popular at undersea restaurants. And like most land products that aren’t compatible with water, it’s imported from the surface and stored with magic.”
“Oh, so it’s kinda like fish eggs. They’re a wealthy thing here on land. Except I don’t think fish eggs need to be stored with magic…”
“I suppose that’s one way of connecting the similarity. Sugar is plentiful on land, whereas it’s scarce in the sea. And there’s no shortage of eggs where I come from.”
“That makes sense.” Jade nods but refuses to elaborate further on the subject and so, rather clumsily, you attempt to segue into another topic. “Do you prefer life up here to life down there?”
“Well, I’m always going to be a moray. That fact will never change.”
“But if you had to choose land or sea, which one would it be?”
“If I had to choose between the two… Both are charming in their own ways, each with different appeals, and not every mer is granted the opportunity to live so freely on land.” He hums, considering. “If you were in my position, what would you pick?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “How artfully you dodge the question… But if I was picking, I guess I’d go wherever Floyd goes.”
“Oh?”
“If we’re married, I mean! Or in a relationship of some sort. I’d go wherever my partner’s going because anywhere will be wonderful with them by my side. We’d have fun together, see new things, and enjoy each other’s company. The place is just a plus. What matters most is that I’m with someone I care about and we’re making memories together.”
“How nice of you to confine yourself to such a romantic delusion.”
“Says the guy who avoided answering,” you snap, turning your chin up with a huff.
“Perhaps it’s avaricious, but if it’s acceptable I’d like to choose both the land and the sea.”
“Greedy. Greedy.” You tut at him.
His lips curve up with a sincerity you’ve never seen before. “One day I wish to show my beloved the wonders of the sea, and I hope she’ll be willing to share the beauty of the surface with me in return. But if she isn’t very partial to the cold, dark depths, we could live on the land before retiring to the sea as we near the end of our lives. My preferences needn’t be considered so long as she’s content.”
“Now who’s the delusional romantic?”
“Is sharing a life with the one you treasure most not a saccharine ideal?”
As if in agreement, the timer on the oven pings and Jade rises from his seat. You sit with his question, mulling it over like it’s the world’s most complex mathematical equation. But it only takes your brain seconds to arrive at a truthful answer.
Of course I want to share my life with the one I love. Preferably with Floyd…
But that presents another question: What sort of future would Floyd want? Perhaps he’s like Jade and wouldn’t care where he settles so long as he’s with his special someone, or maybe he has a sentimental attachment to the sea and would rather shed his human form and exist in the deep, spiraling blue. Maybe he’d make an exception for you and keep his feet planted on the ground. There are so many possibilities with him, and each one is more random than the last. The longer you dwell on it, the more uncertain you become. Jade’s viewpoint is so agreeable, but it isn’t Jade you want to spend an eternity with. His words are not Floyd’s, however much you wish they were, and you’ll never know what Floyd wants unless you ask and get it right from the source.
But you can’t because you fear surpassing the boundaries of the friendship you’ve worked so hard to maintain. If that crumbles all because you were too blinded by your heart’s desires, you’d never forgive yourself.
“Why is love so hard?” you bemoan just as Jade places the tray on a cork trivet. He slides the oven mittens from off his hands, sparing you a glance before leaving to pour two glasses of milk for the both of you. And then, after hanging the mittens where they belong, he selects a knife from the block and returns. While he scores the brownies into squares, you watch steamy strands curl up in a hypnotic dance. “Love should be sweet without any sadness. Like a brownie! It’s delicious and makes you happy when you eat it.”
“If that was the case, it would be much easier to digest when it isn’t reciprocated.”
“Right! If I’m able to experience a sweet heartbreak, I can move on quickly.” You avert your gaze. “I hope…”
Sighing, somewhat sympathetic, he slides a plate and glass towards you. “For now, why not start small?”
You take the fork he offers next and poke at the dessert. And then you snort, a wide, silly smile blossoming on your features. “You just want my critique.”
“Indeed. Minus the sob story, if possible.”
“Yeah, whatever.” You stab a sliver of the brownie and bring it to your lips. “Hey, wasn’t I supposed to be a taste-tester? Why’d I end up helping you bake?”
“The results of a team effort often taste more delicious, do they not?”
“We’ll see.” You chew slowly at first, expecting the rubbery earthiness of a mushroom. Instead, you find yourself indulging in the rich taste of chocolate. Humming your approval, you eat another bite. “It’s way better than I thought! To think mushrooms could make a dessert so yummy… No wonder why you like them so much. They’re very versatile.”
Jade’s shoulders seem to droop, as if he’s just been relieved of some terrible tension, and a smile flickers on his lips. “I’m pleased it’s to your liking.”
“Mhm!” You lick chocolate smears from the prongs of your fork. Jade tracks the movement of your tongue, but you don’t seem to notice as you work to polish off the brownie. “I’d say it’s a ten out of ten.”
“And so the judge has spoken,” he jests, sampling the brownie on his plate. He nods to himself. “I agree with your assessment. This dish is certainly worthy of praise.”
You sip from your glass next, eyeing him as he runs his fork through the brownie. “I’m not a food critic, so I don’t know what else to say other than it’s delicious and not overwhelmingly sugary. It’s a fun way to mix mushrooms and dessert. So… Uh, bravo? Go us?”
Jade hums around a mouthful. “Your honesty is much appreciated.”
“Should we save some for Floyd? I know mushrooms aren’t his thing, but he likes candy and we don’t have to tell him the ingredients.”
“So you’d rather lie.”
“Not lie. Just…skirt around the details. I think he’d enjoy them.”
“He’ll enjoy squeezing you once he learns you indirectly fed him mushrooms.”
You slap your hands on the countertop and jump up from your seat. Jade blinks at you, fork poised at his mouth. “Wait! I’ve got it! Maybe a kitchen confession is worth it. I could invite Floyd to cook with me and when we’re in the middle of everything I can confess. Then I won’t have to trouble him in the locker room—because chances are, if his team lost, he might be in a bad mood—and I won’t bother you either if I try confessing in his room—because you share a room. The botanical garden would be nice, but I have no idea when or if Floyd would ever visit. And the library… Oh! Maybe a study session? Or should I try tutoring him? But then I’m also not getting high scores and I don’t know how romantic studying is…”
A laugh that sounds more like a gasp yanks you from your hasty monologue, and your quizzical stare slices through him. He covers his mouth with his hand, his shoulders shaking, and you think you see tears spotting his lash line.
“Forgive me,” he says after he’s calmed down. (You won’t.) He dabs at the corners of his eyes with a napkin. “It was so pitifully amusing I couldn’t contain myself.”
Your glower is as fierce as the humiliation. “S-Shut up! You wouldn’t know anything about how it feels to be in love! I want the location and my confession to be perfect because that’s what Floyd deserves. Laugh all you want—I’m going to confess! E-Eventually…”
“You’ll get there one day. Until then, I look forward to witnessing this spectacle.”
“You’re seriously the worst.” Scoffing, you have enough decency to clear your area at the island before rounding on him, jabbing your finger at him in accusation. “And because of that I rescind my previous compliments! The brownie is a solid eight now.”
“Only an eight?”
“Seven. We can go lower.”
“We certainly can.”
The look he gives you is nothing short of lascivious, and your heart leaps up into your throat. Jade steeples his hands like he’s about to brief you on some confidential mission while his eyes rove your body from top to bottom. Even though you’re fully clothed, you feel vulnerable and bare standing before him.
“We certainly won’t,” you retort, clipped and curt. To give your hands something to do, you check the time on your phone. “It’s late. I should get back to my dorm.”
Jade smirks at your not-so-subtle escape attempt. He gestures to the brownies. “Why not take some for yourself? It wouldn’t be very fair if I kept all of the spoils after you put in the time and effort to help.”
“I don’t want any.”
“Would you take some if I was Floyd?”
“Yeah, obviously. Taking anything from you feels like a trap just waiting to be sprung.”
“How cruel. I mean well this time.”
You’re already walking towards the door. “You keep it. It’s your food anyway. I’m only supposed to try it and judge.”
Jade stands from his seat to meet you at the doorway. You turn to view him. He’s holding the tray like it’s a consolation cake. “Won’t you take a sliver? You can have it for breakfast tomorrow morning. Doesn’t that sound marvelous? A delicious brownie with some milk—the only way to start your day, no?”
“Jade.” Your voice takes on a sultry purr, and you bat your eyelashes at him. His entire body seems to perk up at this, and for a moment he reminds you of Floyd with his tightly wound mannerisms, each one unfurling like a sporadic spool of thread when he’s interested in something. If there were stars in his eyes, you’re certain his gaze would hold an entire galaxy with how they sparkle hopefully. “If I take a slice, will you stop being so pushy?”
A Cheshire smile curls upon his lips. “That’s all you needed to say.”
To spite you—or sweeten your sour attitude—Jade sends you home with the entire tray.
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The botanical garden is bursting with vibrant life, housing plants of all species, each flourishing within the sticky humidity that blankets the expansive space. You undo a button on your blouse, desperate to abandon your layers in hopes of cooling off. There’s a book in your hands, opened to a page with scientific names and facts of specific flowers. The one you’re currently searching for is a heliotrope. According to this helpful guide, it’s a beautiful bloom meaning eternal love.
It’s the perfect gift to pair with your work-in-progress confession. And, to make it even more symbolic, it’s purple! If that doesn’t scream Octavinelle, what will?
Now if only you could find this flower. It feels like you’ve already seen every available area in your tireless hunt and still haven’t come across the prized heliotrope. But you’d asked Professor Crewel earlier today and he’d confirmed such a flower exists within the gardens, so you refuse to leave without one.
I’m not looking hard enough, you conclude, fanning yourself. This is for Floyd. I can’t give up.
“Ugh. But why can’t Floyd appreciate flowers like Jade?” you grouse, flipping through the book as you walk, admiring other blossoms under the same letter category. “I love him, but he’ll never understand the significance. Is it even worth it to go through all of this trouble? What am I saying? Of course it’s worth it! It’s for Floyd! Who cares if he’s not interested in flowers like Jade? He can still appreciate the sentiment.”
You turn the corner and look up from the paragraphs of text. At the very end of the pathway, hunched over a metal bench and tending to what looks to be a chunk of driftwood, Jade stands in his lab coat. You stop yourself so fast that your shoes screech against the concrete path and you almost trip. Jade glances in your direction just as you leap out of sight, now hidden behind a tall trellis of thick, twisting greenery.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear…
Quietly, you shut the book and eye your various escape paths. On all sides, plants line the walkways, some growing taller than you. Surely it’s possible to leave without stirring up unwanted trouble. Before you can think to move from your current hiding spot, Jade’s silky voice permeates the air.
“Romantic Blooms: A Guide on the Language of Flowers,” he reads, peering over your shoulder at the textbook’s title.
You don’t flinch, having expected he’d come to investigate. Though knowing him, he probably suspected it was you the moment you entered his peripheral.
“Jade.”
“(Name).” He smiles, ignoring the frigid way you address him. “What a lovely coincidence running into you.”
“I was just leaving.”
“Oh, is that so? I was going to ask if you needed anything, but since you seem to be in such a hurry I won’t keep you any longer.”
It’s not worth it.
It’s not worth it.
It’s…really worth it.
“Actually… Would you, by any chance, know where I could find a heliotrope?”
“Is there a particular reason you’re in need of one?”
“It’s for Floyd.”
“For me?” he mocks, tone high and nasally, while he leans in close.
“Yes, for you.” You poke his chest, pushing him away from you. His smile widens. “Heliotropes mean your love will last forever.”
“Aw. Shrimpy wants forever love with me. Ain’t that adorable!”
“Do you…want that with me?”
“Course I do. You don’t need some silly flower to prove it, y’know. ’Sides, flowers aren’t eternal. It’s gonna wilt eventually. What kinda flower can’t last as long as the thing it symbolizes?” Floyd grasps your chin, tilts your head towards him, and captures your lips in a chaste kiss. When he pulls away, you’re still processing it. “Morays aren’t the monogamous type. Some are. Like my Mama and Pops.”
“O-Oh. Is that… Does that mean…” He kissed me. Again. Floyd kissed me. “W-What about you?”
Floyd peers at you, smirking mischievously, and within seconds he’s plucked the book from out of your hands. “Take a guess.” He slinks away before you can settle on one, laughing as he goes. “S’not a hard one!”
By the time he’s turned the corner, obscured by the foliage, it occurs to you he’s taken your book. Gasping, you hurry after him, not at all offended with his thievery. Rather, when you spot him on the other side of a row of vegetable plants and he challenges you with his typical come-and-get-me look, your heart fattens with adoration, on the verge of imploding like a grand star in a dusky outer space.
It plays out much like a fantastical dream, only this time the distance isn’t as harrowing, and you manage to catch up to him after he takes you all around the botanical garden, giggling the entire way. If you were sweating before, you’re drenched now, but it’s worth it to capture him in an embrace. The hug is short-lived, for you pull away in hopes of cooling down and catching your breath. While you do that, Floyd fumbles with something. He’s cutting a cluster of blossoms with pruning shears.
He offers the flower with his trademark theatrics. “Ta-da! One heliotrope for Shrimpy.”
Gathering yourself, you admire the flower held between his fingers, resisting the urge to cheer. “It’s very pretty. Thank you.”
“Not as pretty as Shrimpy.” Gingerly, he tucks it behind your ear. “Anyone ever tell ya your eyes get reeeal big when you’re happy?”
“Oh. Um. N-No…”
He leans down to your height, beaming sincerely. “Now ya know.”
“Yeah…” Delicately, you run your fingertips over the violet cutting, your whisper swelling with joy. “Now I know.”
Floyd watches you pet it, abnormally still. You’re so used to seeing him fidget when he’s forced to linger in place, a creature unable to restrain his energy for even a moment, that it’s almost uncanny when he stands straight as a board. A large hand, encased in a gardener’s glove, reaches for you and you don’t have the foresight to meet him halfway. Instead, he awkwardly pats your shoulder, seemingly unsure of where to place his hand after it started moving towards you.
“If we were together, I’d give you more than a flower.”
For a minute you think you hear Jade’s deeper intonation slip through. His hand slides down the length of your arm, and his fingers interlace with yours. His stare, filled with forlorn longing, pins you in place. His hands fit seamlessly in yours, as if they were intended to all along. Rather hastily, you slide the gloves off to rid him of his fabric barrier. Smooth, soft digits entwine with yours next. Floyd shuffles closer, caging you between himself and a metal workbench.
“You don’t have to! A flower’s more than enough for me.”
“No, it ain’t. You deserve so much more.”
“Then…” Your breath hitches when he slots his knee between your legs. Nimble fingers slide under your blouse, palming at your stomach. “What would you give me?”
“Everythin’. Whatever ya want. I’d never let ya be sad or lonely again.” He noses your collarbone, sighing moonily. “I’d give you an entire garden of heliotropes if it means you’ll never look at anyone else ever again.” As if realizing something, he sighs, clears his throat, and adds, “I want ya so fuckin’ bad, Shrimpy. I just want you to be happy.”
You reach to pat his head, and he seems to preen at your touch. “I… I feel the same. I…”
I love you.
Floyd’s fingers dance beneath your clothes, mapping every inch of skin as if he’s trying to commit it to memory. He’s slowly rutting against you, his breath hot in your ears. Perhaps it’s the humidity, but you feel dizzy in his embrace, lost in a lustful haze.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he confesses, roughly tugging your bra down until your breasts spill free. He cradles them in strong hands. “Always thought about it when I saw ya sittin’ pretty in class.”
You blink. It’s not a dream. He’s touching you. You blink again for good measure. It’s still not a dream.
“Do what?” A dumb question. You know what he means, but you wish to hear it right from his mouth.
“Kissin’ and touchin’. Ya have no idea how many times I wanted to pull ya into an empty classroom and just…” His teeth graze your pulse, tasting the stuttering beat beneath. “Make a mess of ya.”
“What… What was stopping you?”
“Didn’t think you’d feel the same,” he mumbles, nipping at your throat. When he speaks next, it’s in an octave lower, and he’s lost Floyd’s whimsical vocality. “So I would content myself with observing you in secret. You never noticed I was there, but I saw you. Every single day at every hour, studying tirelessly in the library or sharing a meal with your friends at the cafeteria…” He twists your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, prompting a shuddering gasp from you. “You’re captivating when you exist in oblivion.”
That…doesn’t sound like something Floyd would say.
“Floyd, wait…”
He pulls away to look at you and his pupils are blown impossibly wide, almost as if he’s high off the scent of you, the warmth of your skin under his palms as they wander lower, and the daring thrill of exhibitionism. He seems to snap out of his trance moments later when he offers you a toothy grin. You chew your lip, uncertain.
What was that all about? Looking pretty when I’m oblivious? Watching me in secret?
“All good?” His fingers curl into the waistband of your uniform pants, and for a moment you wish you were wearing a skirt so he’d have easier access.
Feebly, you nod, your every nerve alight with an insatiable yearning. “I’m okay.”
Maybe I misunderstood him. Maybe this is how Floyd flirts.
“Promise?” One hand massages your hip, enticing you to agree.
You pull him in so that your bodies can connect. He hums at the contact, whether in pleasure or approval you can’t tell. “I promise,” you whisper, abandoning logic to breathe him in like he’s the worst kind of addiction. A fatal temptation, but it’s impossible to stop when you’ve come this far.
Floyd giggles and resumes his fondling, closing his hands around your breasts. You whine your grief, mourning the loss of his lingering touch on your waist. Although a deeper part of you is relieved he didn’t stray further in his exploration. Had he done so, you wouldn’t have had the sensible conscience to stop him. You almost direct his touch downwards, but instead your hands grab at his face to drag him up and away from your neck. He fills in what’s left of the space between the both of you, capturing your lips in a searing smooch. This time, rather than flailing about foolishly, you hold him still, savoring the sloppy exchange of breath and saliva. He licks into your mouth, chasing your tongue, and though it isn’t a competition you let him overpower you.
Victory hangs in the air, but you’re not sure which of you has won.
It’s everything you could have ever coveted from Floyd: a saccharine, movie-esque moment in the middle of a flowering garden. For this singular moment, he’s all yours. Your star only has eyes for you and he’s all over you, unable to keep his hands to himself as he ruts his hips in time with yours, panting against your mouth as if you’re the only oxygen source to be found at the bottom of the sea. His touch is firm and gentle all at once, hungrily impatient, and when he kisses you it’s as if he does so with the intention that this may be the last chance he’ll ever have.
Without much forethought, you fumble with the buttons on your blouse, undoing two more so that he may slide it from your shoulders to reveal the oh-so-inviting bareness of your neck.
You catch his face in your hands, eyes narrowed with an unspoken threat. Mind where you bite.
He reads you loud and clear, for he flashes his teeth at you and places one of his hands over yours, his entire body rumbling with laughter. “Why not?”
“Because,” you hiss, shaking your head.
“Then I won’t bite.”
“But…”
“If ya don’t want it, don’t ask for it.”
“Floyd—” His lips brush against your skin and you shiver. “Please…” 
“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ Rather than bite marks, open-mouthed kisses pepper your skin. “Next time.”
You intend to object, to plead that you want nothing more than to be bloodied with bites, but he’s drawing all sorts of sinful sounds from the depths of your throat and it’s impossible to voice your disappointment when pleasure’s quickly taking over. You grab his chin and smash your mouth against his instead, determined to out-kiss him—if such a thing is even possible. Floyd giggles, invigorated with the challenge you’ve initiated, and angles his head to kiss you more deeply.
It makes up for the lack of bites, you tell yourself, and the outlandish assurance soothes you. With the way he’s breathing into you as if you’re his lifeline, a buoy floating on rocky waves, he’s shamelessly unslakable. But then so are you when you nip at his tongue, taking it in your mouth until your chest is begging for reprieve, unable to compete with the lung capacity of merman. His hands are still roaming and you mirror his actions, clumsily unbuttoning his lab coat and pulling it from his person. Floyd would never dress so neatly, every button buttoned and tie tied expertly, but you ignore this detail in favor of receiving another starved kiss from him.
Your hands drift lower until they’ve settled over the strain in his pants. Momentarily, you hesitate, your heart collapsing into your stomach.
This is real. He’s actually… Because of this, Floyd is… You swallow thickly and palm it carefully. Floyd groans low in your ear. He bucks against your hand to force friction.
“You’re so cute,” you murmur, tracing the outline with your fingertip, wickedly cruel in your tentative, experimental petting. “All of that from a little—” you put on his voice next, a poor mimic— “kissin’ and touchin,’ huh?”
“S’not nice when you…tempt—ah, tease me…” He shakes his head, stumbling over Floyd’s trademark drawl. He buries his face in your shoulder, gasping when you apply just a little more pressure. “Shrimpy’s so meeean, makin’ me wait for it.”
You giggle and run your fingers through the sturgeon scales hanging from his ear. The disturbance has them clicking against one another. His earring’s in the wrong place, but for today it’s right. So right.
Your lips part in a frenetic smile. Oh, how you adore him.
“Sorry, sorry. I won’t be mean.”
Led onwards by lustful impatience, you reach between your bodies to undo the zip on his trousers. Floyd sighs again, as if your touch is the greatest relief, when you squeeze him through the fabric of his boxers. You’ve always theorized how big he might be, but now that you’re finally approximating his length you’re wondering how you’ll ever fit all of him. The delicious fantasy of a filthy struggle—of trembling around him as he eases himself inside, filling you up thick inch by thick inch—renders your temperature volcanic.
“About moray—” You inhale sharply when he rolls his hips, and the last of your restraint rots away. With your tongue tucked between your teeth, you concentrate on massaging the bulge between his legs with newly restored confidence. “Moray courtship…”
“Mm, yeah… What about it?” His voice quivers against your mouth, wet and wanton.
“What’s it like?”
“Ah. Well… Hah…” He slows his fervent humping and presses his forehead to yours to look you in the eyes. “I’d bring ya lotsa stuff. Food and shiny treasures and—haa… And I’d pretty up the cave. Protect ya from predators. Keep ya comfy and content.”
You imagine Floyd dutifully prowling the perimeter of your shared living space, all taut, lean muscle, senses on high alert, while you remain swathed in soothing shadows. The fantasy is so vivid in your mind that you almost reach out, fingers chasing the distant delusion of a Floyd who loves you more than he’s ever loved anyone. Instead, you grasp the phony. His hands are on your waist, steadying you, and you embrace him like he’s the lover you’ll never have.
“And you’d never leave me?”
“Never. Not once. Not ever.” The promise is made between kisses, each more pleasurable than the last. It sets your entire body aflame with an intoxicating exultation. Tears prick your eyes. “I’ll stay with ya forever, Shrimpy.”
“But what if someone else—”
He places a finger to your lips, silencing what’s left of your doubt. “I don’t want someone else. You’re all I’ll ever want, so there’s no need to worry about things that will never come to pass.” A smile adorns his features next and he slides his finger down your lips to trace your jawline. You sigh at his touch. It’s everything and nothing. Too much and too little. Everlasting and fleeting. “You’re always gonna be my Shrimpy, ya got that? No one else can have ya. Promise me.”
Your face aches from smiling so much, but this time you can’t help it. Those words, coupled with his actions, renew your once-dampened, self-conscious spirit. You drink him in, doing away with hesitation.
“I promise, Floyd. I’m all yours.”
There’s a spark of something sad in his eyes then, but it passes like a short sunshower, swallowed up in a sea of salacity. You fail to take note of it when you’re so busy stroking him through his boxers, imprisoned by the magnetic force of attraction that’s settled between the both of you. He hums his appreciation, sliding his hands up the expanse of your stomach to squeeze your chest. You can’t seem to keep yourself off of him for more than a minute, pulling him into you for more of everything. More friction. More kisses. More connection.
More. More. More.
The steamy press of his mouth to yours is prurient, teeth clicking against teeth and warring tongues, but it’s so addictive. You wish to remain like this forever, savoring kisses and exchanging tender touches. Everything about this version of Floyd matches the one you’ve spent countless nights picturing. You feel enshrouded in cotton when he grinds helplessly into your hand to chase a mounting climax. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to experience—a physical culmination of real, raw love.
Floyd’s pace is frenzied now, and he’s chanting how good you feel like it’s the gospel. He’s close; you can sense it, see it, hear it in the way he gasps and groans. His fingers dig into your sides, just beneath your ribs, to keep himself anchored as he rests his head on your shoulder. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting slightly to reveal the pointed beginnings of his razored teeth, and with just a few more touches and gyrations he shudders through his orgasm.
He’s almost boneless in your arms when he resurfaces, lips pursed in a tight line. His face is flushed scarlet, a rare vibrancy you’ve never seen on the face of Jade Leech.
That’s right. It’s Jade you did all of that with. Jade. Not Floyd. Jade.
But it felt like Floyd.
“You good?” You offer him a warm smile when his eyes flutter open.
He leans into you and then slowly retracts himself. “Ah. Yes… Yes, I’m all right now. Forgive me for getting so carried away.”
You follow the direction he’s looking at to your hand, which is still pressed to his boxers and is sticky with his spend as it seeps through the fabric. Embarrassment trickles down your spine.
“O-Oh! Sorry. I… Um, let me just…” Eyes darting elsewhere, you yank your hand away, intending to wipe it on your pant leg. Your attempt at a carefree chuckle sticks in your throat when he grasps it instead. “Uh, Jade?”
He holds your gaze with startling intensity. For the few moments that pass between both of you, you assume he’s still playing Floyd, but there’s something about his mannerisms that tells you otherwise. He’s distrait, distant, dazed—whatever you choose to call it—and he’s studying you as if you’ve just hung the stars in his sky.
What’s he looking at? Is there something on my face?
“I never understood why Floyd calls you Little Shrimpy,” he whispers, curling his fingers around yours. “You’re more than a tiny, trifling shrimp. To me, you are the moon—hypnotically radiant, a pretty pearl in a pitch-black sea—capable of influencing the very ocean I reside in. And like an enchanted tide heeding the moon’s call—like a fisherman mesmerized by a siren’s lullaby—I’m drawn in by your beauty and brilliance.” He leans close, breath fanning across your lips. “I exist to revolve around you. To drown in you. Forever.”
You stare at him.
It’s all you can do. Stare and pretend you aren’t stunned by this revelation—like it didn’t just sap all of the oxygen from the air. What is he talking about? You’d expect something like this from Rook, who’s known to wax poetry as easily as he breathes. But Jade? Sure, he’s eloquent, but even he wouldn’t say something so…
What’s the right word to describe it? It’s not cheesy; you don’t think so, at least. It’s not heartwarming either. You feel like he might wheedle you into a scheme if you’re readily receptive to his flowery adulation. It’s nice to be compared to the moon, though. But then the moon is forever out of reach, unobtainable for a merman like Jade, who can only ever observe from the sea. It’s a love birthed from the yearning of a gap that can never and will never be closed.
You’re thankful it’s hot in here, otherwise your embarrassment would have been explosively obvious.
“Jade, do you like—”
“Jaaade, you there?”
Upon hearing the real Floyd, the tendrils of the fantasy you once entangled yourself in snap. And amidst the fragments, a dozen anxieties come rushing forth. Hastily, you push Jade away and shove his rumpled lab coat at him. Fear-laced adrenaline has you struggling with the buttons on your blouse. He doesn’t seem nearly as panicked as you currently are, merely hugging his coat to his chest and watching you, smitten beyond sanity.
“Hide!” you hiss, smoothing the wrinkles in your shirt and then cursing when you realize you’ve missed a button. There’s no time to fix it. “Hurry! Before he finds out—”
“Before who finds out?” Floyd whips around the corner just as Jade vanishes from sight. You miss the way he grips his magic pen in a tight fist, pupils blown with a crazed sort of excitement. You’re equal parts relieved and grateful for his swift reflexes, but you’re more grateful for Floyd’s interruption. You weren’t interested in knowing the answer to your half-spoken inquiry. “Ah! It’s Shrimpy! Whatcha doin’ talkin’ to yourself?”
“F-Floyd, hey! Hi! I… I’m just looking around for…flowers.” You smile, full set of teeth on display despite your disheveled and mildly panicked appearance.
Did he hear us? Did he see us? Please tell me he didn’t. Please. Please. Please.
Floyd’s eyes rove over your too-tense form. He leans in close, and you jerk away with a nervous chuckle. His nose wrinkles, and then a curious smile pulls at his lips. You’re certain that can’t be good.
“What… What’s up?”
“Ya smell like Jade.” He’s gazing at your ear now and it dawns on you that the heliotrope is still snugly tucked there. “Didja see him?”
“What? No!” The look he gives you next is so skeptical you almost kick yourself. “I mean, not today I haven’t…” Swallowing another uncomfortable laugh, you remove the flower from its current resting place and crush it in a tight fist. The limp petals flutter to the ground when you release them from your hold. “Maybe it’s my perfume! I… I bought a new one, so I’ve been wearing it a lot lately.”
“Mhm… Perfume,” he muses, grinning up to his ears, his thumbs hooked casually in his pockets.
You’re a bad liar, you scold yourself, ashamed.
“Anyway, why’re you looking for Jade? I can pass on a message if I happen to run into him.”
“Could ya? Thanks, Shrimpy,” he says, pulling away to give you space. “Azul’s been on my tail about him all day. Super annoyin’ with it. Says he needs Jade at the lounge cuz it’s busy or somethin’.”
You intend to say, “So why not go in his place?” but then you realize something unusual.
“Hold on. Is Jade skipping work?”
Floyd shrugs. “Dunno. Jade never skips anythin’ important. He’s got a schedule he follows, y’know? Real diligent.”
“And I’m assuming the lounge is a big part of that schedule?”
“Prolly.”
Then why was he here in the gardens? Did he lose track of time? It’s an impossible thought; you fail to trick yourself into believing it. No, Jade would never.
“Oh. O-Okay…” You fidget in place while Floyd continues to look at you. He rocks back and forth on his heels, seemingly waiting for you to speak up. A minute stretches between the both of you. “Um… Is that it?”
He gazes past you then, at the spot where you’re certain Jade’s standing. “Yep. S’all I wanted to say. If ya see Jade, let him know Azul’s lookin’ for him.” He turns around, pauses, and then looks over his shoulder at you. “Your new perfume’s lame. Ya gotta get a nicer scent.”
And then he’s disappearing into the foliage, shaded under wide, full boughs. You stand stupefied and replay his words in a loop. Out of every detail gleaned, the strangest was Floyd’s claim that you smelled like Jade. You feel foolish for dwelling on it, but it’s starting to eat through your organs with its implications and now all sorts of questions are sparking in your brain. Why would Floyd pick up on your scent? Was he being truthful, or was that intended to make you squirm with discomfort? Is it an unpleasant sort of smell? Does he mean to say you smell salty like the sea because that’s where Jade’s from? But what does Jade even smell like? With the reluctance of a cat near water, you raise your wrist to your nose and inhale deeply.
I’m not wearing any perfume…
Groaning, you bury your face in your hands next.
And I forgot to give him the heliotrope.
You spin around just as a patch of Jade becomes visible, pieces of his figure slowly gaining clarity as the effects of the illusory spell fade. Neither of you says anything, opting to decode the message on the other’s face. You think about crossing the distance to scold him in close proximity, if only to break the thickening tension, but that urge falls away as soon as it comes.
“Do you think he knows?”
“It’s possible. Mages can always sense magic, even the smallest of spells. At the very least, he was aware a third party was here.”
“So you weren’t really invisible then.”
“Physically, yes. It only works on those who neglect to notice or aren’t adept in spellcasting.” He slides his arms into the sleeves of his lab coat, gracefully unruffled. “I thought I’d spare you the chagrin if I made myself scarce. Unless you wanted Floyd to know, in which case I’ll be more than delighted to divulge our secret affair.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. And don’t call it that! It’s just convenient that you’re his twin and can do a good impression. Convenient, okay?”
“Conveniently an affair. Or should we settle for ‘dalliance’ instead? How about mutualism? Partnership? Which do you prefer?”
You rub calming circles into your temples. By the Great Seven, he’ll annoy you to death before you can even confess. You’re buzzing with irritation, but it’s not directed at Jade. Instead, you’re frustrated with your failure. You let Floyd leave. You had an entire conversation going and it fell apart because you sent him away. Because you just had to ask if that was all he needed from you. On top of that, it’s blisteringly hot in here and Floyd said you reek of Jade; and you’re not even wearing any perfume, and you probably smell and look so gross; and your nonstop sweating might be ruining your makeup and—
“(Name)?”
“What?” It’s harsh on your tongue, a demand rather than a question. He offers you a handkerchief. You stare at the pristine, frilly white blur clutched between his fingers. “I’m fine. I don’t need your sympathy. In fact, I don’t want it.”
And then the first tear traces a line down your cheek.
“Oh. Um. Hold on.” You wipe it away with your wrist, sniffling as you do so. “Fuck, I’m a mess. This is the worst. I can’t even… I can’t do anything right. I had the perfect opportunity to ask him or…talk to him—say anything I wanted, change the subject—I don’t know! And I… I blew it. I completely r-ruined it and now he thinks I smell like you, but we’re not even together like that and if he thinks I’m taken I’ll never have a chance!”
“I understand how devastating it must feel, but you shouldn’t let that discourage—”
You swat him and the handkerchief away when he takes a step closer. “Stop. Just…stop. You don’t understand. You have no idea how it feels. Don’t act like you do.”
Jade hesitates, opens his mouth, and then shuts it.
“I love him, Jade. I love him so much, but I don’t know where to start. It sucks. I feel so lost. And… And he said I smelled like you! Does he think I have a bad scent? Am I really that terrible?” You wipe at the onslaught of unstoppable tears and hiccup through a blubbery sob. “O-Or am I boring? Is that it? If I smell like you, does that mean I have a boring smell? But then it was my fault for ending the conversation. And then… And I didn’t even get to give him the flower…”
“You’re far from boring, (Name).”
“But I must be if Floyd—”
“I disagree.”
“You’re just saying that because you can. Because you’re not Floyd.”
“But I know Floyd, and Floyd only returns to those he deems fun or fulfilling. Furthermore, if he thought you smelled bad he would have said so, unfiltered and brutally honest. As one of his most devout admirers, this should be beginner’s knowledge for you.”
“I know. I know. I—” You pause, brows furrowing, and suddenly it isn’t so heart-wrenching anymore. “You’re right, actually.”
“See? There’s no need to sully your pretty visage with tears and snot. It was just one interaction. There are many more to come, surely.” He snips a new heliotrope from the bush and holds it out to you. “If not the handkerchief, will you accept this and try again?”
You stare at the cutting, shakily taking it. A wet, weak laugh forces itself from the constrictive confines of your throat. “Yes, Jade,” you mutter, scrubbing the salt from your eyes. “Yes, I’ll try again.”
He smiles, but it isn’t duplicitous. “Please don’t let me keep you any longer.”
“W-Wait, you meant now?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t mean tomorrow or next week.”
“Be quiet, smart-ass.”
“You say that and yet you’ve started smiling. What happened to ‘I’m the worst’ and ‘I ruined my chances’?”
Flustered, you slap your hand over your mouth to curb your growing grin. “I’m not smiling! It wasn’t funny! I… I’m still upset!” You back away on quick feet, ducking around the corner with a final, “I’m still the worst! A total failure!”
Jade laughs into his fist, savoring the fleeting sounds of your soles upon the concrete. As if coming down from a miraculous high, he allows his short-lived joy to ebb away. Sadness soon sets in when he glances at the scattered petals on the ground, and he can only hope the new heliotrope won’t meet the same wilted fate as its predecessor. He’s just about to gather them when you pop into sight once more, your chest heaving as if you just ran a grueling race. He stares at you, a single brow raised. Suddenly, feeling glum is the last thing on his mind.
“Back so soon?”
“I—” you huff, gathering both your thoughts and breath— “I forgot…to give you…a message!”
“Oh?”
“Azul needs you at the lounge.” You wipe sweat from your brow, rushing through the words. “And just so you know—skipping work doesn’t really seem like your style, but it’s not a bad change of pace for you. I kinda like rebellious, sweets-loving Jade who’s greedy for both land and sea. Can’t say Azul will agree, though.”
For once he doesn’t seem to have a clever retort at the ready. But that doesn’t matter because you’re already bounding away, light on your feet as if you’ve just won a lottery. Maybe you have and it’s the premise of a second chance that has you feeling so filled with luck. Jade shakes his head at the foolishness of it all, his close-lipped smile widening.
If anyone’s won anything today, it’s him. But despite this, it feels far more empty than he imagined it would.
You’re humming as you skip along, tracing the path you’re certain Floyd traveled. With the heliotrope clutched in your hand, you dry what’s left of the tears in your puffy eyes and hurry along. You won’t mess up this time. You’re going to give him the flower and then!
Your gait slows to an abrupt halt. And then… And then what? You’ll have to say something else. You can’t just wordlessly bestow a flower to the love of your life and think that’s enough. Great Seven, you’re not even prepared!
For a small, vulnerable second you consider turning back and returning to Jade to get his opinion on this predicament. He knows Floyd best; he’d have plenty of advice. But you don’t want to face him. Not after everything that happened. Reminders of your intimacy with him creep in like an intrusive thought, overwhelming with its lewd imagery. You can’t believe you allowed it to go that far—to stray into a territory you’ve never navigated before. Kissing is one thing. Working Jade towards his orgasm is another.
There’s a bingo card for this, surely. An invisible one you’re steadily marking off as you go: Kissing with Jade? Check. Feeling certain assets below the belt? Check. Being compared to a celestial body, which is arguably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever told you in all of the years you’ve lived your life? That’s oddly specific, but it’s on the card. Check.
It’s a bingo card for a mutually beneficial partnership. Not the kind for a pair of lovers. Definitely not.
You’d mourn your inability to draw significant boundaries if it weren’t for the fraction of yourself that hungers for the attention, drinking it in like it’s a frosty glass of water on a humid night. It’s wrong to fool yourself over and over—inane, even. Why would you subject yourself to this torture if you know what waits for you at the end of this: heartbreak at the hands of delusion? You shouldn’t use Jade like this either. That’s also wrong, but he’s so accessible. So willing to indulge you. It’s a fair trade. A fair game. No one gets hurt. No one wins and no one loses.
But then fairness is never promised in a trade with Jade—with anyone from Octavinelle, really. You fall into the especially desperate souls category and so your situation is very different from those who look for easy academic cheats or social hacks.
Shaking your head, you free yourself of these thoughts, pushing each one aside as if wading through murky water, and trudge onwards. There’s no point in dwelling on what’s already happened.
It’s not even real intimacy, you remind yourself, hardening your heart. It’s just physical. We both agreed to help each other. He’ll role-play as Floyd and we’ll go from there. It’s Jade who’s being weird with his silver tongue and stupid poetry.
“The moon, huh…” you mutter, twirling the heliotrope between your fingers. “That’s a first…”
Nice try, Jade. A few hollow compliments aren’t going to convince me to be gentler when I rate your mushroom dishes.
Your feet take you across the bridge, leaving the botanical garden and the alchemy workshop far behind, to the cobbles that extend past the Hall of Mirrors and towards a stone staircase. You take each step one at a time until you’re standing in front of the Mystery Shop. Surprisingly enough—or maybe it’s not because you were hoping for this—Floyd’s there, leaning against a tree trunk and scrolling on his phone. Your arrival seems to pull him from whatever was occupying him on his screen, for he glances up at you.
You shake off every nerve that tightens at the premise of interacting with him. Pretend he’s Jade. I talk to Jade just fine, so maybe if I can just—
Floyd kicks off from the tree, falling into a lazy step that looks more like a slither as he crosses the distance to get to you. Or maybe you’re paying too much attention to his legs. Either way, he’s standing in front of you now, his phone pocketed and arm outstretched. You follow the length of it, taking notice of the gift bag that hangs from his grasp like bait on a fishing lure.
He’s not shifty like Jade, you think. Okay, maybe he’s a little shifty. But he means well! Most of the time…
“Is… Is this for me?”
Floyd nods and shakes it. “Gonna open it?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Shrimpy’s askin’ lotsa questions.”
“Because Floyd is acting suspicious. What have I done that would make you buy something for me?”
“What if I wanna treat Shrimpy? S’nothing wrong with a little somethin’ every now and then, yeah? I think you’ll like it.”
“That doesn’t sound very comforting…”
“C’mon. Just open it.” He presses it into your hand. “Trust me.”
You roll your eyes, a smile playing at your lips. Pushy just like his brother.
“I trust you.” Cautiously, you stick your hand inside and withdraw a pink box patterned with red swirls. In looping script, the words Cherry Crush are printed. You almost drop the heliotrope in your excitement, and you tear the box open to get to the bottle that rests within. “No way!” You look at Floyd. He confirms your disbelief with a grin. “For me? Seriously? Really?”
“Who else? Course it’s for you.” He tilts his head, watching you a little too closely. “You like it?”
“Wait, I haven’t even put it on yet!” The cap comes off and you spritz some on your wrist. Waving it around so it’ll dry faster, you feel yourself break out into a dumb smile. “Yes, I do like it. A lot. Thank you.”
“No prob. I’m glad,” he says, pronouncing it in a hum. “You like smellin’ sweet, so I got ya somethin’ sweet.”
You catch a sugary whiff and sigh, wholly satisfied. It’s perfect, everything you could’ve ever wanted, and you hope it washes away whatever scent Floyd had previously detected on you. If love smells like Cherry Crush perfume, you never want to fall out of it.
“Oh, speaking of that, I actually got you something, too.”
“Gonna take a guess and say it’s that flower you’ve got.”
“Yeah! I picked one from the botanical garden. It’s a heliotrope.”
Floyd takes it from you, turns it over in his hand, and whistles. “Pretty. Why’s it for me? It looked nicer in your hair.”
Your skin prickles as the memories spring forth.
“Oh. Uh, that… I think it would look much prettier in a vase or something…”
“Mm, nah.”
The once freely flowing conversation halts. You kick yourself for putting yourself in a corner. Why is it so challenging to keep a chat going? With Jade, you could go for hours, bickering and bantering about the smallest details. With Floyd, it feels like you have to carve your insides out just to keep him engaged. But if that’s what it takes, you’ll do it. Anything for Floyd.
“I think it might look pretty in your hair.”
“You think so?”
“Y-Yeah! I mean, purple is such a beautiful color and it matches Octavinelle’s aesthetic. You could even wear it as a pin. Oh, but you’d have to make it into one first. Or you could tuck the stem into the breast pocket on your uniform! That might work best.”
Floyd chuckles. “Shrimpy’s really into this, huh?”
“Oh. Ah. Um… It’s only a suggestion.”
“You like flowers then?”
Mutely, you nod. You can taste your heartbeat in your mouth—frantic and metallic. Or maybe you’ve bitten the inside of your cheek in the midst of your hasty ramblings and it’s the river of blood filling your mouth that you mistake for a heartbeat. Either way, you want nothing more than to curl up in the soil and disappear forever.
“You should see ’em in the Coral Sea. It’s real nice down there. Lotsa flowers and plants and stuff.”
“Oh, I’ve actually seen some of them before! When we went to the Coral Sea to get that photograph from that museum, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” He giggles at the recollection. “Good times.”
“You gave us a proper fright. You and Jade. Slippery eels…”
“Had fun doin’ it, too.”
You snort when he flashes his teeth at you, not apologetic in the slightest. “I’m sure you did.”
Again, the conversation glides to a halt. Floyd seems content to stand and stare, and it pains you that you must, once again, direct him towards something interesting.
“Um, Floyd, I actually wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure thing. Shoot.”
“Well… Um, I don’t know if you like baking or anything—or maybe you’ve never tried it—but I was thinking… Actually, since you’re here, I thought that we might be able to… No, sorry. I meant, since we ran into each other, wouldn’t it be fun if—oh, wait! About my interview! Yeah, that. Is… Is it possible I could get another interview?”
If there was a competition to see how many times you could bumble in front of Floyd, you’d take first place and you’d still feel like a loser.
“Mm, I dunno. You’ll have to talk to Azul about it.”
“Then could I talk to him now?”
Floyd nods and steps ahead. He doesn’t look back to check if you’re following, and while you drag yourself behind him poisonous thoughts dig into your skull, threatening to split it open and infect the squishy brain matter beneath.
Why can’t I just ask him what I really want? I said all of those embarrassing things to Jade without any problems. So why can’t I say it to Floyd?
“Shrimpy’s so set on workin’ at the lounge. Why’s that?”
“I need to fill my resume,” you lie.
Floyd nods. You hurry to match his stride, lest he leave you and your crumbling heart behind. “I getcha.”
“Do you know why Azul won’t hire me?”
“Cuz ya don’t have much experience workin’.”
“Hey! I have lots of experience! Azul’s missing out on a very good worker, I’ll have you know.”
“Sure he is.”
“What would you do—if you were the boss, I mean?”
“Hire ya. Then it’ll get a lot more fun in the lounge.”
You finally fall into step beside him, your eyes wide with wonder. “Really? You think I’d be a fun coworker?”
“Yeah, totally.”
Your grip on the bag tightens, courage filling you at once. He thinks I’m fun…
For all of his boasting about being accessible and willing to listen to everyone’s troubles, Azul is unimpressed when Floyd drops you off at his VIP room. Your beloved eel winks just as you step inside, offering you a sing-song, “Good luck,” before slinking off. You were confident for all of ten seconds, but then the door closes and you’re left with Azul, who looks very unwilling to hear you out; and suddenly your not-so-rehearsed speech doesn’t seem so foolproof anymore.
He doesn’t flinch when you rush him and slam your hands upon his desk. In fact, you don’t think he even looks up to acknowledge your boisterous presence, too engrossed in a stack of documents to even bother.
“Azul, you have to hire me! Please give me one chance. I won’t let you down. I’ll do everything you ask!”
“This again?”
“I’m serious. I want to work here.”
“Jade tells me otherwise.”
“What? That I’m not serious?”
“I’d hazard an assumption that you’re more serious about Floyd than you are about contributing to the lounge.”
You gasp, offended, to which Azul rolls his eyes, foregoing his usual lofty decorum. “That is…very true, yes. But I’ll work hard, and I’ll show up on time. I’ll even sign a contract! Please, Azul, I’ll do anything. I need this job.”
He hums, unconvinced. “You do realize it’s not guaranteed you’ll become any closer to Floyd than you already are.”
“I know.” You gaze at the perfume box resting within the bag. There’s hope. “But… But I’m not going to give up. I’ll keep pestering you about interviews until the end of your days.”
Sensing an in, Azul straightens the documents, sets them on his desk, and gazes at you. The atmosphere shifts in an instant with his newly stoked interest, or perhaps he’s feigned apathy all along just to see how far you’ll lower yourself.
“As it happens, there is an open position, if you’d be interested in hearing more.”
“Go on…”
“If hired, you’d join my staff as a waitress. We could use the extra help when the foot traffic peaks, and since you appear genuinely motivated—as wildly misplaced as this motivation may be—I could consider giving you the job.”
“Wait, seriously? You’d hire me?”
“Only if you work as you’ve so dutifully claimed you will.”
“I will! I’m not lying about that.”
“If you were so desperate, you could have looked to Sam for a job. The Mystery Shop is always hiring.”
“But it doesn’t have Floyd.”
“Of course. One-track as ever… Well, if you’re truly so determined, let me ask you something.”
Danger thickens in the air when you spy his sticky smile, but if Azul is all who stands between you and Floyd you’ll take the risk.
“I’m only listening if you’re going to be honest. No strings.”
“Why, that smarts, (Name)! And I thought we were thick as thieves!”
“Not as thick as your delusion, no.”
“How rude. Is that any way to speak to your future employer and boss?”
“We’re getting distracted. What did you want to ask me?”
Azul tuts. “Ever the impatient one. If you must know, I’d like to ask if you’d be willing to make a deal.”
“Yes. Absolutely. Whatever it takes.”
He’s thrown somewhat off course at your readiness. But before you can take his momentary hesitation and twist the conversation in your favor, he recovers with an admirable level of poise. With an airy chuckle, he plucks his magic pen from his breast pocket and swishes it in an elegant motion. A contract scroll, its contents written in perfect cursive, materializes within seconds. You stare at it, mesmerized by the aureate shimmer.
“The terms are fairly simple. You’ll work your hours as scheduled. You’re permitted to turn to Floyd for guidance so long as you remain focused on the task at hand. I’ll even align your schedule with his if it pleases, but I can’t make any promises that he’ll show up for his appointed shifts. He’s mercurial, you see, but you’re likely aware of this.”
You nod, soaking in the information like a rapacious sponge. “And? What’s the catch?”
“The catch,” he says, eyeing you with predatory intent, “is that you’ll have every opportunity to prove to me that your work ethic is as authentic as you say it is. Fail thrice and you’ll lose your job and, consequently, your chance at currying favor with Floyd.”
“That’s all? Sounds oddly safe coming from you.”
“Oh, did you think I was finished?” He chuckles and withdraws a vial from his desk drawer. The colorless liquid inside the glass sloshes when he sets it down.
“What’s that?”
“A potion.”
“I know that. I mean, what’s it supposed to be a potion for? Is it a love potion?” You gasp and hurry to snatch it from the desk. Azul beats you to it, levitating it out of your reach with a swish of his magic pen. “Seriously, what is it? I’ll drink it if that’s what you want, but I need to know what I’m working with.”
“It’s meant for you, yes. I’ll need you to add part of yourself to the mixture and let it sit for, say, a few minutes. Three should suffice. Then you’ll be free to drink it.”
“What should I add?”
“Let me phrase it this way—what are you most comfortable drinking? Blood? Saliva? Something else?”
Your face falls and he laughs. “That doesn’t sound appetizing whatsoever.”
“Most potions never are, but this one is special.”
“Special how?”
“A lady of many questions, aren’t you?”
“Forgive me for being cautious, but you’re a man of many tricks and lies. Can you blame me for being suspicious?”
“If that’s the case, shall I call Floyd in here and have him give you the overview? Would that ease your worries?”
“Absolu—wait, no. No, not at all. I’m focused on working!” You open your palm to receive the fishbone pen he offers, its tip already submerged in pitch-black ink. “Work is in my brain. Not Floyd. I promise.”
“We’ll see.” Azul places the vial on the desk once more, its foggy opacity an unsolved mystery. “To review: You’ll work for me, show me that you’re not just here to follow a fluffy daydream—” his nose scrunches at that phrasing, as if it leaves a foul taste on his tongue— “and in return I shall so graciously provide you with plentiful opportunities to be near Floyd. You’ll also be expected to drink that potion at some point and retrieve a few things while under its effects. More on that at a later date.”
That sounds so suspicious! Is he even hearing himself?
“And if I mess up three times, that’s it? I’m fired?”
“Three strikes and you’re out, as they say.” He smiles and gestures to the contract lying before you, an empty line awaiting a hasty signature. “Do we have a deal?”
You stare between the perfume and the scroll. Exhaling slowly, you steel yourself and scrawl your name in messy script. The dim lighting contorts his enthused features into something devilish. Before you can even think to peruse the contract for its fine print—a trademark of any Azul Ashengrotto contract—the parchment rolls itself up and vanishes in a fantastical poof.
“A pleasure doing business, (Name). Should you find yourself in need yet again, you’re always welcome to consult me any time.”
You almost thank him, but instead you catch yourself and say, “You made me wait on purpose, dragging your decision out so I’d come to you when I was most desperate. You were probably going to hire me all along, weren’t you?”
“Let’s say my considerations have been successfully swayed.”
You roll your eyes, a fiery quip bubbling on your tongue, but a knock at the door draws your attention away from Azul.
“I’ll cook you if you’re playing any tricks,” you threaten before swiping the vial and stuffing it in the bag alongside the perfume. And then you pivot on your heel. “Turn you into something healthy. Like an octopus salad.”
“Oh, anything but that. I’m so terrified.” (He’s not.)
On your way out, you pass Jade. He looks partially surprised to see you, his widened, mismatched hues following you for a long, starstruck moment until Azul squawks at him with an impatient huff. You catch his chiding words just as the door eases shut: “Where have you been all day? I would expect this behavior from Floyd, but never from you.”
Your feet carry you into the busy lounge. Inhaling scents of food and drink, you hold your breath and let your achievement sink in.
I got the job.
It fizzles out of you in a satisfied whistle.
I got the job.
And then you’re jumping up in celebration, punching the air with clenched fists, uncaring that students are turning to scrutinize. “Hell yeah! I got the job! Eat your doubtful, hater words, Jade Leech!”
You whirl towards the VIP room, all smiles and giggles, intending to barge in there and rub your success in his face. But then you take a bewildered pause.
Why do I want to tell him so badly?
Is it worth sharing with Jade? Would he even truly care? Something tells you he would—a tiny, nagging something that’s doing everything it can to convince you of a fact you’ve yet to prove. You think back to the night you spent in the Mostro Lounge kitchen, discussing the differences between land and sea while waiting for the brownies in the oven, and wonder if he was telling the truth when he said he’d choose both options. Maybe he only cares about the amusement and the entertainment and not the sentimentality of following a love across land and sea. He’s sly, a natural sycophant, and so that seems probable and much easier to believe.
Still…
“Ah, forget it!” you hiss, choosing to make your retreat now before you can talk yourself into divulging the good news. He’ll find out soon enough. He doesn’t need to hear it from you, but it would be immensely pleasing to be the one to deliver it.
Floyd is waiting for you in the tunnel that connects the lounge to Octavinelle. Backdropped by swirling blues and marine life, looking like a painter’s finest pièce de résistance, he slinks over to meet you halfway.
“What’s the status? Didja get it?”
You stare at him, overwhelmed with love for his unruly charms, and nod ecstatically. Thoughts of Jade and revenge evaporate altogether, irrelevant now that you’re with your star.
“Hey, congrats! I knew you’d get it.” He leans over to wrap you in a harmless chokehold. “This means we’re gonna be workin’ together from now on. Make sure to pull your weight or else I might hafta squeeze ya…”
“Oh! Of course I’ll pull my weight! That and more.” Your fingers curl around his bicep and you lift your head to peer up at him, studying the droopy eyes, the messy hair, the sturgeon scale earring, and the curiosity curved on his lips. He’s perfect. You wish he was yours. “Floyd, can I tell you something?”
He perks considerably. “What’s up?”
You’re inches from kissing him, hoping to confess your love in the most bodily of ways. Rather than acting impulsively you seize his fedora and, shimmying out of his arms, fit it on your head.
Before bitterness can seep into your smile, you strike a dramatic pose and ask, “It suits me, doesn’t it?”
Floyd’s eyes sweep over your form, starting at the hat and working down to your shoes. He grins. “It’s a good fit, yeah. Makes you look official.”
“Officially Octavinelle!”
Floyd’s brows knit together in concentration. He skips over to you and bends down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Now you’re officially Octavinelle. Got the seal of approval and everything.”
You gawp at him, hot all over, and bring your hand to your cheek. Though it was a quick kiss, the feeling lingers and sinks into your skin like a brand. Floyd pulls away, his hat in his hands.
“Cute,” he whispers, stoking the flames even further. “You look just like a li’l shrimp when you’re surprised. You get all small and hunched.”
“I do not.” You swat at him, but you aren’t annoyed with his observation. “Cheeky eel.”
He dodges your arm. “Aw, c’mon. Shrimpy knows she likes me.”
I do, you think. I really, really do.
“You’re delusional,” you say instead, stalking ahead. If you stay here any longer, your heart might just burst.
Floyd doesn’t follow, but his laughter floats down the tunnel hall, cloying like Cherry Crush perfume.
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Jade is radiating an unusual energy when you step into the lounge kitchen. Restless is a good way to describe it, which can only mean one thing: Something’s up.
He’s wringing a rag in his hands, features alight with just barely suppressed ebullience. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet, yes?”
Yeah, something’s definitely up.
“You told me not to in your text. Why? Was I supposed to?” Skeptical, you sniff at the air and catch all kinds of savory scents. “Smells yummy!”
He nods, smiling wider than he usually does. You peer at the many pots and pans lining the stovetop, and he steps aside to obscure your view.
“Please close your eyes. I’ll guide you to the table.”
It’s then that you realize “the table” is not the island you ate at previously but an actual table set with a frilly tablecloth, utensils for two, and a vase of heliotropes. You gape at the display, wondering what in the world is happening.
“I don’t trust that. You’re gonna do something weird the minute I shut my eyes.”
“I would never. Not this time, at least.”
“You’re unbelievable. What’s all of this for anyway?”
“For you, of course.”
“I’m not following. Wait… Wait, hold on. Is this a dinner date?”
“Would…you like it to be?”
It clicks then, the decorations and the classy ambience.
“Oh, I get it! You’ll play Floyd and it’ll be like I’m on a date with him. That’s actually genius! I haven’t even thought about date ideas yet, but with this I’ll be able to better prepare myself for when we—”
“You start your first shift tomorrow,” he interrupts, uncharacteristically crass. Although he smiles, his expression is tightened with turmoil. “I believe you’re due for a celebration.”
His startling abruptness aside, you smirk and rest your hands on your hips. “That’s right! I got the job and all it took was patience, persistence, and positivity.”
“Surely you mean to say impatience, annoying the ink out of Azul, and some self-deprecation, right?”
“S-Shut up. We’re not going to talk about it.”
Jade holds a hand over his heart. “Well, allow me to extend my sincerest congratulations. I look forward to seeing how you’ll fare tomorrow.”
“Do you work as well?”
“Azul tasked Floyd and me with training you. He doesn’t trust you to be alone with Floyd for more than three minutes.”
“I wouldn’t trust myself either. I mean, have you seen how he rolls his sleeves up when he’s in waiter mode? And when he’s balancing so many drinks without breaking a sweat… Ah, he’s the best!” Your sigh sticks in your throat when you register the rest of his words. “So it’s not just Floyd training me?”
“Fortunately, no.”
“So you’re just going to be a third wheel.”
“Not in the slightest. I’ll be your supervisor.”
You pull an ugly face at that. Being under Jade’s supervision sounds like a punishment pulled right from the recesses of hell, but it’s not like you have any sort of power to debate the decision. After all, in the eyes of every other employee, you’re just a new hire sitting at the bottom of the ladder. Or, if you want to be more accurate, at the bottom of the sea.
“That’s even worse. Ugh. You’re totally the villain in my love story!”
“Have I not been aiding you this entire time? Surely that warrants a title far kinder than that.”
“Okay, fine. You are…my sidekick—yeah, sidekick—and with your help I’ll get my happy ending with Floyd. Right! Speaking of, he bought me perfume and then he kissed me the other day! Kissed me, Jade! He said it was a seal of some sort. I’m ‘officially Octavinelle.’ Anyway, it’s definitely good progress!”
“Did he now?”
“Here, smell! I put some on before I came here.” You raise your wrist to his nose and he obeys, leaning down to sniff at it. “Isn’t it nice? He said it suits me because I smell sweet all the time.”
“He isn’t wrong. You wear the most delightful scents. Now, that aside, if Her Highness would allow her ever-so-faithful sidekick to serve dinner…”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m going.” You step towards the table and lower into the seat he pulls out for you. “So what’s on the menu, Chef?”
“I’ve prepared a three-course meal. You do know what that is, yes?”
“I’m not a fool.”
“Sometimes your actions tell me otherwise.”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all.” You fold your arms over your chest and scoff. “Asshole eel.”
“Contradictory.” He tuts.
The two of you stare at each other. You laugh first, the sound coming out as a snort, and Jade soon follows your lead. It’s not a particularly amusing exchange, and yet neither of you can cease chuckling.
Jade manages to settle himself before you do, but there are still traces of mirth evident on his face. It crinkles his eyes when he says, “Shall we put this conversation on hold for now? I’m not sure how partial you are to cold dinners.”
You grin. “I’m ready to feast.”
At your request, he serves the appetizer and entrée together. You’re too hungry to haggle him for dessert, and so you simply sit back and watch as he sets various dishes on the circular table. A large garden salad with tongs and a dozen different dressings in small bottles. A loaf of fresh, crispy sourdough bread and a tiny plate of margarine. Two bowls of a soup you can’t name, but one smell has your stomach growling like a starved beast.
Jade senses your blatant staring and looks at you with raised brows.
“Is something the matter?”
“Just admiring the food.”
“You flatter me.”
“Not you.” You struggle to contain your giggle. “Okay, maybe you.”
“Because I look like Floyd from this angle?”
“Mm, no. You look like Jade.” You bat your lashes at him. “And Jade looks very handsome when he’s doing something he likes.”
Jade stands there, nonplussed, his face reddening. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him fluster outright.
By the time you’ve started snickering, he’s already recovered. “You never fail to surprise. Might I ask why you’re suddenly so kind to me? It’s unlike you to think of anyone else outside of Floyd.”
“Consider it my very late revenge. For that time you compared me to the moon, remember?”
“And you claim I’m the vindictive one.”
“You’re not the only one who gets to catch others off guard like that.”
He hums, folding the rag away after setting the final dish down. It’s so wrinkled from his previous twisting and turning of it. “I suppose that makes us even.”
“Hell yeah it does.” You motion for him to sit and he does, stretching his napkin out and placing it on his lap. “Did you really make all of this from scratch?”
“Indeed. That is a wild mushroom and farro soup. It’s a recipe I recently learned. Do tell me how it tastes.”
“No fair. It’s hard to be mean when you’ve done all of this for me. And from complete scratch, too.” Pouting, you stir your spoon through the soup. It’s packed full of sliced mushrooms, carrots, celery, and onions. In short, it smells divine. You’re certain it’ll taste so when you bring a spoonful to your lips, blow gently, and indulge. After three more scrumptious spoonfuls, you conclude with an obnoxious assessment: “The broth is exquisitely…exquisite. And the vegetables taste fresh and…super good. Yeah, it’s really good! One-hundred out of ten! Kinda heavy for a soup, though, but that makes sense if you’re using it as the main course.”
Jade’s smile reaches his eyes. “Thank you for saying so.”
As if those are the magic words, he samples the dish for himself, wasting no time in eating more. You peer through the heliotropes while you reach for the bread and butter, watching him savor his meal. It’s almost…cute.
Almost.
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Octopus carpaccio.”
“How come you’ve never made any for me?”
“I wasn’t aware that the nature of our deal has strayed into domesticity. Shall we get fitted for wedding attire next? Are you fond of rings? How about pearls?”
“Shut up. You know that’s not it.” You spread margarine on your slice before dunking it in the soup. “I just wanted to ask.”
“In case you were wondering, Floyd favors takoyaki.”
“I know.”
His spoon stops at his mouth. Seconds after, he exhales through his nose, smiling behind his hand. “I would expect nothing less of his greatest fan.”
“I’d get perfect marks if Professor Crewel taught Floyd 101. But octopus carpaccio sounds delicious. Kinda awkward to think about it when Azul’s an octo-mer, though. Oh, he actually gave me something—a potion I’m meant to take as part of our contract. Do you know anything about that?”
“A potion? I’m afraid I only know as much as you do.”
“Bummer.” You munch on your bread, contemplating. “It’s not a love potion. That much he confirmed, but he said I have to add part of myself to the mixture, let it sit for a little bit, and then drink it.”
“How curious.”
“You’d tell me if you knew, wouldn’t you?”
“For the right price.”
“Ew, no. Forget it. You’ll just scam me.”
Jade chuckles and fixes himself a plate of salad. He drizzles a tangy vinaigrette over it next, pushing the greens around with his fork so the flavor soaks into every crisp vegetable.
“But whatever it is, I hope it’s safe. I’m sorta in the dark right now. That instruction about adding a part of myself isn’t a helpful clue.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out in due time. I’ll be rooting for you.”
“Please don’t.”
“You never did tell me. How did your second attempt go?”
“My second attempt? Oh, the heliotrope! He accepted it. Told me it was pretty and that it looked even prettier in my hair. That was when he gave me the perfume. I’m just not sure why. I mean, I guess there’s probably not a real reason. He’s Floyd. He does whatever he wants when he feels like it. Still, I can’t stop myself from wondering…” You gasp when it hits you. “Do you think he gave me perfume because I smelled bad that day?”
Jade shakes his head, unfazed by your panicked conclusion-jumping, and continues to eat. “I can theorize,” he finally says, dabbing his lips with a napkin.
“Okay, so do it. Please tell me it wasn’t because of what I think it is.”
“Moray eels have a very robust sense of smell. We can tell many things apart purely by smell alone in the sea. We commit recurring scents to memory, such as that of food or family. Smell helps us return to those we cherish, so it acts as a helpful beacon.”
“I…don’t really get it. Are you saying you use smell to guide you? But you’re on land. Visibility must be easier here than down there.”
“To merfolk, one’s smell can evoke a variety of feelings. When you smell something delicious, does it not make you happy? This is much the same for us, even more so when it comes to other mers. Family smells like home and thus we feel safe and comfortable when wrapped in such a distinct scent. The smell of someone you care for will fill you with affection and tranquility. If that same someone is distressed, we can often smell it. Essentially, smell is special to us in a way that differs from humans’ understanding of it. No matter how far we may stray, we can always follow familiar scents to reach our destination. Our home. Our heart.” His hand splays across his chest to illustrate that last point.
“Wow. That’s…really romantic,” you mutter, chewing slowly. “So smell is like a type of unspoken communication?”
Accompanied by the gentle jazz notes from the radio, Jade’s voice is musical. “More or less. We don’t have to speak all the time to know what the other is saying.”
“Merfolk are fascinating…”
“I could say the same about humans.”
“Yeah, but we’re not that fascinating. Not like that.” You study your warped reflection in the soup. “So he gave me perfume to locate me?”
“He gave you perfume to cover my scent.”
Your head snaps up to look at him. Even though he appears unbothered by this possibility, his lips are pursed in a thin line. You think he doesn’t like this admittance.
“Oh.”
“We’re rather territorial, you see. Relationships in the sea are unlike those up here.”
“Floyd—ah, no, that was you. Uh, you mentioned that once—something about morays not following monogamy. But I’m not dating Floyd. I want to, but even I’m not that delusional. So why would he do something like that? I really doubt it’s a jealousy thing. He doesn’t strike me as the type.”
“Perhaps he just wanted to play. See if I might take notice.”
“So he did it to test you?”
“Amusing, is it not?”
“I…guess?”
I really don’t understand your sense of humor.
Jade reaches for another slice of sourdough just as you do, the both of you seeming to need something to occupy yourselves. Your hand covers his, and for a taut minute you observe him with undivided attention. He twists his hand around to hold yours and something tells you to pull away—to run from this moment and never look back—but you remain, allowing the contact.
“Regardless of his reasons, your smell will always be identifiable to us no matter how much perfume you wear.” He squeezes your hand once and then releases you. “Shrimpy’s left her imprint on me and I ain’t gonna lose that so easily. Not ever. Not even in the middle of a feeding frenzy.”
You open and close your mouth like a beached fish, embarrassment crawling up your spine. You shove a slice of bread at him. “You forgot your bread, idiot.”
He laughs. “How kind of you to remind me.”
You’re the worst, Jade Leech.
You spend the rest of dinner with heavy thoughts, your heart caught in a warring debate. If Jade’s theories hold any water, you might just have a chance with Floyd. Maybe he really does feel the same and smelling Jade on you triggered some sort of moray eel instinct. It’s all you can consider even when you attempt to distract yourself with eating.
Meanwhile, Jade regales you with exciting foraging tales and you try to feign attention, too occupied with dissecting his body language as if it’ll open a new avenue for clues. He’s so unlike Floyd—so different with his hobbies and interests and demeanor. But he masquerades as Floyd so seamlessly, reflecting that same level of capriciousness you’ve come to admire. It’s possible Jade just said something to satisfy your endless questioning. Maybe it had nothing to do with either of your scents after all. Maybe Jade’s just a liar, which isn’t news.
But to say that it was because he wanted to wash Jade’s scent off of me… That’s so embarrassing. So then he knew what we got up to in the botanical garden and he didn’t say a word about it. Does that mean he thinks we’re a thing? No, maybe not. Otherwise why else would he have been so adamant on giving me perfume? But then Jade could be lying, spinning some silly story just to trick me. Ugh, why can’t he ever be serious? My love life’s at stake here.
By the time he’s brought out dessert, a warm blackberry cobbler with scoops of vanilla ice cream situated on top, you abandon all of your conflicting thoughts and focus on enjoying your slice. As expected, it tastes like heaven and you lose yourself in the flavors, quickly forgetting about your burdensome romantic complications.
“Thanks for this, by the way.”
“There’s no need for that. It’s part of our arrangement, is it not?”
“Yeah, but I feel like I’m half-assing my part. You put in all of this work to be Floyd and you’re cooking amazing meals, and then all I’m doing is giving you useless critique.”
“It’s useless, yes.” He smiles around a bite of cobbler. “It isn’t very helpful either, but it is entertaining.”
“Way to soften the blow.” Suppressing a groan, you add, “And you’re also teaching me about moray courtship. I’m not contributing at all.”
“If you’re so desperate to do so, why not share some anecdotes about being human?”
“I doubt you’ll get anything out of it.”
“You never know.”
“Sure. All right. Um…” You stir melting ice cream with your spoon. “Dancing.”
“Dancing?”
“Floyd likes to dance, so I just sorta thought of it.” You chuckle sheepishly. “Uh, did you guys ever dance in the Coral Sea? Is that even possible?”
He nods, his lips quirking up slowly behind the convex of his spoon. “It is very possible.”
“Right. Of course it’d be. Sorry, stupid question.”
“Not at all.” He tilts his head, licking the metal. “Have you ever danced before? Ah, allow me to amend my phrasing. Can you dance, or is that not part of your skill set?”
“I can! I’ll have you know I dance best when I’m trying to impress. And when I’m alone! I’m practically a professional.”
“You’re so practically, professionally delusional. How simple a life you must lead.”
“Not true! Also, rude!” Scoffing, you scoot away from the table, the chair legs squeaking in protest. With a huff, you hold your hand out. “I’ll prove it.”
Jade’s lips split apart in a wild grin, his face tinged pink under the dim amber glow of the kitchen lights. “Oh? And have you prepared yourself for the humiliation that will soon follow when you prove inadequate?”
“I hope there’s enough appetite left in that bottomless stomach of yours because you’ll be eating those words soon enough.” You smirk, cocking your head. “And don’t look so excited. This is a competition, not courtship.”
“And yet they become one and the same under the sea…” You miss his whispered musing, so instead he rises from his seat and bows before you. “Do try to avoid stepping on my feet.”
“Hah! You wish I was that bad!”
“I truly do.”
You brush past him, swaying your hips. The challenging lilt in your voice is a siren’s song, tickling his ears with tantalizing tones. “Only one way to find out, no?”
He stands there, watching the kitchen doors swing shut.
You don’t have to wait long, for he steps through seconds after to join you in the lounge. It’s strange to admire the interior after hours, so empty and devoid of the usual bustling energy it’s known for, but it’s not particularly unsettling. It’s a serene silence, broken only by Jade’s clicking steps as he covers the distance to reach you. Backdropped by the colorful aquarium, bathed in pretty purples and beautiful blues, you really are what the moon is to merfolk: utterly, indescribably breathtaking. Every part of you, from your infectious smile to the way you stand with such confidence, is so magnetizing it leaves him mesmerized.
With a flick of his magic pen, the lights in the lounge dim, giving way to stretching shadows and aquatic phantasms, and the speakers crackle to life. The sophisticated notes of a whimsical waltz come tumbling out. Jade smiles at you, his eyes bright and warm.
“May I trouble you to close your eyes?”
You can feel your own smile carving at your cheeks and so you obey, your lashes fluttering. “I’m trusting you just this once.”
“I shan't let you down,” comes his suave promise.
There’s a mystical tinkle and chime, a bright flash of light that tries to sear your eyelids, and then you’re wrapped up in a soothing warmth. Silk rustles and flutters, twining itself around your body like a boa. The accessories come next, draping across you like an ocean lapping at the shore.
At Jade’s gentle command, you open your eyes. He’s conjured a mirror, which allows you to see yourself dressed in an azure gown, its train swishing with every twirl you take. The ruffles and ribbons, in white and variations of lighter to darker blues, bounce when you, overcome with childish glee, shimmy. They settle in waves, refined in a way that speaks of marble and alabaster. Even the dress’s straps, made of pearl strands and cut out at the shoulders, fascinate you. It’s masterfully crafted, all the way to the snug, form-fitting bodice adorned with more pearls and a pretty bow with a rose. Like a cherry on top, the matching choker is secured around your neck.
Lifting the gown to reveal a pair of shiny black heels, you peer at the frilly white stockings, your mouth dropping open in awe. The mirror is magicked away, and now nothing stands between you and Jade.
“It’s so… It’s amazing,” you mutter, running your fingers over the shimmering fabric.
“A transient illusion befitting my moon princess. Ah, but your attire suggests otherwise… Perhaps you’re more of a jellyfish princess.”
You gasp, flattered beyond words. “Can I be both?”
“Greedy. Greedy.”
“You’re one to talk.” Rolling your eyes, you offer your outstretched hand. The corners of your lips twitch upwards. “Well, will you have this dance, loyal sidekick of mine?”
With his hand resting over his heart, he bows. “It would be an honor, Your Highness.”
The music swells just as his hand closes around yours, fingers twining, and the two of you settle into the proper stance. His other hand rests delicately on your waist, and for a moment you struggle to place your free hand somewhere. He smirks at you, his eyes narrowed in unspoken jeer. Your glower isn’t harsh in the slightest, for your scrunched features give way to a wide, toothy grin when you tug him towards you. His delight is palpable, and he falls into the pace you set with measured finesse.
It’s easy to recount the steps crucial to a standard ballroom dance, and you execute them as if it’s as natural as breathing. The two of you glide effortlessly across the sleek floor, your reflections cast in dappled light. Swaying to and fro like a marionette, your dress billowing behind you, you lift your gaze to his. He’s smiling—truly smiling!—and the sight fills you with satisfaction. You can’t explain it, but it’s so very wonderful to behold a side of Jade that isn’t the reticent walking danger he subjects the school to. Not that that side is bad. For all of the trouble he causes you, you don’t mind it.
You thought you could dislike him, if only to make it easier to pursue Floyd, but rather you gravitate towards the companionship he provides. And not because he’s a phony Floyd, but because he’s Jade.
“See? I told you I could dance.”
“I didn’t doubt you for a moment.”
“Said the liar.”
“My expectations were quite low to begin with.”
Jade twirls you with minimal effort, and you giggle, following the pace he sets alongside the magnificent tempo. You gaze into his mismatched eyes. He’s nothing like Floyd. Tonight he’s Jade, and for the first time that’s much better than any performance he could ever put on.
“I learned back home, but I never stuck with it because I didn’t have a partner to try the routines with. But then I was transported here and I found out Floyd loves to dance, so I practiced in hopes that one day I might be able to—whoa!”
He lowers you into a dip just then. Startled by the sudden change in position, you cling to him while your heart spikes up into your throat.
“Oops.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
Jade smiles down at you, unaffected. “You’re a wonderful dancer.”
“I could’ve told you that.”
“You just did.” He lifts you up, spins you gracefully, and pulls you flush against his chest. “Your body says everything your lips do not.”
“Yeah? Then what am I saying now?”
Standing on the tips of your toes, you hook your arm around his neck and turn to smirk at him. His arm wraps around your stomach, firmly holding you in place against him, while his other hand splays across your chin, guiding your gaze towards his. You hold his stare with a smoldering determination, your hearts beating as one amidst intimate proximity. And then, with his eyelids fluttering to a near-close, he tilts your head further up, leaning down to capture your waiting lips in a soft, soulful kiss.
There are no squirming tongues, clicking teeth, or bloodied maws. Just a precious press of his mouth to yours, an unvoiced declaration of desire.
“That you’re immensely proud,” he whispers, his lips now centimeters from yours, “because you’ve proven my assumptions wrong. More than that, you hoped to catch me off guard.”
“And did I?”
“Why not read my body language and find out for yourself, hm?”
“Sly eel,” you mutter, impressed with his temerity. “You know that’s not gonna work on me. Not unless you’re Floyd.”
“Perhaps not.” Jade spins you out of his hold, disentangling the both of you from your propinquity. “But it’s worth a try, no?”
“A valiant effort.” You pull him along, easing back into the waltz like well-oiled clockwork. Your feet follow the steps in time with the tinkling melody. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Can’t get enough of me?”
He flashes his teeth at you in a menacing grin. “Is honesty not the best policy?”
“It is when you follow it.”
“In that case, we share a commonality.” His fingers crawl up your shoulder to brush the ribbon around your throat. “We’re both liars seeking the comforts of dishonesty.”
“Don’t group me with you.”
“Are you not just as shameless, or am I mistaken?”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Yeaaah? Even though I’m Shrimpy’s favorite? Ain’t I the most congenial?”
Despite yourself, you laugh. “You think he’d say it like that?”
“Not in the slightest, and yet you’d still manage to fall for it.”
“Every time. Without fail.”
Exhaling a disconsolate breath, his smile thins and his eyes cloud over with despondency. “Very predictable.”
The two of you waltz until midnight, exchanging banter and recalling dance-related stories while gliding across an illuminated floor. Your gown falls away in diamond-shaped patches when you step out of the lounge and into the tunnel hall, now back in the clothes you were wearing when you first arrived. You frown when you catch sight of your plain reflection, the fast-paced, upbeat glamour of the evening withering into something slow and quiet. As if it was all but a fleeting dream.
“I can’t believe I’m admitting this,” you say after he’s caught up to you, “but I had fun tonight.”
Jade nudges you. “Ain’t it always fun when you’re with me? You sayin’ this is the only time?”
“Oh, shush.” You return his Floyd-like prodding with some of your own antagonizing pokes. “I had fun with Jade when he’s Jade. There. I said it. You’re not so terrible to hang out with.”
“What was that? I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that.”
“You heard me.”
“One more time.”
“You wish.”
He chuckles. “I suppose I should return the favor. You aren’t so difficult to manage either.”
“That’s a completely different statement. And so backhanded, too!”
“Was yours not worded the same?”
You roll your eyes as the both of you exit Octavinelle via magic bubble. Pressing your palm against the smooth surface, you admire the endless sprawl of ocean, lit by deep-sea bioluminescence and the few artificial lights surrounding Octavinelle territory. Despite the creeping shadows and occasional darting of sea creatures, it’s prepossessing like a mystery. You’re so absorbed in your ogling, so transfixed by the aquatic scenery before you, that you fail to notice he’s watching you closely.
It’s so pretty… I wonder if Floyd thinks so every time he returns to Octavinelle. Or maybe it’s nothing spectacular to him because he lives this back in the Coral Sea. You spot Jade’s reflection then, your eyes zeroing in on his placid smile. Jade probably thinks the same. Actually, what even goes through his head? I can never tell.
With a contented sigh, you turn to slump against the bubble and cross your arms over your chest. “You don’t have to walk me back, you know. It’s out of your way.”
“No, but I insist.”
You shoot him a dubious look, wondering what it is he might possibly want in return for his act of goodwill. Unable to read his intentions, you resolve to take it as it is: a kind gesture.
“Well, thanks for being so chivalrous.”
Under a velvety sea of stars, Jade escorts you all the way to Ramshackle. You hurry to hold the gate open for him and he catches on to your scramble with pointed perception.
“In case you’re unaware, I am capable of doing good deeds without the need for compensation.”
“You’re such a liar!” you exclaim, shaking your head and ushering him through. “No Octavinelle student has ever said that and meant it.”
“Then I shall be the first.”
You swat at his arm and then skip ahead two stone steps. “Yeah, right. You’re way too opportunistic for that.”
Jade stops beside you at Ramshackle’s front door. “I’ve heard a new hire will be joining us. It would be quite convenient if she was made to do all of the work under the guise of training, wouldn’t you agree?”
“That poor new hire. I wonder who it could possibly be,” you say, your delivery flat and unamused. “It’ll be my first day. Have mercy on me.”
“I’ll consider it.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “I’m demoting you back to villain. No more sidekick privileges.”
“I hardly had any to begin with.”
“Hey! Not true! You—”
Just then, a cacophony of chortles pierce the air. You whirl and find three transparent heads poking through the front door, their features alight with mischief.
“Aah, young love. Takes me back.”
“To what? The last century?”
“Hah! I’m surprised you can even remember that far back!”
Your eyes widen to a comical size. “G-Ghosts?! What’re you doing here? How long were you listening in?”
“Long enough,” they answer in eerie unison, all giggles. Hungry for gossip as usual.
“You finally get your kiss with the Leech boy?”
“Yeah! We were waitin’ for ages.”
“Can’t really age anymore, though, but it sure did feel like an eternity. You’d think we’d be dead by now.”
“Oh, wait, we already are! Hah!”
“Sooo, didja get your kiss?”
Burning with embarrassment, you swat at the three of them, seething through your teeth. Your hands pass through their frigid apparitions no matter how much you flail. They reshape themselves with ease, laughing throughout the process.
“Ew, no! Wrong twin!” you hiss, shaking your head. “That’s Jade, guys. Jade.”
They peer past you at him. He smiles and lowers into a respectful bow. “Good evening.”
“So it is indeed Mr. Jade!”
“Apologies. We mistook you for your brother.”
“Greetings! Fine evening for a little smoochin’, don’tcha think?”
“Stop!” You gasp, your face hot with humiliation. “You’re making it worse! Please go back inside. I’ll be in in just a second.” Your attempt to push them through the door is made in vain, for they can’t be moved or touched. “Shouldn’t you guys be scaring Grim or something? Give me a break!”
Jade catches your wrist just as you attempt to bring your fist down against the door. The ghosts vanish into thin air, their cackles a haunting echo.
You huff, offended that they left before you could scold them. “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
He squeezes your hand to soothe your bubbling temper. “There’s no need to fret. They’re merely teasing.”
You’re slow to snatch your hand back. “Yeah. Well… Still.”
“Still?”
“It’s awkward!”
“You’ve made so many bold declarations regarding Floyd, so I was under the impression you weren’t capable of feeling even the tiniest shred of shame. If I recall, weren’t you begging to be bitten in the botanical garden? You wanted my teeth in your shoulder, did you not? You wanted ‘Floyd’ to mark you in such a way so that everyone would know—so that they’d see physical proof of our relations.”
Your mouth drops open in horror. He remembers that?
“S-Shut up! Stop talking!” You bound forwards, pushing him down the stairs and towards the exit. Jade allows this, covering each step without scrimmage. “Seriously, you just love to run your mouth, don’t you?”
“You’re more than welcome to remedy that. According to your friendly poltergeists, tonight is prime for kissing.”
“Kiss me and I’ll kick you in your kneecaps.”
“How cruel.” He feigns a pout, eyes glossing over. “Shrimpy’s so violent…”
You’re about to retort when you remember the kiss he snagged at the lounge during your waltz, and suddenly his crocodile tears are rendered ineffective.
You shove him through the gate, refusing to dignify his nonsense with a reply. “Goodbye! Farewell! Get out!”
“Sweet dreams, Shrimpyyy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Good night.” You flick your hand at him in a shooing motion before latching the gate shut. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jade.”
Shrugging off his Floydness, he returns to himself and pauses as if reflecting. He places his hands on the fence and leans closer to you. Without thinking, you meet him halfway. Before either of you can linger, he closes the distance to kiss your cheek.
“Officially Octavinelle,” he reminds you with a wink.
You stumble away so fast you almost trip. Jade chuckles behind his fist, annoyingly kittenish.
“I hate you.”
“You don’t mean that. Shrimpy loooves me,” he calls out in Floyd’s voice as he departs.
“As if, asshole!”
You scowl at his retreating figure until he’s a mere speck. Once he’s gone, you relax and rub at your face. The feeling of his lips is branded into both your skin and memory, and you fear it will remain like that for a long time. Not wanting to think about what that could mean, you spin on your heel, stomp the rest of the way to your dorm, and throw the door open.
“Ghosts, get back out here!” The authority in your voice morphs into uncontainable glee when you spot them peeking at you from the ceiling. You squeal and jump about the foyer, spinning and whooping all at once. “Oh my gosh! I have so much to tell you! Wake Grim—he’s gotta hear this!”
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second part.
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jaegerbby · 7 months
Text
➳ eren jaeger x female! reader
╰┈➤ word count; 1425
╰┈➤ drabble; unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, breeding kink, choking, cervix fucking, spit swapping, use of the words mama and mommy in dirty talk (not as a mommy kink).
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eren has such a strong hold on you.
from your mind to your heart. from your body to your soul.
right now, that strong hold is why you let him fuck you like this.
oh, he loves you, he loves you.
he loves you entirely.
and the way he loves you, you love him tenfold.
it is hard to believe when he fucks you like this. when he has your legs pressed tight to your chest, trembling over his shoulders. his hands are stroking the column of your throat and swiping at your tears.
there is drool down your jaw and snot in your nose. his pupils are blown so wide, the jade embers are overtaken by black.
eren fucks with reckless, reckless abandon. he fucks like he would never see or touch you again. as if each time is the last and he needs to take every ounce of you until there is nothing left.
his thumb slips past your lips, digging into the slobbery muscle of your tongue as it squirms. he crowds your body more, his thighs connecting with yours.
he is so big, you have lost the ability to think. you cannot find any coherence for the life of you. his hips slam into yours and the way you moan is far from modest.
you mewl and whine, desperate hands digging into the muscles of his back. you are so dirty and sticky, so nasty because your cunt leaks over him. how can you not? how can you resist when the thickness drags along and strokes your walls deliciously? when the blushed, swollen head dips into your cervix and prods it apart.
truly how can you gain any control when the veins pulse against your gummy insides and his balls collide with your skin with every thrust.
you are filthy for him but there is no way you would ever stop it.
his muscles bulge and contort, his body tensing all because he is pounding his cock into you.
"ren." you whimper. he seems to shiver as your voice meets his ears. he practically bares his teeth before slamming his lips onto yours. your body jerks with the weight of his movements. as he pulls out and pushes right back into you so fast you are seeing stars.
his tongue slips into your mouth, tilting his head to kiss you deeper. to kiss you harder and make your mouth his for the millionth time.
there is so much spit you do not think you would ever finish swallowing. when he leans back your hands find the lengthy locks of hair to keep him close.
the smacking sounds of your lips connecting in open mouthed sloppy kisses only makes you wetter. it makes your pussy grip him tighter and soak him more.
eren's composure dwindles further, he slams his cock into you and your eyes roll back. your head presses into the sheets, nails digging into his skin. his back is covered in scratches but eren does not mind.
not when he loves the sting of your nails dragging along his flesh. not when he takes off his shirt and everyone can tell that he got to lose himself in your sweet cunt.
"eren! ren!" your pussy slurps him up and drips desperately, begging for cum. aching to be bred.
"that's it." his large hand encloses around your throat. he tightens his hold, you jolt at the feeling. you swear you are drooling. you swear your brain has stopped functioning.
"tell me who's fucking you, pretty baby." his tongue flicks out to lave over your lips. you want it in your mouth again. you want to kiss him. "tell me who's deep in your pretty pussy."
you whine like a freaked up slut. eren is too big, he stretches you out too wide but he feels so good. so good that you would take it regardless.
"it's you ren. only want eren to fuck me." you will not let him fuck anyone else. you do not want anyone else to have him, not when he is only yours to have.
"yeah? you take it so well. you don't have to do shit but exist and you drive me crazy." he shoves particularly deep into you.
"ren!" you cry, tears leaking down your face while you are breathless.
his hair hangs down and even overtaken by pleasure you find yourself holding it back to see his pretty face. why is he so pretty? why is eren so good at this?
"say it again." he groans. he grips your throat and your cunt clenches on him repeatedly. "c'mon baby, say it for me. say it and i'll fill this pussy with so much cum you won't be able to get it all out. don't you want it?"
"fuck, ren. i want it, i want you." you brokenly rasp in a high pitched wanton whine. eren wants to be the only thing in your every thought. the only name on your tongue. the only one you look at.
him and absolutely no one else.
he sits up onto his knees, ripping the stimulation away. he only pumps into you shallowly. your legs slip from his shoulders instead hooking around his narrow waist.
your shaky hand reaches between your legs, fingers rubbing furiously at the stiff nerves of your cum sodden clit. your body rocks at the stimulation, liquid dripping from your slit and onto the cock that pulls you apart. it is so hot, it warms you from the inside.
"you're too fucking sexy. all i want to do is knock you up." your breath stutters at his words. "you'd like that wouldn't you? who do you think our baby would look like?"
"you, want 'em to look like you."
"mm, but i want my baby to look like their pretty mama." his palm finds your body, trailing along your stomach and lingering for a moment. "we should have a couple." you have no complaints. you nod your head.
he cups your breasts, leaning over you to lap at your stiff nipples. "i wonder how these will look when they're filled with milk, they're already so perfect." your hips rock to stimulate yourself on the thickness of his cock.
you are borderline desperate. you mewl and moan. your fingers finding his skin.
"guess my cock isn't enough. no, you want my seed too, you want me to breed this little cunt and make you a mommy." he huffs, you lose your mind the more he talks to you.
the more you think about the things he says.
your hand strokes down your clit to fleshy walls and as he slowly slides out more, your fingers find the base of his cock.
"that's what i want too. i want to give you it all." his voice is airy and strained.
"i need it, ren." your words are muddled by the high of sex. from having him make you his all over again.
you squeeze his base, sticky liquid staining your digits. "fuck me, ren, please fill me up." tears blur your vision. he wrecks you, he ruins you but he keeps you together. he makes you whole.
"beg for it, baby." he is only teasing. truthfully, you do not have to beg. no, eren just wants to hear your pretty voice say it over and over again. for you to ask him to fill your pussy to the brim with cum until there is no way you are not pregnant.
eren slowly slips out and sinks back within your hot sticky walls. it is slow and intentional. your cunt is begging, needing and craving more. you cannot get enough of him.
you desperately rock your hips to meet his movements, to keep him inside.
surely you do beg. with broken whines and the most sincere pleas. when eren is satisfied, he swipes your tears and pounds into you until you see white. he wraps you in his arms and shoves his cock so deep you feel every inch.
until your head blanks and you are creaming around him but you do not want him to stop!
no, you want him to keep fucking your pussy, to keep slamming his hips into you until his head is seated between the walls of your cervix and he is shooting every bit of his load into your womb where it belongs.
until he groans, "i fucking love you," into the crook of your neck while fucking his cum back inside.
and you can say, 'i love you, too.' because eren is all you need.
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oh to be loved by eren
1K notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 10 months
Note
Sukuna pleeeeez, I beg. How scary-hot is he? How terrified is darling when sitting on his lap 😩😩😩
Ryomen Sukuna
TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, yandere, Stockholm syndrome
gn reader
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You’re not strong with cursed energy, but even you can feel the many lives Sukuna has basked in the blood of. 
You can feel it in his hands – how it seeps into your bones when he drags his crass fingertips upon your skin, making you nauseous – how a simple little touch has goosebumps springing to the surface and a whimper jumping to your throat. It feels hot, burning with warmth like freshly spilled blood – like he’s smearing it on you in red staining streaks, with the weight of thousands of deaths that make you feel like you're rotting too.
But he calls you the sweetest things, despite his raspy timbre – things like turtledove, angelface, lovebug, spiderlily. And keeps you close, on his lap, sitting skin to skin within his kimono so he can cuddle you tight. His chin resting atop your head and his hands holding you around the waist, sometimes falling to your thighs and further in between them.
That deranged malice he shows everyone else is lost on you. With you, he’s balmy – soft and warm and mellow in that very quiet, studious way. Seeming almost jaded if it weren’t for how he tugs you close to his chest – coveting you like something precious.
Sometimes it’s almost as though he forgets how to communicate with words – rubbing his face into the nook of your neck, kissing you gently – silently asking you to comply and spread your legs wider for him before he has to get ugly with you.
You feel a bit dirty bending to his wishes so easily, but he makes you feel like the most precious little bite-sized thing – touching you there until you're just soaking with sin. Licking those feeble moans from your lips like there’s no sweeter thing. Sinking his fat length inside your heat slowly, feeling you swallow him up – wanting to know every tight inch personally – nudging right against that special place inside you until your thighs quake from the squeeze.
He gets lost in you when he gets far enough to feel your walls ripple around the size of him – how your whimpers turn breathy, and your fingers curl into his flesh with want. 
He loves getting you there – to that point where you no longer care about what’s right and wrong – where the only thing you still care about is how good it feels to belong to him.
3K notes · View notes
oepionie · 1 year
Text
— "MY JOLLY SAILOR BOLD." tweels
💭masterlist | 💬ao3 link
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SYNOPSIS: You meet two mysterious yet beautiful mermen around your age and you ask them to sing for you. They agree—though there's one condition....they want a kiss in return. A fair deal and you decide that nothing could possibly go wrong....right?
⊹ [ cw ] — suggestive, making out, lovesick/slightly yan-coded behavior, both of them pin for you, drowning, the tweels deserve a warning themselves, fighting, mild blood and injuries, mentions of murder, everyone here is morally grey◞
⊹ [ tags ] — gn! reader, on my siren eel agenda, flirty pirate mc, siren-eels are not to be messed with but mc is reckless, jade and floyd having an ariel moment but they're…a fucked up version of ariel, typical siren-behavior, floyd calls you pretty◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 3.3k+◞
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WHAT AN ODD LITTLE pirate you were.
Raised by your mother, horrific twisted tales of the deep were practically bedtime stories for you. She was a former ship's captain and a seasoned sailor who had spent more than half of her life at sea.
Mother weaved tales of glorious bloody battles, of thrashing waves, and, most importantly, of dangerous creatures in the sea. Hatred and fear for these grotesque marine creatures have been indoctrinated in you since you were young. It was imbued to the very core of your being, hammered and nailed into your head.
Alas, it appears that you have entirely disregarded the cautions that were issued to you. Any capable pirate knew better than to invite merfolk around.
Especially if you were all alone on a ship.
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This year, spring had arrived a little earlier than usual, but you didn't mind at all.
It was at an obscene hour of the night when you were aimlessly paddling your little rowboat over the waves.
Floating a few feet away from your ship, you were gazing out over the sea where the waters were flat and serene, blue as far as your vision would allow. It was a sight you've grown all too accustomed to seeing.
You've sailed a hundred expeditions down this route and you were well aware of the carnage and bloodshed that’s been wrought here in the name of piracy.
A majority of which you've taken part in as—Captain (Y/N).
Young as you were, despite your youth, you had ambition. Already having established yourself as a living legend—or, as some have dubbed you, a living nightmare.
Sailors—young and old—have perished in your name, ships have sunk at your command, and your sword has spilt the blood of hundreds. You had amassed a great fortune from wandering merchants, and fellow pirates alike, all of which were misfortunate enough to fall upon your path.
These were tales and legends from bygone eras; the golden age of piracy had long since passed. Nowadays, you just cruise the sea anyway you pleased.
Adventure seldom found you.
In the middle of reminiscing, you abruptly became aware of a shimmering brilliance beneath the murky sea.
Oh?
'Maybe it was a trick of the waves? Or was it the moonlight's illusion?' You ponder to yourself as you stand at the stern of the boat and look out into the dreary waters.
The entire ocean sleeps when the moon is full. In the middle of the night, no fish or creature would dare remain thus near a boat...so what could possibly be out there?
Peering down, you make eye contact with a pair of glowing yellow eyes, slitted into diamonds.
Startled, the unknown creature slips back into the darkness with scarcely a ripple to disrupt the waves enveloping all about them. You're hypnotized by their shimmering skin as they moved smoothly and elegantly past the icy surfs.
In those short seconds while staring into the pitch-black sea, your mind conjures only one word.
Mermaid.
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STRANGE AND STRANGELY FASCINATING, it was. "It" being the obsessive infatuation the Leech twins had for you.
Since they were little, the two brothers have been watching you grow up on that ship, peeping at you behind rocks and tall clusters of brilliant coral.
Curiosity and an interest for humans drew them to you at first, so they thought nothing of it. However, later, as they grew older, that interest developed into something more.
One that made their hearts feel like it was going to burst, a blood-curdling carnage of red and pink spills gushing out in a splatter. With the mere mention of your name, their stomachs sink and turn. The hems of love along their hearts diving into obsession—both feelings closely akin.
Jade and Floyd haven't run upon anyone who was courageous enough to meet creatures like them. Though, they shouldn’t have expected anything less from a pirate like you with an astronomical desire for adventure.
As you waved down at them from the ocean's depths, both of them swiftly swam up to the surface, eager to meet you. Their hands were clamoring and their hearts were racing to a tune that sang praises for you.
"There you are." You grinned handsomely, cocking your head to the side. The flowing fabric of your blouse blew wildly in the fresh salty wind, exposing bits and pieces of your chest and neck for them to see. "Hello~"
Big love-tinted eyes peeked up at you, drinking in every feature, blemish, and scar on your flesh. Occasionally, your gazes would meet and they would quickly avert their stare—a deep blue hue creeping up their cheeks, almost as if they felt bashful around you.
Even then, you thought it would be more appropriate if you were the one who was acting timid.
Because, by the gods, their beauty was such a sight to behold above the waters. In all your years out at sea and land, you've seen no maiden nor man with such features.
Such captivating features.
Teal-haired, with keen, slitted eyes that were veiled with thick, drooping lashes. Cheeks colored with a pale touch of death.
They were breathtakingly beautiful.
There was an urge, a pull at your heart to dive down and join them—drowning yourself in their embrace. Though, you resisted, almost immediately recognizing the sorcery that pulled on your carnal desires.
Mother and weather-beaten sailors had warned you of this. This overwhelming want. This spellbinding stare. Yet as they both drift closer, the forewarned dangers vanishes from your thoughts like mist. You're now left with little more than a hazy consciousness as you see them approach your boat.
You are in grave danger yet you are not afraid. Fear does not grip you as you raise a leg over the side of the boat, swing it over the top of the wood, and then sit over the edge, never taking your eyes off the mermen in front of you.
Their entire body, apart from their eyes, were submerged in the water which made it hard to determine what their species were. Though you could occasionally catch the flicker of their tail slapping against the surface.
Speaking of their tail, it was an utterly resplendent sight! Even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to explain its magnificience as it gleamed brighter than any of the gold or jewels your sullied hands have ever taken hold of.
Its lack of a single color and its vivid, luminous nature fascinated you. Depending on how the moonlight hit it, it radiated a wide range of shades, from the deep tint of blueish teal to a rich shade of bluish jade.
"First time away from your home?" You rasp, waving a hand in the ocean, watching as small ripples curved against the water's surface, tides of the blue abyss travelling outwards.
Minutes pass, and yet you get no response.
"Hmm…you two don't talk much, do you?"
Jade and Floyd knew all about pirates, heard every story, whisper, and tale of the bloodthirsty monsters fueled by lust for gold and glory. And yet, they somehow struggle to picture you as the avaricious captain you were labelled as.
Still, while you appeared free and jovial, both of them could sense that you yearned for the thrill of danger, for life-threatening adventure, and for the many fantastic yet perilous things the ocean has to offer.
They exchanged glances, and at that instant, their plan was set in place.
Appearing docile, Floyd shook his head no, hovering near you and spinning around playfully.
"Awe, aren't you a cute little guy?" You cooed, running a rough hand along his back. The mer shivered, preening at your compliment.
"I really shouldn't be so close to you, though. Us pirates usually avoid approaching any merfolk since…they feel your methods, your ways of living are…" You trailed off, waving a hand in the air as you searched for the right words.
"Spooky?" Jade spoke out, swimming closer to you with a sinister glitter in his eyes. Breath hitching in your throat, you leaned towards him, an amused smirk slowly stretching across your cheeks. "Oh ho? You do talk."
"I can do much more than that." Jade purred, the tone of his voice sinking into a sonorous lull.
Well, you certainly can’t deny that something draws you to these two.
The predictability of your life on these seas has gotten boring to you. Gone were the days of bloodthirsty glory instead, it was always the same routine. Poring over the same ancient yellowed maps, loitering about the deck, and secluding yourself away in the vast sea.
You know your mother would be horrified by your actions, disgusted to see you mingling and, Poseidon forbid—flirting with these…mer.
Though you couldn't bring yourself to care. Speaking with these two was the closest thing to excitement you've felt in a long time.
"That's a pretty voice, love." The grin on your face lacks any of the warmth it had in the past few moments.
You tip your head back and giggle, raspy and brittle, "I heard a mer's song was, um, what did those bards call it? Ah, yes—A voice that is so alluring that men and women jump overboard in squadrons."
"Hauntingly beautiful, that's what the poets call you mermaids…" You hum, watching them slyly from your row boat while reclining back against the wood.
Gaze drifting down their body, your arms folded around your chest and your gaze turned half-lidded, lips curled up in a sensual, cat-like smirk. "…and I can see why. Haunted, I am."
Both of them go abruptly silent and you chuckle, staring at them through the wreaths of grey smoke that curled into fanciful hazy whirls from the foggy environment.
Floyd and Jade squirmed as they both felt the strong pull of their instincts, screaming at them to just drag you into the waters already.
Your conniving praises and silver tongue was starting to get to them. One more push and—
"Say…I've been meaning to ask," You murmur, and seem to take a moment to stare into their innermost souls.
"Can you sing for me…?"
Something snaps.
Floyd makes a low sound, somewhere between a trill and a growl, while Jade's eyes darken considerably. Beneath your piercing, ice-cold gaze, the twins felt their nerves prickle up like the flickering electric stings of a jellyfish. 
This is a dangerous game you're playing. 
"…You're quite the flatterer," Jade—ever so composed—is quick to snap out of it and smiles simply, tapping his talons along the wooden deck. "…I suppose I could grant you your wish. Though, there is to be an exchange for it."
"Hm? What's that, mate?" You looked up at your ship from your little boat, eyes darting to the windows of your chambers. "That ol' girl isn't new to the seas so there's quite a lot of stuff there. Maybe some of my treasures will catch your fancy—"
"No." Jade interrupts you, the shadow over his eyes returns. "…I do not wish for any treasure or gold. All I want is a kiss."
"A kiss?" You parroted, an eyebrow elevated and amused laughter peaking from your lips. "I have chests of golds and heaps of ruby-eyed jewelry; yet, all you want is a kiss, is that truly what you desire?"
"Yes."
"Nothin' more?"
Jade ponders and pauses for a while, before turning to face his brother. "Floyd, perhaps you want something as well?"
"I wanna kiss from pretty shrimpy too!" Floyd cooed, pursing his lips at you and imitating kissing sounds by hollowing his cheeks. His strong arms, taut with ripping muscle, are crossed over one other as it rests upon the rims of your boat.
"So, what do you say, Captain? Is it a deal~?" Floyd stretches out a hand expectantly.
And you take it.
"Deal." You smirk. "One kiss for each of you, in exchange for a song. Pirate's honor."
Not like the honor of a pirate was worth much anyways.
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The melody lifting from Jade's lips was somewhat familiar to you, yet it was of a faraway nostalgia. You couldn’t remember where you'd last heard it, but it felt…right. He had a voice that was velvety smooth; thick, and deep like a dream.
"Upon one summer's morning /  I carefully did stray," Jade sang, deep voice flowing off his lips in a sweet honeyed song—its melody lathering itself on your tongue. The saccharine taste of its imbricating rhythm obliterating every bit of skepticism you held towards them. "Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay."
"My heart is pierced by Cupid / I disdain all glittering gold." Jade continued, tucking the long dark strand of his hair behind his ear—leaning his head atop the rickety rims of the boat's mossy wood. "There is nothing can console me / but my jolly sailor bold."
"Come all you pretty fair mers, whoever you may be / Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea." Floyd hums along, lovingly tracing a hand up your arm. His voice was a lovely little thing; echoing deep throughout the air.
As expected, they sang beautifully, hauntingly; with an accent in a tongue native only to the sea. There was a mystical lull weaved into their voices—fitting to their titles as bewitching creatures of the sea.
"My heart is pierced by Cupid /I disdain all glittering gold." Jade stares straight ahead, his sapphire gaze alluringly fixed on you seated in front of him.
"There is nothing can console me…" Pushing himself up the wooden edge of your boat, the eel lures you over and you followed. "…but my jolly sailor bold."
As Jade's song came to its finality, he leaned in close and pressed a swift warm kiss atop your agape mouth, such tenderness in his affections—and that of heavily masked lust. The eel parted from you, nipping at your bottom lip and watching with unbridled delight as a flicker of pink hue glazed over your diluted eyes.  
"Come in the water, shrimpy~" Floyd cooed at you, claws reaching out to trace against the curve of the ships side. "We don't bite~"
Songbound, you leaned in towards the two and plunged in.
You don’t think about holding your breath.
The water was ice-cold and it strikes at you like a venomous bite. Yet before you could sink, two strong hands grasp at your waist, keeping you afloat in spite of the rough rocks of the sea. Jade was cradling you close to his chest, his hold firm and uncompromising while his tail encircled and bound your legs together.
"Hello, shrimpy~" Crooning, Floyd moved to rest his wet cheek against your tangled hair, talons pushing past the fringes of your damp torn-up shawl to rest against your thighs.
The slippery pads of his fingers trailed up to your torso; Travelling from your hips, past your corset, all the way up to your chest. The eel toyed with the drawstrings of your poet shirt before grasping it tight and yanking you forward.
"You're so pretty~" Floyd trailed his other hand up your neck, sharp talons feathering over your pulse dangerously. The eel craned his head down to meet you eye to eye. 
"I could just eat you up." The silky strands of his lashes fluttered against his lidded gaze as he leaned in close, breath fanning across your burning cheeks. Floyd pulled you into a deep kiss, loving the way you groaned against his mouth.
Chuckling against your lips, Floyd tightened his hold on your neck—his claws almost breaking skin, "You like that, shrimpy?"
You return the kiss, dazedly smiling against his lips before pulling away, lungs in desperate need of oxygen.
Floyd could see drops of water resting atop your swollen lips, and as your tongue darts out to wipe them, a fiery desire ignites in the deep curves and crooks of his heart. It didn't take long before he was diving in once more, lips pressing against the side of your neck.
While his brother was fixated on marking your skin, Jade hugged you from behind—affectionately cuddling into your hair.
The eel ran his hand up your throat and grasps your jaw with webbed hands to tilt your head backwards. He presses his lips against yours, the thick muscle of his tongue prying your mouth open before it darted in.
Floyd glides away from your form after a few minutes, leaving your neck sufficiently bitten and marked. He grinned excitedly and took your hands in his webbed ones, whisking you away from Jade.
You couldn't help but notice how he was gently dragging you away from the rowboat. "Say, shrimpy~ You ever wondered what it's like to swim under the sea?"
A flash of clarity hits you, shattering the enchanting spell that both mermen had cast upon your heart. You sensed danger as both eels started to close in, grinning ominously which revealed their fangs—long and dripping with thirst.
It seems that your fun little swim was over.
"I can't say I've ever experienced the pleasures of drowning—" you muttered. "And I don't intend to do so very soon."
The texture of their tails may appear solid and rough, but when you kick your legs at Floyd's, you immediately discover how the skin is supple when touched.
The sharp end of your worn boots cut at his silky luminescent skin, dragging along the scales of his flesh and leaving a deep cut in its wake. A small trickle of blue blood spreads into the waters and the eel hisses, darting away from you.
You try to swim away, but something—or rather, someone—gets in your way.
"My my, leaving so soon, pearl?" Jade quips, grin all-to-sharp.
In hindsight, it was foolish to interact with two mermen you hardly knew, especially ones who were taut with sharp teeth and firm muscles. Any pirate with half a mind would know to turn the other way and flee if these two approached them.
The mer both advanced to surround you, a mysterious glimmer swimming behind the haze of their duo-colored eyes.
A startling epiphany rushes over you.
As slippery as they might be, there’s no hiding the lethal sheen of pink in their eyes—especially not from you, a pirate who’s spent a fair number of their days hauling the cold dead bodies of lovesick sailors away from their watery graves.
These two weren't your run-of-the-mill mermen, no. You have heard about them before—in tales and legends.
Mermaids. Vampires of the sea. Water nymphs. Naiads. Sirens.
Many names, yet they are all the same.
A sighting like this is not unusual. This species of mer is mostly found in the deepest, darkest sections of the ocean, and they only come up to hunt at night.
It seems that you've walked right into their trap. Sailors were their easiest prey.
"Ah." You grit your teeth, a low, breathy snarl slipping past your swollen lips. "I should've known."
There’s a warm yet strong pressure against your shoulders and arms; followed by an odd feeling of heaviness as you were suddenly propelled down the water's surface. Webbed hands keep you pinned beneath the waves and you're suddenly all-too-aware of your body's exhaustion; of the salty liquid flowing past your tongue and the scorching gurgle that ignites your lungs as water fills it.
There's a ruckus around you, and you can barely hear Jade's voice, who was eerily calm in the midst of your murder. A bottle is then abruptly forced into your mouth, the potion within it spilling down your throat and leaving you disoriented.
It appears that today is the day that the monotony in your life finally ends. The pull of unconsciousness becomes too strong to resist, and the world darkens.
TO BE CONTINUED...?
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—TAGLIST:
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@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisoniousheart @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiyn @mayaaaeo @fluffimemes @awkwardspontaneity @phoneandchips @gussuri @mushroomchaos101 @rainybeebs @furoidoleech @lunavixia @heatofmyexoheart @veras-fanfic-reblogs @pianopuppygirl @cross-crye
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Under the Mistletoe and Have a Merry Christmas to everyone!
A christmas tradition but they visited your house before they go to their original homes, they all know that you are still stuck in the Ramshackle dorm so they all decided to visit you (some refused but joined anyway) just to gain something memorable for you. Keep in mind that you choose them~ Reminders that this is made for fun and not for extreme criticism points.
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First Years
A tease kiss on the corner of the lips goes to Ace, he would be the type to give you a tease but he would be embarrassed and bullies you a little bit to get on your nerves, but he is just a babygirl blushing mess.
The nervous wreck goes to Deuce with a kiss on the lips, he is shy but he would be give you a loving gaze if you gave him a kiss on the lips and will kiss your head lovingly.
The extreme embarrassed boi belongs to Jack, you can imagine being a complete mess even if its just a kiss on the cheek, you may not notice it but his tail was wagging so much that it clearly tells you that he wants more.
The blushing and giggling one goes to Epel, he would be surprised for a moment with a blush before he giggled and give you a kiss tho you might get ready to have a staring contest cause Epel will win.
The Sebek.exe has stopped working all thanks to your kiss on his lips, he would stop and will become a blushing mess. Tho you can think he can scold you but he gently scold you but he does enjoy the kiss.
Ortho is a strange case, he hides his lips under a metalic facemask but you can give him a kiss on the forehead, he will giggle in response.
If you like Grim, then you can give him pats, carry him for a kiss on the forehead. Just give him tuna since you can't sadly romance him.
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Second Years
Oh my poor Riddle who has to deal with his first or second or more kiss on the lips, his face would be a blushing mess and no one can stop him wanting more kisses from you... that is you two are in private that is after all he is "touched starve"~
Ruggie is pretty much sneaky, but he doesn't mind your kisses that much. He would be simply shock for a few seconds before he did find himself blushing before making you kiss him again.
Azul is cocky for a price of money sure, but he isn't THAT harsh~ After all he DOES have a crush on you to the point that he won't mind your lip kisses for free, after all, isn't it satisfying to see a blushing mess Azul~?
Jade is interesting, wondering why? He is a 50/50 chance of unfazed or a blushing mess when you give him a kiss. Depending on the kiss Jade will either kiss you or just stop working for 5 seconds, or he won't hesitate to experiment you for more kisses.
Firstly you will get squeezed by Floyd, if you want to save your own skin you need to kiss him so he can be gentle, tho that may lead him to tease you or give you more kisses with a blush on his face. You are the center of his attention after all~
Hmmm, is there a guide on how to make Kalim blush? If no you can still kiss him and he will giggle at that tho he isn't sure if can kiss you on the lips considering the shit he went through, but he does love you so he will kiss you.
Jamil is pretty much on two things, politely decline your kiss with a blush, or he will tease you for a kiss. Choose your words wisely so you can get the kiss you wanted~
This is interesting, Silver does look reserved but he does show his gentle gaze at you from time to time. Tho I would love to think that Silver would blush before he smiles at you before giving you a kiss on your lips~ <3
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Third Years
Trey is no that easy to fluster, but he would blush when you did give him a kiss on the corner of his lips. Tho you might want to watch out, especially he has that smirk on his face that would give you who knows how many kisses.
This is interesting you don't know what is on Cater's mind these days but that doesn't mean that he is immune to blush no no. All you need to do is to give him a kiss at the right timing the moment he tried to tease you with a kiss selfie. After all he kept the photo to himself if you give him the kiss at the right timing~
Taming a lion is never easy, especially when it comes up to Leona himself. Tho you can't make him blush so easily, after all it would take a while for him to blush when you catch him off guard with a kiss on the lips. (I wonder how will the Leona you know will react~)
Vil may be strict, but he not that worse than Riddle tho you kinda need to bring extra makeup-wait nevermind, Vil would be the first to give you a kiss on the cheek before your lips! He sure is interesting to put his personal difference aside just to give you a kiss~<3
Have you know that Rook would LOVE to give you endless compliments, even if you give him a kiss just to shut him up. He would be shock but...you better watch out, he won't give any mercy on your lips.
You may think that Idia is 100% shy to give you a kiss, well you are completely correct but its only on 99%. That 1% however is when Idia would be a bit bold to give you a kiss. tho that 99% is mostly him being a complete blushing mess and his hair was completely pink...cute <3
Malleus is pretty much an interesting case, given the fact that he is the tallest of the whole NRC. You might want to ask him to bend a little so you can give him a kiss on the lips, he would be surprise that's for sure but he won't hesitate to give you a long night of kisses~
Lilia is pretty much a box of surprises now that you think about it, tho he may tease you a times but he won't hesitate to give you a swift kiss on your head before teasing you.
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luveline · 6 months
Note
hi jade! can I make a request for kbd au, maybe one of the girls gets sick or is in the hospital and Steve and r trying to take care of her and the other girls but are worried themselves. pls ignore if you don’t like this love your writing:)))
ty for requesting! ily i hope this is ok ♡ kisses before dinner —you and beth spend some time in the hospital. mom!reader, 1.5k
“Mom?” 
“Yeah?” 
Bethie looks up in your lap with red-rimmed eyes, her eyelids puffy. They look so sore. You bring your hand up to touch her cheek. 
“When's everyone coming back?” 
You lean back in her hospital bed and pull her against your chest. “Soon, baby. So soon. Are you missing everyone?” 
“Yeah. Avery said, um, that she would let me,” —she rubs her little nose into your collar— “sleep in her bed with her when I go home.” 
Bethie will be sleeping in your bed for a while so you can keep an eye on her, but you let her believe it because she sounds very eager. 
For now, you aren't sure when she'll be going home, but certainly not tonight. She's having trouble breathing at night, and her skin warms yours with the intensity of a space heater. “You're not enjoying our big sleepover?” you ask. Four days and counting, you've slept here every night in chairs slumped over her lap or briefly in the foldout cot beside her. 
She was too sick to remember the first two days, but now she's getting better she's realised you're doing something strange together, and she may be poorly, but she seems particularly pleased to have your undivided attention. “I love it!” she says in a rush, prompting a wracking cough into your shirt. You rub her back. “Sorry.” 
“If you need to cough, you do it, baby.” You bring a tissue up to her mouth and clean away the spittle. “Don't be sorry. Cough all over me.” 
You hold her close. You didn't need Steve to tell you to take care of her to do it, but you can't get the memory of the run up to Beth's hospital stay out of your head.
I think– I think we need to take her to Urgent Care. His sickly terror, but his surety, too. Steve was gonna make whatever decision he needed to and you couldn't have stopped him (and wouldn't want to). By the time you called Robin to watch the others, your girl getting sicker and sicker, Beth couldn't keep her eyes open. 
Not you nor Steve nor Beth made it home that night. Steve, squinting with a migraine, had relented in the early morning. You'll stay and I'll go home, he'd said. You wouldn't call it selfish to want to be the one to stay, but it was selfless of him to volunteer to go home. He hasn't once asked you to leave her side. So you look after her for me, too. You have to do double. 
“Here, my love,” you murmur, bringing a sippy cup to her lips. Doesn't matter that she's too old for it. “It's just juice, don't worry. No more medicine.” 
“I miss daddy,” she says, pushing the cup away. 
“I know. He should be here any minute now, yeah? And when he comes he's going to be all worried and bossy about how you're feeling, so let's drink this juice. It'll make your voice less crackly.” 
“Is it crackly?” she asks, surprised. 
“Yeah, babe,” you say with a laugh, “it's like crunchy sugar, you can't hear it?”
“What?” she asks, giggling between little coughs. 
You hold her cup to her lips. She values her father's esteem for you, drinking her juice and settling back into your arms just in time for him to arrive. He has yet to be mad at you during this time, but you're sure he'd threaten violence if Bethie wasn't getting all the attention and care that could possibly be given. The first thing he says is, “Hello, my girl, how are you feeling today?” 
You try not to rush her out of your arms and into his, but he has company. Steve picks Bethie up from your arms with the same slow hesitance he'd hold a newborn, his lips quick to the top of her head. “Sweetheart,” he says softly, “hello,” before he goes completely silent. 
Robin stands behind him with your teeny tiny baby held in her car carrier with both hands, and Avery and Dove toddle in front of them with matching grins. You slink off of the bed and crouch down, nearly knocked on your butt as they rush you. 
“I missed you! I missed you so much!” you shower their cheeks with kisses before pulling them in for hugs. Over their heads, you give Robin your best smile. “How's she doing?” 
“She misses you. Or she hates me. Either or.” 
“You're the best friend in the entire world.” You close your eyes into the cuddling. “She loves you.” 
Steve sits down on the side of the bed and rubs Bethie's back, all but covering the short breadth of it with spread fingers stroking up and down. “You look better today,” he says. He speaks softly. You have to strain to understand him. “Did mommy give you a shower? You look sparkly clean.” 
Bethie curls into him. 
“I missed you,” he says. “I miss you every second you're not home, I can't wait for you to come home.” He looks up at you. You shake your head gently. “But how about this hospital bed, huh? This looks comfy. Can I lie down?” 
Steve lays down in the bed with Beth against his chest. He looks super tired, his eyes wrinkled in the corners and his jaw set in pain. Bethie rises up to squish her cheek against his. Steve makes a kiss sound. “Aw, Beth. Love you.” 
Dove wants to be on the bed —this is a vaguely new place to her and she's a toddler. She whines until you lift her up, while Robin puts Wren's car seat in a vinyl chair and sets about unclicking her straps.
“Is she feeling better?” Avery asks, holding up her hands. 
You walk into her outstretched arms. “She is. Not one hundred percent better, but better. She just needs to stay a little bit longer.” 
“How long?” 
“What did the doctor say this morning, Beth?” you ask with a smile. “Just one more night for checks. Then hopefully tomorrow we can all go home.” 
It takes a while to get everyone settled. Robin sits in one of the chairs and you the other, Wren placed in her car carrier to your left. Avery climbs into your lap, and you find no reason to dissuade her from sprawling backwards, her head under your chin. Steve hugs Beth with a palpable relief about him, though he holds Dove's hand when the smaller girl insists. It's surprisingly peaceful. There's nothing to do but wait for your girl to get better. 
“I missed you,” Steve says again, Beth hanging on his every word, “I can't remember the last time you spent so long away from home. Are you and mommy having a good time?” 
“My–” Beth struggles for words, her chest giving a weak wheeze, “my voice is funny.” 
“You think so?” He brings his legs up, eyes closing as Beth does the same. “Sounds the same to me.” 
You can't miss the way he's hugging her. You've never seen him so relieved. It lingers in his every touch, every word he says, even as he makes his silly jokes. 
Steve spends at least ten minutes like that laying with them before he looks up. “Ave, you still need the bathroom?” 
Avery jolts. “Thanks for reminding me!” She springs up on her feet. “Mom, will you come with me?” 
“Sure I will.” You stand with her, giving Wren a quick glance over before sidling up to the side of the bed. Steve looks up at you funny. “Steve?” 
“What?” 
You lean down to his ear. “Honey, will you stay with Beth tonight? Just so I can see the baby? I can't stand being away from Beth when she's sick, but I'm really worrying about her,” you whisper. 
Steve's eyes widen. “Are you sure?” 
He's not stupid. He knows what you're doing. 
You nod quickly. You could say a lot of things to him —of course I'm sure, you should've stayed two days ago, you've been so good letting me be here with her— but Avery tugs on your hand, winging, and you only have time to touch Beth's back. She'll be in good hands. 
Beth is upset to see you go that night, but she missed her dad. Steve hugs each of the girls in turn while Beth lays tucked in bed, even Robin, who laughs and complains about his touchiness and how it gets worse every year. You wait with them in your coat for your turn, sick to your stomach.
“I'll call you before nine,” he promises, squeezing you tightly. “You did such a good job, Y/N.” 
“...What, no joke about leaving it to the pro?” 
“I'm being thoughtful.” Steve kisses you, hugs you again, kisses you a second time. He can't decide what he's doing. “I love you. I'll see you in the morning.” 
You kiss his cheek. It takes you another fifteen minutes to leave, busy making Bethie promises. I'll see you tomorrow, I love you so much, brave girl, your dad's gonna take the best best best care of you ever. And then we're gonna spend the next week in bed so we can stop missing each other so much. 
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tiyoin · 2 months
Note
Twisted anxiety reader in a singing contest show (MHAHAMHAHAH) It would be a reason why she was singing in the woods.
✨ imagine✨
MC is feeling useless and unhelpful and just wants to pull their weight in supporting the dorm and stuff. Just overall trying to be more useful to Yuu.
So she overhears smth about a anonymous singing contest and the winner will get $5000 which for mc, Yuu and Grimm that's a lot of money. And 2nd and 3rd also has cash prizes. I think she goes for 2nd place ,so she has the money of 1st without the popularity of 1st. So she puts her fears to the side (🤨no she doesn't) to help her friend and cat.
I see this contest being an online voting type thing. Also celebs 😉 do go on the show to help promote it, to judge them and what ever else they do.
In the show they give the contestants a "wish"/ charm that can help them with their performance (enter ✨shimmers✨ & instruments magic that was talked about). It what makes the show popular
Now we give MC song/writing abilities. She honestly has a diary of kind. She needs it.( Torture her bout it later😈)
Now I'm sure we wondering how does this come into play
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THEY THINK THE SONGS ARE ABOUT THEM
They'll all find a way to connect the songs to themselves. If songs says an eye color or hair color the characters with said color goes crazy about it.
Enchanted by Taylor Swift is one that comes to mind as a song that everyone relates to.
Rook/ jade would send clips of MC singing on the show and "THIS IS THE VOICE I HEARD"
I have so many sub-plots for twisted singer reader.
Also I'm really glad to like hearing things like this. I was really nervous to send the asks.
More to come along at one point or another ☺️☺️
i immediately thought of “ivory skin and eyes of emerald green” from jolene and rook just going:
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shout out to @/a-twistedheartslonging because i WILL NOT stop using this cute little rook meme they made fldkaldkakwkdkxkakdkfhx
OH MY GOD READER IS SO NERVY AND SCARED AND THINKING SOOO MUCH ABOUT THIS SINGING COMPETITION AHHHHH
they’re physically reacting to thinking about it. they’re nervous tics come out (that happens to me, whenever i’m suppppper nervous i start chanting and get anxiety induced tics) and yuu and grim are getting worried because nothing has happened, so why are you so anxious?
OH MY GOD HAHSHSHAH IMAGINE THE WHOLE CONTEST IS FILLED WITH INTROVERTS HAHDHAHAHAH they all get to suffer at our expense
MUWHAHAHAHSHZHHAH AHHHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAH😈😈😈
*clears throat* anyways 🙂
reader : *sings enchanted*
ALL of the guys she made eye contact with that week: …so you’re proposing?
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OH MY GOD MAYBE ROOK AND JADE (for totally separate reasons) SEND IN A CLIP THEY TOOK OF Y/N SINGING AND SENDING IT TO THE SHOW BAHAHSHAHA
idk maybe there’s some super duper advanced magical technology (marvel’s equivalent of ‘quantum’) and y/n gets an invitation and they’re like????
I DIDNT EVEN DO ANYTHING YET
THE CELEBRITY ENDORSEMENT IS SOOO REAL-
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ROOK BRINGING VIL TO THE FOREST WHOSE GRUMBLING ABOUT HOW HE HAS HOMEWORK AND HOW THIS’LL THROW HIS SCHEDULE OFF-
“non non! roi du poison you must come with me avec hâte!” (with haste)
and they’re crouched behind a rock for a few minutes and vil is annoyed because rook is doing rook things again and he does not have time for this. especially not today because he has to find someone to endorse for the music show he volunteered to judge.
only problem: EVERYONE SUCKS OR HAS AN UGLY PERSONALITY!! vil is disgusted by the cockiness and the greediness of these… influencers who paid their way to be on the show.
it puts a horrible taste in his mouth, especially with how shameless they are to try and win his favor. he’s not some cheap executive they can bribe to put their foot through the door, especially with their lack luster… abilities.
vil almost called it talent, but you had to be good to have that.
just as he’s about to voice his complaints and leave, rook’s grip on his shoulder stopped him from moving and the finger to his lips stopped him from breathing. vil was visibly shocked because rook never put hands on him, especially like this.
there was a snap of a twig up ahead. rook’s forest green eyes flicked to the horizon a few times, head too, urging him to look.
and he’s more than pleasantly surprised to see… you- well as much of yourself that you would allow the watchful eyes of the trees see. your ceremonial robe covering your short stature.
rook looked at vil expectingly, but vil was still confused, so what if a student was in the woods? unless it was his own this was a problem rook should bring up to the other house wardens. and it wasn’t illegal, nor against the school rules so-
then, you started singing.
he couldn’t recognize the song. but he could recognize the passion. yes you were untrained and flat in a few sections but that didn’t matter. you were good, pitchy but good.
song after song, sometimes repeating a few as you danced and bowed your heart away.
he wasn’t sure how much time passed but it was a considerable amount since the sun that once well over the trees now peeked through the canopy and was gazing longingly at the moon.
cursing, you looked around, bent down to collect the things you brought with you, and scurried away towards another entrance towards the forest.
vil was quick to react, to follow but rook stopped him. looking down at his vice house warden with an incredulous look, rook only shook his head softly. there was a reason you were alone in the woods and not in the various music clubs.
this was your little secret.
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vil who WAITS for your submission so he can back you but you never submit… hm,
with a snap of his manicured fingers, rook is on it! maybe rook knows who you are, maybe he doesn’t, vil could really care less since the whole show is based off of anonymity.
(vil side eyes the influencers and other contestants who practically spell it out for the audience who they are so they can vote for them)
maybe to… put you on the right track vil has rook go to your little forest spot and place a flyer there, practically ENCOURAGING YOU TO SIGN. UP.
you think someone would get a hint right?
“huh, that’s weird… maybe i should change locations since someone else was here”
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that’s it. rook’s sending in your video and you’re getting a flyer stapled to the tree saying you’re accepted. yes yes this is because of your fairy god mother’s NOW SING
vil also giving y/n some song recommendations he thinks that are good, up until he sees you gently pull out a FUCKING LOADED BOOK from your backpack filled with songs.
yes darling those are great but lol at all the nice songs he gave you! they’re in your range too!!
vil slowly finding out who you are because he heard you hum a song in the hallways that only the mysterious ‘forest nymph’ (what a ludicrous myth the students came up with) sang.
and yes he’s shocked that the ramshackle neet (ouch vil 😿) has golden pipes.
THE CHAT ROOM IS NOW INVITE ONLY TO THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE HEARD THE ELUSIVE FOREST NYMPHS SONG!!! (i’ll cook smthn better i promise)
VIL THINKING WHAT TO SEND THEM TO HELP THEM IN A CUT THORAT BATTLE ROUND AND ROOK OFF HANDEDLY COMMENTING ‘if only there were an orchestra here to play along with their beautiful singing’
ERUKIA!!
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*cue golden instruments*
but in hindsight sight:
we’re gonna give her so much anxiety she’s not gonna know what to do😈 sorry pookie!! there’s no safe space at night raven college☺️🫶
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WICKED.
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MDNI, 18+ CONTENT
pairing: luke castellan x former camper!reader (godly parent not specified)
summary: even after leaving camp half blood to pursue your dreams of attending university, your loyalty to them has never wavered. that is until you stumbled into luke castellan again, of course.
warnings: mature themes, oral sex (m receiving)
note: a purely self-indulgent fic because i wanted to try my hand at writing smut
Luke Castellan was a wicked man.
An inexplicable thrill ran up her spine as he edged closer. Her mind immediately tried to navigate through the haze of excitement and anticipation before ultimately succumbing. She could not— could never fight against him. Perhaps that was her fatal flaw, her irrefutable and unwavering blindness to who he was.
He caged her against the wall, one of his hands framing her face while the other held his cigarette between nimble fingers. He looked away as he took a long drag. The embers of the lit head glowed a dazzling red— dangerous, mesmerizing, and enticing.
The Luke Castellan that stood in front of her was not the same child who was the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood, not the reliable senior counselor who could do no wrong; ultimately, he was vastly different from the person he was all those years ago. He was a man now— pristine yet still gruff around the edges, jaded, resentful, proud, and haughty.
You closed your eyes to breathe in the smoke as he exhaled. He made it so easy to prevent you from ever reconciling the truth of his identity, to accept that he was still the same boy who betrayed everyone around him in cold blood because he was too clouded by anger at the gods to do otherwise.
“How do you want it?” He whispered against your ear. You averted his gaze to him, and watched from your peripheral as he nuzzled your hair. The tip of his nose dragged along the warmth of the skin of your neck.
“Rough.” You responded without a moment of hesitation. Your hands grasped the open edges of his jacket, the leather material was smooth and malleable against your nearly frozen fingers.
He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at you. You saw the surprise in his stare, the want and desire hidden beneath the unreadable sheen of his eyes. His hand traveled up your skirt to your thigh. He rubbed gentle circles against your skin then stopped short at the curve of your ass. He squeezed at the fat then smirked when you flinched.
“Is that what you got up to when you left camp, hm?” He asked softly. He was taunting you. His fingers pulled at the edge of your panties. “Learned to be a slut. Is that it?”
You said nothing. You clutched him tighter when he traced the slit of your cunt through the fabric of your underwear. He followed up and down motions, the movements too miniscule yet the pressure enough to elicit a reaction out of you.
“Already so wet.” He whistled, impressed and amused by how quickly you responded to his advances. You bristled when the tip of his finger pressed into your hole. It was subtle, not enough to latch onto. “Tell me, is this all for me?”
You felt your muscles clench around nothing. You were all the more desperate to feel Luke against you, inside you, to let him have his way with you. You whimpered when he smacked you across the ass.
“Answer me when I ask you a question.” He tutted as he massaged the skin to ease the ruddiness. “Are you wet for me?”
“Yes.” You nodded your head with a small pathetic whimper. “Only for you.”
“Good girl.” He said. He moved his palm to rest against her inner thigh. His thumb continued to press against you. His other hand moved to your hip. “Take your shirt off.”
You quickly unhooked the buttons of your top. Luke’s eyes followed your movements, enraptured by your compliance. He chuckled when he saw the brassiere you were wearing— the little ribbon in between your breasts made it seem as if you were presenting yourself as a gift for him.
You felt another sharp slap across your bottom. “You’re just begging to be fucked, aren’t you?”
You gasped at the pain. You felt simultaneously pissed yet aroused by his comments, although you were completely aware that the former should’ve consumed you whole. You glared at him. “And you’re just proving you can’t, aren’t you?”
You saw his jaw tick in irritation. Luke stood at his full height, the difference between your statures suddenly all the more obvious. He looked down at you, his eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted. You felt something loom at the pit of your stomach— it wasn’t fear.
“You like it rough? Fine, you’ll take it rough.” His voice was deeper and more aggressive, commanding in a sense. “Get on your fucking knees.”
You didn’t need to be asked twice. You touched the ground to steady yourself then leaned against your haunches to wait for his instructions. You kneeled before him as if you were about to pray to the gods. Sadly, you weren't about to worship any of them for the timebeing.
“Open your mouth.” He said as he undid the buckle of his belt. The metal clung against the wall. You watched with pupils dilated in lust as he pulled his cock out— the tip swollen and glistening. He pushed it into your mouth, and you whimpered at the sudden intrusion. “Suck.”
You circled your tongue over the flesh of his cock. You teased and licked at the precum, relished in the salty and deep taste of him. You opened your mouth wider to accommodate for his size then immediately began to hollow your cheeks.
“That’s it. Take it.” Luke groaned above you. His hand wrapped around your head. He controlled your movements by each pull of your hair. He pushed you against him without restraint. “Fuck. So obedient.”
“Wonder what Chiron would say if he saw his precious golden girl being a complete slut for me.” He taunted further. His palm dug against the corner of your neck.
The complete silence of the quiet night was marred by the sinful sounds the both of you were making, hidden in an abandoned alleyway between a Brooklyn nightclub and an electronics shop.
You gagged as he pushed himself deeper into the back of your throat. Your fingers found their purchase on his thighs, your hands grabbed at him like a lifeline. You gaze at him through lidded eyes. You trilled in delight at the sight of him: head thrown back, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and his tongue licked at the corner of his lips.
Luke gasped breathlessly as you began to move up and down. He pried his eyes open to peek down at you. He smirked. His words were chopped as he spoke. “So perfect when you’re like this.”
Fueled by lust, bravery and foolishness, you willingly took more of him into your mouth. Your nose hit the base of his cock. You inhaled the heady scent of him, invigorated by it. You choked as you adjusted to the new angle, but he canted his hips instantly. His breaths were ragged and his movements were desperate.
“Ah, shit.” He mumbled. His hand still grasped the back of your head; he pulled you in closer. “I’m close. Gonna come in your mouth and you’re gonna fucking take it.”
He continued to curse and babble as he rutted into your mouth. You closed your eyes as you took in the sensation, as you felt every vein and the ridges of his flesh flush on the flat of your tongue. You felt your own slick trickle down your thighs; empty, uncomfortable and wretched.
He tensed and stilled underneath you. A slew of warm liquid flowed into your throat. You maintained eye contact with him as you swallowed every last bit.
Luke slid himself out of you, his mouth hung open as he tried to catch his breath. He huffed as you made a show of licking off the remnants of his spend from the corners of your lips.
His thumb caressed your cheek. The gesture almost seemed affectionate were it not for the words that quickly followed it. “I’m gonna take you home then I’m going to fuck you all night long.”
Luke Castellan was a wicked man.
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jimmytimmyjames · 4 months
Text
a post i saw likening joel and scar in their "villainy" in the life series has prompted me to finally express in writing how much mr. goodtimeswithscar terrifies me.
you see. joel and scar have both played the role of the "villain" in the life series (last life, secret life) and, outside of the instances in which they played those roles, are still liable to cause destruction and kill people. imo, despite this similarity, they give off very different vibes.
joel is straight-forward. he enjoys chaos and is liable to stab someone in the back for fun, and everyone knows this. if you aren't engaged in an unusually strong allyship (the bad boys, the mounders) with him, don't trust him. he will murder his own wife for the hell of it. this simplicity makes him entertaining to me, even though i sometimes don't vibe with the way he acts in these series. i expect this behaviour. the expectedness makes him less scary. also making him less scary is the fact that, while he can do serious damage, he has a tendency to make stupid and rash decisions and to kill himself with his own traps. he is a double-edged sword. for every bit of damage he deals to someone else, he deals damage to himself also. a cringefail little guy whom i can only take entirely seriously on certain occasions. not exactly, but quite like a chihuahua - aggressive, evil for no reason, with a lethal bite if it manages to get its teeth in you, but, at the end of the day, a chihuahua. (sorry for the stereotypes. not all chihuahuas, i'm sure.)
mr. goodtimes, on the otherhand, is volatile. i do not know what is going on in his head at any given time. i cannot tell when he is going to act perfectly cordially or decide to burn someone's house down or take a shot at them just to see if he can do some damage. that man is simultaneously perfectly innocent of any crime and completely guilty of all of them, and this quantum state in which he somehow manages to exist makes my hairs stand on end. it is exacerbated by his persona. i do believe that scar gets himself into Situations by accident and isn't putting on a front with regards to his cringefailness. however, he is - at the same time - as sharp as they come. like, scarily calculating. he is the goof character who turns out to be jaded and merciless inside. he will laugh with you, which turns to laughing at you, which turns to shooting you in the head, all the while keeping up this sense of goofiness and half-fake friendliness. bro. it has gotten to the point that seeing his skin evokes within me a deep-seated sense of unease. his eyes, man. his eyes. grian is the same. there is nothing behind those eyes. however, grian lacks scar's redeeming little meow meow factor which endears him to me. grian's just straight-up evil. i don't even trust grian when he's teamed with the person who's perspective i'm watching. (yes, btw, i watch jimmy's pov)
this is why desert duo gives me nightmares btw.
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ppnuggiex · 10 months
Note
Howdy! I saw requests were open, but if not then please do ignore this one!
It's kinda crack? But mostly angst to comfort, essentially something goes wrong in reader's alchemy class and they get hit by an extremely strong spell that makes it seem as if they're dead, but really they're just in a super deep sleep. So once the spell wears off, they wake up right in the middle of their own funeral cuz everyone thought they were dead. Gender neutral pronouns for the reader with riddle, kalim, malleus and floyd as the love interests! In headcanon format as well pretty please!
      TWST x gn reader
    『 riddle ,, kalim ,, malleus ,, floyd ,, gender neutral reader    』
  -> reader gets hit w/ heavy deep sleep spell n characters think theyre dead
  — fluff ,, sfw ,, crack ,, a bit of angst
  — this ended up being a little more on the humorous side 😭
- kalim
| • hes so distraught ,, hands on his head as he freaks out and shakes you violently . jamil finds out and facepalms . mr crewel told him nothing was wrong ,, to just give you time but kalim couldnt .
| • he swore you had died ,, and because of that he done held a big fancy funeral . he done invited all the dorms and everything .
| • you woke up when he was in the middle of talking about how you were such a nice and loving partner ,, how he wished you didnt have to die this soon .
| • get this man a tissue bc he starts bawling when you whip that coffin open .
- riddle
| • hes a bit more calmer than kalim in this situation ,, taking care of you whilst you sleep . but he always felt like something was off .
| • that was until one day he went to check up on you ,, your skin was oddly cold and he couldnt feel your breathe or see your chest move when you did breathe .
| • he may or may not have panicked at that point ,, checking your pulse and not feeling anything .
| • riddle thought the spell done killed you then ,, after all you didnt have any sort of resistance to magic so it was a possibility .
| • cue him tending your funeral and trying his best not to start crying in front of all those people .
| • you were his partner ,, his life and joy and now youre gone . or so he thought until you threw that coffin door open and smacked the person speaking right in the face .
| • and standing up in the coffin and falling face first out .
- malleus
| • bro acted the same as kalim . he did not stop to think about checking your pulse or anything . his immediate reaction was that you died . and all the sudden it started to rain very hard .
| • he starts acting like a child who lost his mom ,, panicking and shaking your body as much as he could .
| • then he pulls out some shakespeare typa shit ,, going on about how woe is me ,, my beloved hath died ,, taking from his grip as your soul was dragged away from him .
| • he has a small funeral for you ,, ready to speak for you when a miracle happens .
| • you awaken !! malleus is so shocked he gets a little teary eyed ,, running over and making sure youre okay before getting all baby girl .
| • in the end you walk out carrying him bridal style whilst sebek is fretting over his image .
- floyd
| • he thought this was one of those pranks people do to their pets . where you record yourself pretending to be dead to see what your cat does or something .
| • so he kinda ,, kicked you a few times and is all like ,, wake up shrimpy this isnt funny .
| • then jade has to break the news of the possibility you mightve been struck too harshly by the potion and maybe youre just ,, yknow ,, passed on .
| • floyd refuses to believe it ,, you couldnt have left him . you wouldnt do that to him . you wouldnt abandon him like that .
| • as much as he hates to admit it ,, he definitely cried a bit that night . he shows up for the funeral ,, still in disbelief youre dead .
| • but boooyy is he whipped when you ended up being asleep . he doesnt care who’s there ,, he runs over and rips you out that coffin so fast .
| • blames you for worrying and leaving him ,, and makes you promise not to do something like that again .
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yanderenightmare · 10 months
Note
idk if you write for naoya but i have an idea...maybe darling is like maki but actually weak and naoya bullies and takes advantage of them?
love your work btw!! <3
JJK ! IMAGINE
Zenin Naoya x maid ! darling
TW: yandere, mentions of abuse, bullying
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Proposal Gift
Sharp hazel eyes follow you in your innocence, narrowing while he judges – concluding once again, as he’d done before, that there really isn’t a single cursed bone in you – only a humble body of warm squeezable flesh and a heart he bets is all too easy to break.
You’ve always been like that. Quick to smile and quick to cry. A bundle of emotions unfit to be raised in such a ruthless clan.
He’s a few years older than you and remembers well what a weak constitution you’ve always had. Anyone could see it, and everyone knew it from the moment you were born – you were never going to amount to much.
He used to find your weakness quite disgusting – used to push your face into the gravel until snot and tears would wet the dirt in a pitiful puddle – with his foot pressed down between your shoulder blades – sometimes until hearing a pop and shriek loud enough to echo off the walls. With words cutting even deeper – telling you what a curse you were, born so weak and so useless – a stain on the great Zenin name.
But now that you’ve grown up, he bites his tongue – silently watching with a strange type of lusty entitlement forming in his gut…
He’s only been away on a mission for a handful of months – who’d have known he’d come back to see you grown into something so… precious.
You’re the prettiest out of the maids – the cutest one too, and undoubtedly the sweetest as well. Walking about the garden where you have most of your chores – watering plants in the sun and picking herbs for healing. You’re quiet and graceful, taking slow steps in your plank shoes that knock softly on the tiles where you peacefully wade through the maze in a pretty flower-patterned yukata.
You look nothing like the snot-nosed brat he’d left in the dirt. You have a swell of breasts now and a feminine face wiped clean of soot – painted with pretty red on your lips and fresh blue on your eyes.
You’re a lady now.
And while your weakness used to disgust him, he’s now realizing what a blessing it is instead. Smirking the more he glares at you – now sitting on a bench in the shade doing some hand stitching, knowing no ill will – he understands he’s quite lucky you turned out such a fragile little thing.
“Naoya-sama-” You spluttered, eyes widening into big round glass orbs.
Jumping to your feet, you nearly threw your needlework down on the bench before folding your fingers together and bowing – much lower than necessary – with a rush that could only be excused with fear.
You hadn’t known he was back yet and felt the surprise like a vice grip wrapped tight around your throat.
Swallowing thickly, you made your excuse while maintaining your bow, praying he’d show you mercy. “Pardon my lack of awareness- I was absorbed in my chores, you see- please forgive me-”
He folded his hands within his pants and raised his chin with a smirk at your spluttering, licking his teeth in enjoyment at your pretty display of courtesy. Eyeing you for a long moment before speaking, mainly to watch you begin to tremble in the wait – cutely dreading the bite of his punishment.
But punishing you wasn't what he was interested in at the moment.
“You’re not in maid robes.” He said instead, ignoring your previous stuttering. His face, jaded with a tone just as callous, aided by that weighty air of authority he always has surrounding him – the one that never fails to make your skin feel raw in the cold.
“Oh-” You fumbled, halting at his lack of anger – wary of the unexpected behavior as it was pretty odd for him not to jump at the opportunity to punish someone like you if and when the chance presented itself.
Though, it wasn’t yet decided he wouldn’t do just that – the way his steely and strangling presence nearly knocked you over with its vicious intensity alone – staring you down sharply with that otherwise smooth hazel.
In return, you had your doe-eyes yielding and down-cast, eying your fabrics with a bite to your lip – trying to keep your voice from shivering while uttering the next line, heat in your cheeks while at it. “These are- uhm- proposal gifts I’ve been asked to wear.”
He snorted at that, and you flinched at the abrasive sound – eyes shifty while eyeing the ground, lowering your head some more, looking down at the paint on your toenails instead.
“From whom?” He asked a beat later.
Your brows pinched at his curiosity and how awfully unlike him it was. Naoya-sama had never struck you as the type to make trivial conversation, especially with the likes of you. 
“I’m- uhm- not exactly sure…” You confessed, twiddling your fingers. “You see, Father doesn’t want to confuse me- after all… it’ll be his decision in the end, anyway.” 
You kept your head bowed while explaining, feeling awkward before him. Trying to think of a time when he’d paid any type of regard to you or your life – remembering none.
“B- but my marital status must be of no interest to you, Naoya-sama.” You blurted then, finding it to be a rather strange matter to discuss with him of all people.
But all the man responded with was a slight hum, keeping his gaze on you and the way you timidly glanced up at him only to look away when seeing him stare back. 
Ears burning, you chewed and sucked your lip under his glare, thinking of how badly you’d witness him beating other maids – having needed to treat many a cut and gash and bruise and broken bone he’d left on bodies much smaller than himself – not to mention the ones on your own frail self he’d given you in your youth. 
“Please excuse my arrogance-” Your memory prompted you to gush. “Doing anything but welcome you home from your mission is rude of me- I heard you lead our clan into many victories- you must be very proud.”
You decided to try you r luck charming him instead, hoping it could sway him from the urge to hurt you.
“Or maybe it doesn’t come as a surprise anymore. You’ve always been rather strong, after all.” You continued but choked on it only a second later – spurring with yet another apology on your lips. “That was thoughtless of me to say- you should feel proud either way- please forgive me for my stupid words, Naoya-sama- I fear the heat has gone to my head and made a complete airhead out of me…”
But despite the obvious hints of regret and panic in your draining face, the man gave no indication of even having heard what you’d said until offering your ramble another rather unusually relaxed response.
“It’s true.” He agreed – much to your surprise, where you’d braced your face for a backhand and your stomach for a gut punch. “It’s become boring.” 
You dared glance up at him through the lashes of your bow – only to see his face still as expressionless as always – a type of stone-cold that made the hairs at your nape rise.
“Still… you must be tired from the trip, if not the mission” You softly started in spite of it – hoping to end the conversation soon. “You shouldn’t stay out here in the sun for too long…” You tried, praying he couldn’t see straight through your intentions. “And- uhm- I should really hurry along- help prep supper for you and your soldiers with the other maids.” You excused, once again bowing your head, waiting for his nod of dismissal – ever relieved when he gave it.
You swallowed your tremors, feeling lightheaded and dizzy while offering up whatever type of smile you could muster.
“It was good seeing you, Naoya-sama.” You lied. “Welcome home.”
You bowed yet again, dismissing yourself before turning and leaving him.
He kept his eyes fixed on you despite it. Observing the distressed spring in your step and how it disturbed the former peace you walked the gardens with earlier. 
A smile inched up his face watching it.
You look very nice in his proposal gift.
He looks forward to having you in his bed.
tip-jar: Kofi
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oepionie · 1 year
Text
JAZZ NIGHT. draconia & ashengrotto
Sypnosis: Monstro Lounge was hosting a new event! "Jazz Night" where the ramshackle prefect herself was rumoured to perform. Boys flocked to the lounge in droves, eager to hear her sing. Though, it seems that her performance has touched a special someone.
Character/s: Azul Ashengrotto, Malleus Draconia x Fem! Lounge Singer! Reader
Tags: Fluff! Established relationship, Lilia plays the guitar, Azul is so in love with you he nearly faints, The tweels bully tease shy Azul, Malleus holds so much love for you awee, Bitter Sebek, A bit of possessive Mal?
Word Count: 1.5k+ | 💌Masterlist
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Tonight, Monstro Lounge was jam-packed with customers. They were all scurrying around the place like lost guppies while looking for open tables.
Warm, vibrant lights illuminated the aquariums, filled with all types of unique vibrant fish. The massive tanks encircled a sizable stage which was outfitted with magnificent decorations and a live band.
A unique promotional night was being hosted. "Jazz Night," a special occasion that the prefect of Ramshackle introduced.
Though the strange 'earth' event wasn't what really drew the massive crowds in. Their curiosity was focused on something else. It was the fact that the prefect herself was going to be performing.
Once that news got out, people practically stormed the lounge, nearly shattering the glass doors and windows down. It was a whole tsunami of students willing to spend their entire life savings just to hear the girl sing. Azul was swimming in money, the happiest he'd ever been in his life.
It took an hour but with everyone finally settled down, the lights dimmed and the live band started playing. All that was left was for the star of the show to come out.
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A.A| AZUL ASHENGROTTO:
The velvet folds of red drape curtains parted and you cautiously stepped out, clutching the long skirt of your dress securely in your hands. You were dressed to the nines in a dazzling purple evening gown paired with matching shell earrings; the costly ensemble entirely paid for by Azul.
The crowd cheered as you took your seat up front the stage, blinding spotlight illuminating your form. Amidst the crowd of teenage boys, you scoured the area for a certain trio of mer-men.
Azul was seated in the far back with both Jade and Floyd beside him. He was tense and frozen stiff; much like the stash of popsicles Floyd kept hidden deep in Octavinelle's fridge.
You noticed how his face was dusted in a pink flush as both Floyd and Jade whispered in his ear, identical devilish grins plastered onto their faces. Azul burned a deeper red with each passing comment, eventually taking solace in burying his face into his hands.
'They're toying with him again…' You sighed at their antics, a wistful smile on your face.
So caught up with watching the trio, you nearly missed the drummer's cue for you to begin. You took a deep breath and adjusted the microphone to your liking. The crowd appeared to blend together, packed with the eager faces of boys looking directly at you.
Fluttering your lashes, you cast a glance at Azul, smiling, as you slid your fingers up the microphone stand. "You had plenty money in nineteen-forty-one. You lost it all, and then where'd you run? Why don't you do right like some other men do?"
The octo-mer knew he got embarrassingly soft around you. Even now, the only reaction he can muster in response to your singing is awe.
"You sittin' down wondering what it's all about. If you ain't got no money, they will put you out." The aquarium lights cast a delicate lilac glow on your skin, accentuating your delicate features. Lovely honeyed singing overflowing from your glossy red lips.
Azul's voice was caught in his throat, almost as if you had a tight grip on his neck, wringing it firmly to constrain his breathing and leave him gasping for air like a fish out of water. His head swirls as he shakily exhales, feeling so lightheaded, he was on the verge of passing out.
"If you had prepared 20 years ago, you wouldn't be wandering now from door to door. Why don't you do right? Like some other men do~?" There was a sickeningly sweet smile on your face as you sneaked glances towards him, fixing him with the affectionate gaze he always felt undeserving of.
"Heh heh, her choice of song seems to be intentional." Jade noted, a smirk on his face as he examined Azul's dazed state.
"Eugh, Jade- He's so down bad." Floyd squinted his eyes, slowly digging his finger into the flesh of Azul's cheek. The octo-mer had no reaction.
He continued to poke his boss' cheek, but there was still no response. Azul stayed still, a sappy, cheesy look on his face that made Floyd gag.
"Why don't you do right? Like some other men…do~?" You sang, drawing out the final words as the song came to an end.
Your face was flushed with delight as the audience applauded, a mix of shouts and whistles ringing out through the entire lounge.
Azul, who is only dimly aware of the scorching hot blush on his skin, knows that these feelings will linger with him throughout the day and into the night. Still, he went on, slack-jawedly looking at you in a lovesick stupor.
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M.D | MALLEUS DRACONIA:
One of the guitarists on stage was none other than the old bat from Diasomnia. Earning his spot after he twisted Azul's arm into letting him join the performance. There was no way Lilia was going to pass up an opportunity like this.
He peered around the room for a certain dragon, scouring the crowds of people squeezed into the cafe. As soon as he spotted Malleus, he grinned wryly. "Oh, Malleus dear, you're going to love this."
Lilia could never forget the look of astonishment on Malleus' face when Azul handed him the invitation, he looked like a golden retriever being presented with a bone; it was adorable.
The fae was ecstatic to be invited to an important occasion, given how uncommon it was for anybody to contact him. The added notion that he would be able to witness you perform made him practically tremble in excitement.
"There are a lot more people here than I thought." Malleus muttered, examining the invitation in his palm.
"It seems that they're curious to hear the human's voice, young master!" Sebek exclaimed, arms crossed across his chest as he smirked. "I doubt their singing could reach your standards!"
"Don't be mean Sebek…" Silver drawled, slumping against the plush sofa, fervently fighting to stay awake. His eyes flitted over to the stage, seeing the lights dim as a spotlight appeared. "Oh? Is it starting?"
Malleus jerked his head up to see you emerge from the velvet curtains, dressed in a body-hugging black evening gown. He glowed with pride when he saw the necklace he gifted you proudly sitting atop your neck, its green gem glimmering beneath the lounge's lavender lights.
Once you neared the front of the stage, you eagerly waved at him, and he chuckled before returning the gesture. After eyeing your interactions, Lilia struck a few notes on his guitar, the rest of the band following suit.
"Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'~" Malleus beams as you turn to him and smile, seeing the way his eyes crinkle in mirth while missing the way Sebek rolls his eyes at the loving gesture.
"Birds singin' in the sycamore trees. Dream a little dream of me. Say 'Night-ie night' and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me." You sang, eyes fluttering close before you opened them to peek at Malleus.
"While I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me~" Honey-saccharine, sweet yearning, driven by his affections for you, pours from Malleus' eyes.
In truth, his gaze was overwhelming, the amount of love he was able to convey in a single glance astounded you. It's the kind of love that you wished to cherish for all eternity—one that is as exquisitely as sweet and lovely as the fresh roses in a garden.
"Stars fading but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss." Malleus finds himself longing for your undivided affection and your entrancing voice. He's fed up with the crowds surrounding you and wishes to be alone in your company, to experience the pleasure of being the only one who can hear your voice.
Still, he allows you to continue your little performance, loving the way you looked so carefree as you swayed to the beat of the music, losing yourself in the song.
"But in your dreams, whatever they be…dream a little dream of me~"
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"I'm going to bash someone's head in." Floyd snarled, plopping down onto a bar stool. He's been shoving people down chairs for the past 5 hours but they still kept on coming.
"Azul~! Why is the entire school here?! No way I'm gonna serve all these people!" He whined, smashing his face down the bar table and banging his fists.
"I already told you. It's because of our new event." Azul said, bringing out his laptop and displaying a document outlining the night's financial numbers.
"Incredible—! I increased the price by 20 times what we normally charge, and people keep coming! I didn't expect the prefect to bring in this much profit!" Azul exclaimed as he typed furiously on his laptop, a giddy smile on his face. Floyd lifted his head off the counter and gawked at the octopus.
"There are more coming?!"
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A/N: This was a request! Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!
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