Tumgik
#takin whatever names i like
casreturns · 10 months
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lovelyghst · 4 months
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ghost has such a vast array of names he calls his sweetheart in bed, but the one that won’t leave my mind is porn star. just listen ok—
he doesn’t even mean it in a degrading way, whatsoever. teasing, maybe, but never outright cruel. he just loves admiring you and your aptitude; your willingness to break a sweat when you’re on top of him, your resilience when he asks you if you need a break and you shake your head fervidly because he hasn’t reached his peak yet.
he absolutely adores all the noises you make. the soft and dulcet hums in your throat when he’s making love to you, to the rapid huffs of air being pushed directly from your lungs when he grabs your hips and uses you like how you begged him to. god, and your expressions? your smile as you unbuckle his belt, and your giggles when he flips it around on you and sneaks a hand beneath your skirt. even when you’ve been fucked utterly dumb, you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. it’s all so erotic to him, like it belongs on film.
and so he eventually comes through to just that, taking out a camcorder that happened to be lying around; one that he definitely didn’t purchase for the exact purpose of filming a little sex-tape with you, certainly not ordering it online behind your back or anything.
you happily put on a little show for him, with the lively energy in your voice turning sensual and your exaggerated reactions that soon become all too real. the lens staring you down from above as he takes his time with you, cooing at you the tenderest of praises whilst breaking you down to a shuddering mess beneath him before he even gives you his cock. slowly massaging your aching pussy, past your hiked up dress and through your cotton panties, just to drag his hand up your body and have you suck on the very thumb that made the soaked spot on your underwear. he’s such a mean, mean tease.
he’s enamored with the way your cunt stretches to fit his cock, especially how it shows up on the small screen of the camera. each ridge dragging against your soft flesh wrapped so tightly around him, to the point where his breath is hitching in his throat and he’s failing to suppress those faint groans and swears spilling past his lips.
“makin’ all these depraved noises for me, and no shame you’re bein’ recorded? already fucked you that stupid, ‘ave i, sweet girl?”
you moan unabashedly at that, words that should be demeaning only hitting you right in the sweet spot. you can no longer keep your eyes on the lens above you, reaching out to grasp at the wrist connected to the fingers circling your raw pussy as you plead with your brows. you’re so overwhelmed, though enjoying it far too much to quit.
wrapping your legs around his back and pulling him in closer, eyes rolling back. swollen lips falling further agape and making him chuckle lowly. he goes on ramming his cock into the sticky mess of your cunt, thumbing your clit to push you over so that the last thing your fuzzy mind will hear is him calling you his favorite nickname:
“my pretty, little porn star… takin’ everything she’s given, ‘n with no complaint. just like a good actress does, right, baby?”
he spurs you on, grinning huge behind the camcorder he holds when you hum and nod along with whatever he says. you pull his free hand into your own, lacing your fingers with his; he always grounds you so well after he’s spun you higher than a ballerina. dazed and content, and simple happy to give him something to watch while he’s away. you never have to act when you’re with him, but you can’t help the butterflies swarming your tummy whenever he praises you for it.
“there’s my good fuckin’ girl… now smile for the camera, princess.”
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osaemu · 5 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: some other streamer's been buying you gifts, but satoru knows he can spoil you better.
contents: fem!reader. kinda sorta clingy!gojo. more toji slander hehe. inumaki and megumi gang up on gojo. like always. oh also you guys kiss on camera! tagging @sutorus and @yunymphs ꨄ︎
author's note: ughhh he's such a pretty pathetic loser i wanna shake him silly :(
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"oh, satoru, someone sent me another gift!" you say with a smile, beckoning him over to look. satoru hops off his chair and looks over at your computer screen, resting his chin on the top of your head. "look, it's the skin i said i wanted! i wonder who sent it to me, huh..."
satoru shrugs and dips his head to kiss the side of your face. "coulda just asked me for it, y'know," he mutters, eyeing the username that had apparently sent you the gift.
you ignore him and gesture at the time on the top-right corner of your screen. "isn't your stream starting in a couple minutes?" you ask, tilting your head. satoru nods and pulls away, shaking his white hair out of his eyes before walking back over to his monitor. and just a minute or two later, he's live and chatting with his early viewers.
"hey, suguru," he says with a grin, waving at the screen when his close friend joins. "you wanna join my team for today? the match's gonna start in a couple minutes."
suguru-geto: yea sure one sec
satoru spins around in his chair a couple times, and he blows a kiss at you every time his chair faces your direction. and every time, you humor him and catch his kisses. eventually, he stops spinning around in circles and starts actually interacting with his viewers.
inumaki: i hate gojo's streams
inumaki: you just stare at your gf for half of them
inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.
"anyways. suguru, you ready yet?" satoru says with a grin. suguru replies with a thumbs-down in the chat, and satoru groans impatiently. "what are you even doing that's takin' you so long?"
suguru-geto: taking care of something
"whatever," satoru grumbles, slouching down in his chair and spinning around one more time. "hey, chat, y'wanna know a funny story? i could use your help on it too."
the comments explode with various forms of affirmation, and satoru turns his head and winks at you. "so, lately, some random account's been sending my girlfriend everythin' she could ever want. skins, coins, you name it. what does that mean?"
he ruffles his hair with one hand and drums his fingertips on his desk with the other, surveying the replies from underneath his long, white eyelashes.
sho-ko: some guy wants her sooo bad
yuuji-itadori: maybe the person's just being nice! :)
satoru makes a face at shoko's comments and scowls, sitting up and leaning closer to the screen. "i dunno if the guy who's sending my girlfriend gifts is here right now, but if you are, you better not think that you have a chance with her. 'cause you don't!"
you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your face at satoru's indignant words, and when he turns to you, you just can't help but laugh. he's so sweet, even and especially when he does his best to gatekeep you. but ever since he brought you onto his stream for the first time, you've been an instant fan-favorite, so he can only hide you for so long.
satoru scrunches up his face at you childishly, and you draw a heart in the air right back at him. it makes him smile ruefully, and his eyes light up when you blow a kiss at him. he turns back to his screen determinedly and raises an eyebrow at the latest comment.
sho-ko: do u have the guy's username? cus you can find out who it is that way
"oh, it's... hard to say. rio-zuku?" satoru tries, squinting his eyes. "i don't know, whatever. you guys know him?"
megumi-fushiguro: dyou mean ryosuku? i hate him
yuuji-itadori: oh i don't like him either :( hes mean
satoru scoffs and puts his feet up on his desk, rolling his cerulean eyes. "he can't be more famous than me, so whatever."
megumi-fushiguro: he gets 100k views per stream
"well, he can't be a better gamer than me," satoru replies dismissively, waving his hand.
kugi-saki: didn't he win the val championship last year?
"but i bet i'm hotter!"
toji-fushiguro: you wish
"fuck you, toji," satoru huffs indignantly. "well, how haven't i heard of this guy? if he's so famous and so hot, huh?" ignoring your snickers, satoru switches to another tab and types in the username. but when he clicks on the first link, nothing shows up. it's a blank profile, and satoru's jaw dropped.
"how the fuck am i blocked?!" he whines, flopping his head back on the headrest of his seat and pretending to faint. the chat floods with a thousand expressions of laughter, and you hop off your seat to go sit on the desk of satoru's desk, taking care to stay out of sight of his camera.
satoru opens one eye and squints it at you, lips forming a childish pout. he reaches out and twines his fingers with yours, completely ignoring his exploding comment section. you squeeze his hand gently and reach over his keyboard, hitting a key to mute his microphone.
"i can block him if you want," you offer, wrapping your other hand around satoru's. "and, for what it's worth, i think you're prettier than him."
satoru grins smugly at that, eyes softening more and more the longer they focus on you. "m'kay, thanks... wait, how do you know what he looks like?" he asks suspiciously, narrowing his eyes playfully.
"'cause i looked him up this morning."
your boyfriend sighs dramatically and pretends to faint again. when he reopens his eyes, there's a slightly new look in his eyes as he mumbles, "i wish people would stop hitting on you."
you reach out and touch his chin, forgetting that people on his stream could probably see your hand even if you two were on mute. "oh, i get that a lot," you tease, pinching his cheek affectionately. "but, honestly, you're the only one i wanna be with. even if that other guy buys me everything i could ever want, he's still not you."
satoru kisses the inside of your hand, eyes still fixed on you. "you do know that i'd buy you all of that and more if you asked, right?"
"i know. and i'd love you even if you were as broke as toji."
your side comment makes satoru throw his head back in laughter, and he shakes his head as a wide smile grows across his face. he pushes his chair closer to the desk and tilts his head up, minty taste fresh on his mouth as he smiles against your lips.
a bashful giggle slips past your lips as satoru kisses you again and again. from the corner of your eye, you can see that the two of you are just barely off-camera��in fact, anyone who's watching the stream can tell that the two of you are kissing, but you're still just out of sight.
"d'you want the new battle pass?" satoru mumbles against your lips, caressing the side of your face. you nod and grin, kissing the corner of his mouth.
"only you would talk about a battle pass while you're kissi—" satoru cuts you off with another kiss, stopping you from finishing your sentence.
"uh uh, shut up and let me kiss you. you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen n' i wanna enjoy you," satoru says plainly, gripping your chin in between his thumb and index finger. he tugs your lips on his again, and when he finally pulls away, he turns back to his screen and sticks out his tongue.
satoru unmutes himself and smiles smugly at the camera, face flushed pink from the way you had kissed him back. "well, at least that asshole doesn't have my pretty girlfriend, and he never fuckin' will."
yuuji-itadori: aw you two are so cute :)
megumi-fushiguro: i miss the single gojo
inumaki: im back whatd i miss???
inumaki: oh nvm im leaving again
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months
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Hiiiii, Congratulations on your 5K !!! Idk if ur reqs r still open, but I'll try (pls feel free to delete this if it's closed alrdy)
I was supposed to ask for a Cap. Price but since u've said that there are low reqs for Soap, I'm (humbly and kindly) asking for a Soap oneshot. U can do whatever u want (I just want fluff pls, I'm so inlove with him, he's such a cutie)
—Alive and Breathing
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're sick. Very sick. John takes drastic action.] ❞
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Your head pounds violently, groaning softly under your breath as the room pulses with heat and fever. Sweat stains your forehead—dripping off the side of your nose as the bed is heavy with it. The window was shut tight, the sheets layered high on you in a heap akin to a garbage pile with shaking feet twitching from out the end. Your muscles jerk, lungs heaving for air that gets harder to come by. 
No matter how hot you tried to become, nothing was making you any more comfortable. You felt like you were freezing; standing out on an ice sheet and plunging into arctic waters. Everything was a sheen of blurry delirium, and you hoped that John would get home soon so you could have him help out around the house. 
You’d taken some cold medicine after you called him, but nothing was working. 
Not moving beyond the ragged coughs that make you gag on your saliva, you stay there even when the front door opens—a call of your name on the air a dull buzz in your drums. Like a fly. 
And then, suddenly, there’s a serious face in front of yours, and a hand is shoving back your blankets until you’re partially visible. 
“Up you get, now,” John grunts, eyes narrowed and his scar pulling tight at the sight of your state. Your mouth twists into a tight frown, panting at the chill of the air; you shiver violently. “I’m takin’ you in, aye?”
“M’cold, John,” you mutter through a hoarse exhilation. Shapes shift and shadows move. A heavy hand is pressed to your forehead, flinching momentarily at the heat that makes John hiss lowly. He looks your body up and down, taking in the scent of sweat and sickness. 
This was worse than the light fever you’d described over the phone. 
“Holy hell…” He breathes, glancing at the rapid pulse point in your neck. “Cold? You’re fuckin’ burnin’ up down there, Dearie. Did you take anything while I was away? Christ.”
A mind is made up quickly, concern striking John in the heart. 
He digs you out of the last remaining covers, gripping your slick body as your eyes flutter—you don’t answer him, muttering under your breath. 
“Fuck,” John growls. Once he knows you’re not going to slip out of his arms, he grips you tighter and rushes into the bathroom, nerves in his gut not leaving as your limp arm sways. “Hey!” He shouts at you, jostling your shoulder blades.
You whine, your head stuck at his pec. Everything pulses. 
Glaring, John’s blue eyes are laced with worry as he sets you down into the tub—scarred hand snapping to turn on the water on the coldest setting. 
Hands grapple your cheeks. 
“Hey, now,” the man utters, accent thick and deep as emotions take over. “Hey, focus on me. C’mon.” Water spreads over your legs—soaking into your clothes as your shivering continues even now. Your lashes flutter, teeth chattering. “C’mon, Sweetheart, right here.”
The water sloshes over the lip of the tub by the time John turns it off, the liquid cold enough to make the man shiver himself, but he doesn’t even notice—eyes trapped on your body. 
After a few long, tense, minutes, your rapid heartbeat slows to the visible eye. Your lungs ease back to a nearly-normal rise and fall; small hitches still in the muscle. 
“That’s a girl,” John runs his thumbs up and down your flesh. “That’s right.”
You huff, face still full of drying sweat until the man ahead of you takes a palm full of water and drenches your head with it. Sputtering, you weakly push at his other wrist near your cheek, gasping down air. 
“W-what the hell,” you stutter, water dripping off your nose and over your eyes.
“I’m getting you medicine,” John grumbles. “The correct kind. Cold bath won’t help in the long run, but I was out of options.”
You blink at him, still sluggish. 
“I’ll be fine, John.” A firm brow raises in challenge and you sigh shaking your head.
“It’s that or I bring you to hospital. Your choice.” 
Silence falls, only broken by the shift of the water and your small sickly sniffles. Blue eyes move and soften before John brings a hand up to his face and rubs it. He holds the limb there for a moment, taking a shallow breath. 
A kiss is pressed to your still steamy forehead, the lips staying there as you sag forward into John as his arms circle you, bringing you to him. 
“Scared me,” he utters lowly. 
You hum, tired. 
“I had the strangest dream while you were gone,” your mouth whispers. John grunts into your skin. “You were fighting a bear.”
“A bear?” He smirks, eyebrow quirking and pulling his scar tight. “Bit big for me to do alone, Dearie…I win?”
“Of course,” you try a hoarse chuckle, arms limp in the water. 
“Oh, aye, an accurate dream.” He chuckles with you. “How’d I do it, then? Was I barehanded? Knife?”
“...I’m just stroking your ego, John.”
“Can’t stroke something you can’t reach, can you?”
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months
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Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader
Getting so worked up during a celebration for Price's birthday that Simon has to take you in the bathroom of the bar you are both at just so you'll calm down
"Just couldn't fuckin' wait till we got back, yeah baby?" Simon growls in your ear with his warm breath, lips close to the side of your head as you both stand cramped inside that tiny bathroom stall as he desperately works your cunt with his fingers. "My fuckin' needy little kitten, shit you're just grinding away on my thick fuckin' fingers, aren't ya? Needed it that bad?"
It wasn't your fault honestly, he knew what the liquor did to your libido and yet he let you have shot after shot to keep pace with the boys...I mean it was a celebration after all, but still.
If he didn't want to be knuckles deep between your petals he should have pulled the reigns long ago...and yet maybe this was what he wanted in the first place. It wasn't like he was dismissing your discrete advances all night, even taking you by the hand to the dingy bar bathroom himself.
Price's birthday wasn't always able to be celebrated, work did have to come first unfortunately, but it just so happened that everything fell into place this year and so the entire group gathered in the local bar to let go and have fun.
And here you were with Simon having you own extra bit of fun, though this one wasn't for sharing...
Using your bandana that you had worn in your hair tonight as makeshift cuffs, Simon had your hands tied behind your head so that you wouldn't be tempted to stop the work his fingers were currently doing down below to get you off.
It had to be quick and distractions wouldn't help.
"Sorry, baby," you whimpered, mouth agape as heavy breaths exited your lips. "Just fucking need you so bad sometimes I can't see straight. And you are just looking so good tonight...was having trouble not just riding you at the table."
Oh he was absolutely gonna give you hell for it, but there was no doubt that he loved every fucking second of just how needy you could get for him. Just hearing that lilting whine in your voice, begging and pleading with him to take you in any way, shape, or form he could sent him up the goddamn wall.
"They probably all know what we're doin' in here, ya know that sweetheart," he said, thick accent making your skin tingle and your clit throb. "They're probably chucklin' under their breaths about how we weren't slick at all, breakin' away from the group like that. I bet they're whisperin' about how you're fuckin' just takin' it all, whatever I give ya."
You shook your head, eyes closed as he slipped another large finger into your already soaked panties and up into your core. "Don't care," you breathed, "even if they call me a whore, they better put your name in front of it and I won't deny it."
The plan was just to get you off quick so that you could finish out the night with the gang and then take you back later to his to do you proper, but fuck the way his cock was straining against the fabric of his jeans that wasn't gonna be enough.
"F-fuck baby, why do you always feel so fucking good?" you again whimpered quietly, so far gone between the booze and your lovers fingers that sanity had left you completely.
You were just so fucking wet, looking so goddamn voluptuous with all those juicy curves, saying all the right things to make him fall apart. As much as he tried to stay sane, it wasn't working, so change of plans...otherwise he was gonna be a fucking mess and that just wouldn't do.
That's how it always went, didn't it? He should've known he could keep himself out of you; not even if he tried.
"Ya want me inside ya?" Simon asked hurriedly out of the blue, as if he didn't already know the answer, and instantly your eyes shot open as your heart nearly burst from your chest.
"God, yes," you answered without hesitation. "Please Simon, fill me to the brim..."
A quick scramble to undo his pants, buckle jingling and denim rubbing against itself as he shimmied the damned things down enough to release himself, his cock already hard and pulsating, needing to enter you now.
Using the toilet paper dispenser as a makeshift ledge, Simon picked you up and set you on it with a prayer that it would stay bolted to the stall wall long enough the he could get you both off before it broke. He hated that any part of you had to touch anything in here, who the fuck knew how clean it was, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Your thighs instantly locked around his hips as you waited for him to align the head of his cock with your entrance. "Gotta make this quick" he groaned, the head of his member slipping itself through your petals.
And there it was, the initial thrust that always split you open as you took every inch inside until he ran out of inches to give. Christ, how fucking amazing it was to be so full of him; that fucking girth was more than enough.
"G-god-d-damn," he choked out, his hands digging harshly into your hips as he clung on for dear life, trying to not cum so fast. "Your gonna be the fuckin' death of me sweetheart."
You were already soaked and he had no trouble slamming into you over and over again, his pace quick and intense as at any moment someone could come walking through the door and hear you two going at it like a couple of teenagers, screwing wherever the mood struck.
Over and over his cock thrust into your core, the wet sounds of skin slapping against one another music to his ears that only fueled his passions further. You were a dream, a fucking vision of lustful beauty, and the way you felt only matched.
What was he supposed to do, not be obsessed? Fuck that, you were the best goddamn thing to happen to the manky bastard and it made him absolutely crazy about you.
Shit the pressure felt divine as the angle of his penetration made certain to engage your sensitive clit as well. Mix that with the tingling in your limbs from the alcohol and you were already dancing dangerously close to the edge of your orgasm.
"Yes, y-yes," you repeated in increasing volume, breasts bouncing up and down against his chest as he pounded into you.
"That's it sweetheart," he praised, "come on. Let go for me baby."
The wall of the stall shaking, the creak of the paper dispenser beneath you, the relentless place of Simon's hips snapping against yours was all to much.
"Cum with me," you begged.
"I'm already there luv," he replied quickly, "just let go. Come on pretty girl, come on."
In and out, in and out of your tight cunt a few more times, his abs clenching as Simon's own orgasm popped off and you were gone, crying out as your body shook from the release of pressure like a least in the wind.
Shit you saw fucking stars with that one.
As you both rode out the end of your pleasure together, that's when you heard the door open and a pair of heavy booted footsteps cross the floor. Simon's large palm cupped over the entirety of your mouth to stifle the last of your orgasmic moans, his cock still buried within you as whoever it was went about their business, taking a piss as was evident by the sound.
The urinal flushed after a few moments, followed by footsteps to the sink. A quick wash and the both of you thought the coast would soon be clear and you'd be able to finish up and head out.
"Be sure and come back to join us when your done, yeah?" the voice of your captain sounded through the tiny room; you'd been caught red handed. "Would hate to see you two leave early...again."
Well fuck, guess the cat was out of the bag now. Simon chuckled as he leaned in and gave you a kiss as the door to the bathroom shut, leaving you two alone in silence again.
"Oops," Simon whispered against your lips before he planted another heavy, greedy kiss to them, "too bad I'm not sorry."
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rafescurtainbangz · 4 months
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Breaking Dishes (Rafe Cameron One Shot) +18
Minor DNI
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Rafe x female reader
Rafe's best friend helps him make the best of his buzz cut era and he gets whatever he'd like in exchange.
Warning: SMUT, lots of pet names, lovey Rafe, friends to lovers, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v
********
"It hurts."
"Does it hurt? Or does it itch? There's a difference.
"Both, Y/N... This is fuckin' stupid."
"No. Nah. Nope... What was stupid was the fact that you, a grown-ass man, didn't know how to do his own laundry."
"That's what you're for."
You flick your eyes from his hair to the mirror, catching him with your death stare. "Keep going." He gives you a shit-eating grin, making you fight off a smile of your own.
"This has to be done." He looks at his hair in the mirror, the bleach altering his dark blonde buzz to an icy white."
"Almost," you sing, running your polished nail through the bleach, eyeing your work.
"And I get whatever I want if I do this. Yeah?"
"Anything you'd like."
Anything.
It started simply with you and Rafe. He looked like a pouty little man-child, holding his Ralph Lauren polo by the shoulders, his privilege showing as he eyed the streaked bleach stain across the front. This sort of shit had gone on for days. First, it was no detergent, then fabric softener only, followed by straight bleach on the third day. He looked pathetic, desperate to accomplish this simple task. You helped him on the fourth day, sparking a friendship in the process, making your first year at college a little easier.
There was so much stuff he just didn't know how to do... Stuff that he could fully figure out on his own, but if he did... Then, he wouldn't need you. And both of you knew that.
There was a spark. There always was. But this time, it was a loaded exchange. You do this for me, and I'll do anything you'd like, Rafey.
"Purple shampoo?" He mumbles.
"I’m being proactive. Gotta tone it. Don't question it," you giggle, emulsifying the shampoo, watching the suds and bleach swirl down the sink. "Gah... Looks so fucking good." He grunts in reply. "Stay here." You run over to the rack, grabbing a fluffy white towel. "Stop!"
"What? Why? It's my hair, Y/N. Jesus fuck."
"'Cause... It's a surprise," you practically growl out the words through your excitement, swathing the towel around his head; pawing out the water.
"What am I gonna do if this looks like shit?"
"It won't. It won't," you smile. "What are you gonna tell Topper?" 
"That I lost a bet. I don't know. You're takin' advantage of me, y/n."
"You're the only person I know with a buzz cut, Cameron. It fits your aesthetic. Lean into it."
"I'm not leaning into shit."
"Stand up." You feel your cheeks redden as Rafe rises from his hunched-over position in the sink, his muscular frame bare, just a pair of gray sweats on his tight body. "You blushing, Y/N?" He asks as a cocky smile spreads on his lips. You bite yours, casting your gaze away as you try to collect yourself. "I look that good. Huh?" He taunts, hooking his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze to his. You stare into his beautiful baby blues, feeling your heart start to race.
"Yeah, Cameron."
He bites his cheek, holding back an all-too-wide smile as his cheeks redden as well. You reach up, tapping the high point of his face, silently calling him out.
"Got me," he whispers, making your heart flutter. "Alright... So, can I look?" You smile and nod. Rafe turns on his heels, eyes widening as he takes himself in. He goes through all the emotions at once, landing on a meh. His lip tugs slightly, shoulders shrugging in acceptance."It's not that bad..."
"I love it," you praise, smiling brightly back at him.
"You're way too fuckin' excited about this, Y/N."
"Nah... You wouldn't get it."
"M'Kay. What now?" He cops a slight attitude, unenthused with the rest of your request. You snatch your phone out of your pocket, flicking to your camera, turning it on record. "NO!" He rips it out of your hand, turning it off before passing it back.
"What..." You pout.
"The fuck do you have to record this for?"
"Me!"
"What are you gonna do with it, Y/N? This goes nowhere."
"It's just for me, Rafey. Jesus Christ. Calm your tits."
"Don't tell me to calm my tits," he huffs. "I'm so fuckin' serious, Y/N."
"I promise," you answer earnestly. "And, you have to say the thing."
"I forgot."
"Bullshit."
"When?" He crosses his arms before his chest; his hip popped slightly.
"After I start the song, of course," you tease. "Alexa play Breaking Dishes by Rihanna."
"This is weird," he snips, looking down at you disgustingly.
"It's alright, baby girl. You don't have to get it."
"Don't call me baby girl, Y/N," he huffs as the song starts to build.
"Fine. Alright, Rafey. Lights, Camera, Action."
"A man, a man, a ma-a-a-an..."
Rafe rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth, throwing his arms to his sides. His ab muscles flex more than before, making you squeal internally. Fuck, he looks good.  Your eyes widen, threatening him with your glare to say his fucking line.
"Snow always lands on top."
"Ah! Yes, Rafey!"
You press the little red button, ending the recording, letting out a delighted squeal before jumping into his arms. His eyes fall down your body, roaming back up nice and slow. Rafe's gaze gets stuck on your lips, wetting his own; tension building between the two of you as you wait to see if he'll ask for what you both want.
"You know, Y/N... I wouldn't do this shit for anybody else," he mumbles. 
"I know," you smile. "So, what do you want, Rafe?" You ask, drawing his focus back to your watch.
"Helped you set up that big mirror last week," he rasps.
"Mhmm..."
"Wanna fuck you in front of it, Y/N." You feel your stomach flip; your heart instantly picks up pace.
"Oh."
"That okay?" He asks, leaning in slightly.
"Yeah... That's okay."
"You want that?" He smiles, his lips mere centimeters from yours, breathing softly against yours.
"Yeah."
"Words, Y/N," he whispers.
"I want you to fuck me in front of the mirror, Rafe," you respond, voice hoarse and breathy as your nerves start to get the better of you. Everything fades away as Rafe's lips crash into yours, taking your breath away; claiming your mouth against his.
Heat rolls over your skin. Your body starts to tingle, hands moving from his neck, wrapping around his broad shoulders tightly, drawing him closer. His lips are sweet, just like you expected. A soft moan escapes your lips, landing in his. You feel him smile against your kiss, making you do the same.
"You sure this is okay?" He mumbles between kisses as he walks with you into your bedroom.
"Perfect." Rafe's tongue slips through your lips, greeting yours, rolling softly with your rhythm.
Fuck...
He draws back from you, looking at the two of you in the mirror. "First thing I thought about when you asked me to put this up, Y/N. Been thinkin' about it ever since."
"Yeah?" You smile as you look back into his blue jean eyes. "Why do you think I bought it?" His smile shifts to a smirk at the sound of your admittance.
Rafe sets you down, making quick work of your clothing, peeling it off between kisses. You bite your lip as your fingers dance over the indentations of his muscles, working down to his waistband, his slutty gray sweats, hiding absolutely nothing.
You work the material over his thighs and down to his ankles. He kicks them off, just a pair of white cotton Calvin's on his tight frame. You take your time, revealing his thick cock inch by inch. His dick springs free, standing straight; a bead of cum gathered on his swollen tip.
His rough fingers ghost over your soft skin. Rafe takes hold of your breasts, pressing them together. His touch lightens; feather-soft circle over your nipples.
"Rafe," you whine as you throw your head back.
His mouth quickly greets your skin, sucking harshly, skimming and flicking your hardened nipple with his tongue.
His hands roam down your body as his lips return to yours. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. It's happening. Rafe's hand disappears between your thighs, making you moan. He runs his finger along your silk. "So fucking wet for me, y/n," he hums, turning you to face the mirror.
You feel your whole body start to pulse, every nerve firing hot. Rafe's fingers meet your bud, circling softly. You'd always look at his hands, wondering what they could do. "Feels so good," you whine, causing him to chuckle sinfully. Rafe pulls another moan out of your parted lips, his dark gaze matching yours over your shoulder.
He adds a second finger, curling it inside of you, thrusting in and out. Rafe moves his thumb to your clit, adding a little more pressure. "I've always wanted you," He growls, lips grazing your ear.
"Yeah," you mewl.
"Do you think about me a lot, y/n?" He breathes.
"Yes," you press out the word through a moan.
"And you wanted to know what my hands could do. Didn't you? I've seen the way you look at me," he taunts. "Are they doin' it for you, Y/N?" He works you a little harder.
"Yes! Yes." You cry. Your thighs start to tremble. Rafe's lips lock on your neck, licking you, marking you as his own. "I'm gonna cum."
"I know, baby; I know," he whispers against your skin. "Can you be a good girl and cum when I tell you?"
"Rafe, I... S-Shit."
Your eyes flick open, resting on him as you fight back your pleasure, Rafe working against you, trying his very best to push you over the edge.
"Cum."
"Fuck!" You lose yourself, fluttering around his fingers. He continues to please you, toiling harder and quicker than before. Your lips crash into his, cries of pleasure against his mouth. The two of you are breathing heavily; Rafe sucks off your bottom lip slowly.
"I can't wait to have you, y/n," he groans huskily. "Fuck. That was beautiful." Rafe wraps his strong arms around your waist, holding you tightly. "How was that, baby?" He drawls.
"Fantastic... Holy shit."
His hands fall down your skin, landing on your hips, turning you before pulling you close. Rafe circles your ass, squeezing you, giving you a little spank. Your urges are too strong. You just can't resist.
You throw yourself in his arms, lips locking with his. He moans into your kiss, tongue rolling with yours. Your hands grasp the front of his thighs, nails sinking in slightly.
You drag your fingers down his tight body. A smile spreads on Rafe's lips as you wrap your hands around his thick dick.
"Shit, y/n," he chuckles raspily as you fall to your knees.
"Can I suck your cock, Rafey?"
"Mmm... Mhmm," he groans, a lusty chuckle leaving his lips. "Hell fucking yes, Y/N." You feel your confidence building by the moment.
You swirl your tongue on his velvety head, collecting his precum on your tongue. Rafe takes a sharp breath, followed by a loose, drawn-out moan.
"I've always wanted you in my mouth, Rafe," you pant. You trace the head of his shaft, lips close, breathing warmly against him. "Do you want my mouth?" You whisper onto his tip; his lashes flutter.
"Ugh, Shit. Yes, y/n," he groans. "I need your mouth on my cock." His voice is coarse and delicious, driving you wild. You flatten your tongue, licking him from base to tip. Rafe's fingers rake through your hair, his hands gripping the back of your head.
His hips thrust into your mouth slowly, pushing you to see how far he can go. He draws out; your tongue swirls to the tip. "Fuck me, Y/N," Rafe hums. The grip on your hair tightens.
Each thrust is deeper than the next, a soft swirl to his tip. Your eyes start to water. Rafe readjusts his stance, his eyebrows furrowing. Bringing your hands up to his balls, you play with them as well. Rafe bites his lips, grunting with each thrust as he starts to buck his hips into your mouth.
You're choking on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks. You bring your fingers down to your warmth, pleasing yourself as well.
"Y/n," Rafe grunts, taking notice; his breathing increases. "You're going to make me cum, baby," he sears. He adjusts his stance, thighs quaking. "Mmm... Y/n. I can't wait to have you. I'm going to fuckin' ruin you, Y/N," he growls, eyes pinched shut.
Hollowing your cheeks, you increase your suction, causing his lips to part. You feel his dick twitch on your tongue. Rafe thrusts into you roughly, his climax spilling deep into your throat.
He throws his head back again, holding yours against him as you scratch your nails along his ass. "Y/n, f-fuck," he pants, breathing rapidly. "Ugh... Holy shit."
You come off him slowly, eyes set on him.
"Best blowjob of my life.."
"Stop," you giggle.
"Fuck, y/n. I mean it." He helps you to your feet, quickly pulling you in tightly. He presses a kiss against your forehead, breathing rapidly, still coming down from his climax. "Can't wait to taste you, Y/N?"
"M'so wet..." You hum, fanning the flame. His eyes darken, trailing your curves before tossing you down on the bed. You feel your pussy throb, craving Rafe's lips; his fingers; his cock. He wraps his arms around your thighs, drawing you toward his face.
You throw your arms above your head, arching your back as his tongue glides through your silk. "Shit," you mewl as you feel the warmth of his mouth, and the whisper of his breath against your sex.
Rafe buries himself between your thighs, nose brushing your clit; tongue dipping into your entrance. Your heart starts to race again. You prop yourself up on your elbow, meeting his stare. Drawing your hands up your body, you take hold of your breasts. Rafe moans against your pussy, watching as you play with yourself.
He whispers your name softly against your clit; you toss your head back. Feeling the roughness of his hand against your stomach, working higher. Rafe palms your breast, rolling your nipple softly between his fingers.
You feel your pleasure building. Your body moves, grinding your hips to get a little more friction. Rafe's hand lowers; your anticipation builds. He licks a line up your slit.
His fingers toy with your entrance. "Rafe, please," you wail; your thighs widening, pressure building in between.
"Ugh... Fuck!" You cry; Rafe sinks two fingers deep, his soft lips sucking roughly. Your thighs start to quiver as he thrusts his digits in and out. "Can you cum on my fingers?" He breathes. "Can you soak my hand for me?"
"Yes... Yes."
"Mmm... My cock's gonna feel so good sliding in and out of this pretty pussy, Y/N."
"Yes!" You punch out the word, back arching off the bed.
You feel your release, just like he asked, making a mess of his hand as you grip the sheets. You can hear the sound of it. His fingers working sloppily, in and out.
"Baby..." You stutter, relaxing around his fingers, craving more.
Rafe grips your hips in his strong hands, tugging you even closer to the edge. You tilt your head up, watching as he takes a grip on his cock; hard and throbbing. Your eyes shift as he guides himself closer.
He seizes himself by the base, tapping his dick against your clit. Your thighs tremble with each touch, spurs of pleasure, your sensitivity at an all-time high.
"So fucking wet," he praises. Rafe's hands shift, taking a harsh hold on the back of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. "Mmm... Hold these f'me," he groans. You relax your head to the side as Rafe runs his tips through your silk; his eyes meet yours in the mirror, a smile spreading on his lips.
His mouth parts, mirroring yours as his cock starts to stretch you out. You let out a soft whimper; your eyebrows knit as he gives you all of him. Every inch pushes you to your limit; your eyes roll back as he draws out, quickly thrusting back in.
Your hands grab his forearms, holding on tightly, drawing him closer, pulling him deeper. "Look at me, Y/N," he moans, his eyes shifting from the mirror, driving into yours. He leans into you, folding you in half, pinning your thighs against the bed as he kisses you deeply. Your tongues intertwine; moaning and blissful cries are exchanged between your lips.
You separate slightly, breathing rapidly, lips hovering close. His skin slaps against yours, your forehead, nestled against his. "You're so fuckin' beautiful," he pants.
"God, this feels so good."
"So good, baby," he echoes. Rafe picks up speed, feeling your walls drawn in around him. His strong hands grip your hips, using them as leverage to drive deeper.
You throw your head back, eyes shut tight as you feel yourself about to fall apart. Your mouth draws open; a string of curses and praise flow freely. Rafe's lips lock onto your nipple, sucking hard.
"Rafe. Fuck!" Your pleasure releases; your body pulses around his shaft. Your hands reach for him, pulling slightly, tugging him toward your lips. Rafe picks you up swiftly, taking a seat on the bed, his cock still deep inside.
"Are you okay?" He pants with a smile.
"So good... So fucking good."
You start rolling and grinding your hips on top of him. Rafe starts to bounce on the mattress. His breathing increases; you can tell he's close. Grabbing his shoulders, you press him down on the bed.
Rafe's hands squeeze your ass tightly, guiding you, setting a rapid tempo. "Fuck... Ugh," he whimpers. "I'm gonna cum." He takes you by surprise, drawing out quickly, rolling you to your back.
He plunges back in, reaching for air as he grunts and moans incoherent words. "I'm cumming... Shit," he groans as he climaxes; Rafe continues to drive his release deeper. He presses his lips and body against yours, rocking slowly to a stop.
"Holy shit...." he pants, holding you close. Rafe nuzzles himself into your neck, breathing rapidly as he kisses you softly. You sigh blissfully, relaxing into the bed, giving him better access to your skin. His lips work over your neck, moving up to your jaw.
"So..." he whispers.
"So," you giggle, your heart racing rapidly against his.
"I like you, Y/N, if that's not clear. And that... Fuck. That was so damn good," he groans blissfully.
"I like you too," you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently.
"And, just so we're crystal clear, you pictured yourself fuckin' me and not..." He points to his hair, narrowing his eyes on yours.
"Rafe? No, President Snow. Of course, I pictured myself fucking you and not Rafe Cameron."
"Brat." He spanks your ass, making you yelp.
"Fuck, Rafe!" You whine as you look back, watching the print shift from white to red.
"Ah, shit. You don't like it rough, Y/N?" He taunts through a snickering laugh. You lower your lips to him, brushing gently.
"You owe me now, Rafey... Round two. I like it rough."
A/N Thanks for reading. Kel♡
1K notes · View notes
merakiui · 4 months
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The Most Dangerous Game [2]
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yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, slight hints of dub-con, coercion, manipulation, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, friends with benefits, obsession, unrequited/one-sided love, brief angst, choking, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, characters written as 18+ note - it is never a good idea to make mutually beneficial arrangements with jade leech. // split into two parts due to size. read the first half here.
There’s a certain air about you when you enter the Mostro Lounge.
Radiating confident satisfaction, a cutthroat type of on-top-of-the-world aura that replaces any first day jitters attempting to rise to the surface, you beeline for the kitchen. You know the lounge’s layout well enough—not only as a customer who spent an obsessive amount of time observing these details, but also as Jade’s diligent taste-tester. You’ve been let into the lounge kitchen after hours more often than you’d like to admit, but it only serves to bolster your mental fortitude.
I’m going to kill it today, you assure yourself. Prove to Azul that I’m capable and get closer to Floyd in the process.
As if having read your thoughts, Floyd intercepts you. “Heyyy, Shrimpy really showed up!” He circles you like a curious shark, a smile slowly spreading on his lips. “Lookin’ good.”
You reward his ogling with a twirl in your new uniform, which had been conveniently waiting at your doorstep this morning—wrapped in a pretty box with a big bow. The card had simply read: A uniform to celebrate your newly acquired Officially Octavinelle status. You didn’t have to read further to know who signed the message, and the note had been swiftly torn in two and tossed into the trash while you lamented to Grim and the ghosts about a certain stupid, sly eel.
“Aren’t I just the spitting image of scummy scams and the deep sea?”
“The most spittin’ image anyone’s ever spat,” he agrees with a silly giggle. But then something serious passes over his features. He plucks your hat from off your head and leans in close. “It’s Shrimpy’s first day, so I’m gonna letcha in on a li’l somethin’, kay?”
Out of instinct, you shrink away. His voice is a dangerous whisper, lined with threatening undertones. “Anyone gives you any trouble, you come to me, got it? Don’t think you can’t say nothin’ cuz you’re new.”
“Oh. O-Oh!” You nod hastily, too astounded to rely on your usual quick-witted coherency. “Thank you… I appreciate that.”
Like a flipped switch, he brightens and plops your hat back on your head. “Man, I’m pumped! It’s gonna be so much fun with Shrimpy here!”
You adjust your hat and skip after him, not wanting to slip out of his orbit. “So what’s the plan for today?”
Floyd grins and holds a card between his fingers like a magician readying to reveal his next trick. Foolishly, you assume it’s a love letter up until you watch him scribble something down on a second card. He passes the unmarked one to you, explaining, “Ya gotta sign in for every shift. These things keep track of the hours ya worked, and at the end of every two weeks Azul counts ’em up.”
“That makes sense.” You take the pen he offers and scribble your name and the time in the appropriate boxes, soon handing both to him.
“And after you put it back here, you can start doin’ what you’re supposed to. Least, that’s what I usually do.”
“And that is?”
“Whatever I feel like.”
“Ah, right. Then what about me? What should I do?”
“You’re gonna be with me today. We’ll be takin’ orders and servin’ customers. Doin’ stuff as we go. That sorta thing.”
“All right! Sounds easy enough!” The both of you high-five just as Jade approaches, wearing his usual polite smile.
“My, my. Someone’s in high spirits.”
You nod, too eager to entertain him with another pointless argument. “You bet! Oh, and thanks for the uniform.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Your nose scrunches at his too-proud inflection, but your attention is soon snatched away when Floyd returns with a notepad and pen.
You flip to a fresh page, curiously clicking your pen. “I’m assuming there’s a system for taking orders?”
“Precisely,” Jade interrupts, smoothly striding between you and Floyd, a hand over his heart. “We use abbreviations when taking orders. It’s quick and convenient. I’ll help you as you go.”
Floyd easily steps around Jade, draping an arm on your shoulder and tugging you against him. Your heart skyrockets into your throat at this newfound closeness. “You’ll get it in no time. S’not difficult at all. And if Shrimpy gets stuck, she’s got me.”
Jade stares at Floyd, a ghost of a frown turning his lips down. “She’ll have both of us,” he corrects coolly. “Azul tasked both of us to train her, after all.”
“Yeah, but you’re just gonna do things by the book. That’s no fun at all.” Floyd spins you to look at him. “You want me to train ya, right? It’ll be more fun that way.”
You lock eyes with Jade over Floyd’s shoulder. Though they’re dulled with emptiness, he smiles and nods encouragingly. “Uh… I mean, of course I want you to train me. But Azul might get angry if I mess up on my first day because I wanted to have fun. Seems a little…irresponsible.”
He’ll definitely count it as my first strike, too. There’s no way I’m risking that.
Floyd pouts, his entire frame melting with disappointment. “Aww. Shrimpy’s lame.”
“There are other ways to have fun, you know.” Swatting his empty insult away, you lower your voice conspiratorially. “We just can’t get caught.”
“Attagirl, now you’re speakin’ my language.”
“Hell yeah! Let’s do this!”
Between the two of them, Floyd actually proves his worth—more so than Jade. He must be on top of his game today, you realize as he points out various numbering systems and abbreviations, casually correcting you when it’s necessary. You wonder how he can remember all of this, but when he puts his mind to a task he can accomplish anything. You’re content to listen and follow along, striving for perfection even though you know that means nothing to Floyd.
Jade keeps his distance, tending to nearby tables when he’s not needed. He’s quiet today, more so than usual, but you don’t have any time to dissect this observation and what it means. The lunch rush is a whirlwind; students filter in with their cravings, piling into booths and tables, and soon the lounge is resembling a noisy sardine tin. The rowdy energy keeps you alert, has you flitting from table to table with a pep in your step. Every group you’ve tended to, with Floyd standing at your side as your lifeline, has shrunk away at the sight of him. He flashes them friendly grins, but to everyone else they probably look menacing.
You’re relieved he’s here. His presence gives you some special sort of invincibility against ignorant customers who may have been itching to heckle you on your first day. And no one would dare try anything with Floyd prowling so closely.
“Thank you for your order! It’ll be up shortly,” you say, offering the table a trademark customer service smile. You turn on your heel, intending to beeline for the kitchen to notify the chefs of another order, when you walk right into Floyd. “Oh, sorry! Do you need something, Floyd?”
Pinching the order slip between two nimble fingers, he tears it from the notebook and beams. “I’ll take care of this. You do the next one by yourself. Table six.” Before you can object, he pats you on the shoulder and skips off. “Countin’ on ya, Shrimpy!”
Aw. I’ll miss you, you think with a dejected pout, spinning to locate the table in question. The pout immediately twists up into a smile when you spot three familiar faces, and you hurry over to meet them.
“Hey, guys, fancy seeing you here!”
Ace, Deuce, and Grim all turn to look at you, their faces brightening considerably at your arrival.
“(Name), hey! How’s your first shift going?” Deuce asks.
“Think ya could slide us some extras free of charge?” Grim tries, patting the menu with his paw. “The Great Grim ain’t gonna say no to free eats!”
“Now that sounds good. What do ya think, (Name)? Think you could hook us up?” With a smirk, Ace leans back into the cushioned booth and pantomimes locking his lips and tossing an invisible key. “We won’t tell if you won’t.”
You roll your eyes, hands situated on your hips. “First of all, no, I can’t do that even if I wanted to. Secondly, if you’re just here to beg for free food, the door’s over there.”
“Don’t listen to them,” Deuce cuts in, shooting them a look. “They’re just thinking with their stomachs. We’re paying customers like everyone else, so please just treat us like that.”
Ace tuts. “You wouldn’t even do something nice for your best buds? That’s harsh, man. I thought we had something.”
“We do and it’s called friendship. But not the kind of friendship where I steal from my job just to feed you. Besides, you get tons of free snacks every time you hang out at Ramshackle. If anything, you ought to do something nice for me.”
“Can’t I just buy my way out with this award-winning smile of mine? Oh, I know! I’ll teach you a few magic tricks next time we play cards. How’s that sound for payment? Priceless, yeah?”
“Not too bad. All right, I’m in.” You reach over to bump fists with Ace, sealing the verbal deal.
“Hey, I wanna learn! If yer teachin’ my hench-human, I gotta get in on this, too!” Grim nudges Ace, attempting to squeeze past him in the booth to get between him and you.
“Oi, Grim! Sit back down!”
You laugh at the sight while Deuce looks on woefully. He turns to you next. “How’s it going with Floyd? You said you’d have a better chance to see him here, right?”
“Yeah, it’s going surprisingly well! I thought he’d want nothing to do with me at first—because I’d be just another new hire—but he’s been super helpful all day. On top of that, we’re talking more than we usually do. Oh, and he also complimented me! It’s been a great first day.” The more you ramble, the more the color on Deuce’s face drains until he’s as pallid as a ghost. “Uh, Deuce? You good?”
Even Grim and Ace have quieted their quarreling, and now they look on with an obedience that startles you. But then, in spite of his silence, you sense him. Without turning to confirm, you feel around for the ends of his scarf, take hold of both, and tug him down to your height.
“My, my. It seems I’ve been ensnared,” Jade admits, his voice light with laughter.
“It’s rude to lurk, you know,” you advise, craning your head to glare at him. “You’re scaring my honored guests.”
“Am I now?” Rather boldly, he rests his chin on your shoulder to stare down at your friends. The proximity would have been ominous to anyone else—and it certainly is to Ace, Deuce, and Grim—but for you this is nothing new. “I’ve only come to check in. You’re very hard at work making pleasant conversation.”
“It was very pleasant until a certain eel interrupted.”
“Ah, is that so? Pardon my intrusion.”
Releasing his scarf from your hold, you shrug him off. “Little late for insincerity. Anyway, shoo. I was just about to take their orders.”
“I thought I might observe. You seem quite popular with customers and it’s only your first day. I’d like to know what parts of you are so appealing.” Jade detaches himself and slides into the empty space beside you. He smiles, close-eyed and tight-lipped. “Don’t let me hinder you.”
“Ugh. All right, guys, what do you want?”
“Since when are you so buddy-buddy with Jade?” Ace asks instead, sounding genuinely curious despite his growing smirk.
He thinks he’s worked out what’s going on behind the scenes, but he doesn’t even know half of it. A relief, otherwise you’d never hear the end of his teasing. He doesn’t bother to hide it, nor does he whisper his query. If you could shrink him with pure willpower alone, stuff him in a jar, and give it a firm shake, you’d do just that.
“We are not buddy-buddy!” you hiss, clicking your pen impatiently. “Now order, or else I’m leaving your table and never coming back.”
“I dunno…” Deuce winces under the combination of Jade’s inquisitive stare and your mean glower as you wordlessly dare him to continue. “You seem like buds to me.”
“Yeah! (Name) was goin’ on and on about him this morning. Nearly made me deaf with all her loud rantin’! Since the Great Grim’s so all-knowin’ about stuff, I’d say she likes him.”
You catch the grin curling on Jade’s lips and hurry to step in front of him before he can say or do anything that’ll deepen the grave you’ve dug. His hands fall upon your shoulders, holding you still while he leers at your friends.
“Do we truly seem so close?” he asks. A trick question if you’ve ever heard one.
The three of them exchange wary looks before attempting chuckles.
“You know… Actually, I think I’m ready to order now.”
“I mean, closeness can’t really be measured physically like that, right? You kinda have no choice but to be close or…as close as coworkers can get, I guess,” Deuce adds.
“The Great Grim’s gonna be skin and bones by the time you finish yapping! Hurry up and lemme put my order in!”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You stick your tongue out at them before shifting out of Jade’s grasp, penning their orders one at a time. Once everything has been recorded, you rip the slip from the notepad and pass it to Jade. He peers at it, brows raised.
“Since we’re so close, help me out and make this order.”
“Anything for Shrimpy,” he murmurs with that stupid, sly smile of his. He brushes past you as he departs for the bar.
You just love to play dangerous games, don’t you, Jade Leech? you think, hoping he trips on the way there. (He doesn’t.)
“You sure there’s nothing between you and Jade?” Ace asks once it’s just you. “Nothing at all?”
Your eyes narrow dubiously. “Why? You interested?”
He forces a loud scoff. “As if! Like I’d like you. You’ve probably got all sortsa cooties.”
“Oh, really? I’ll show you cooties. Come here!”
Giggling, you throw yourself into the booth and wrap your arms around Ace to smother him in friendly affection. He fights it halfheartedly, his cheeks flushed pink. Deuce and Grim sit back and enjoy the silliness with wide smirks. You’re near-wrestling with him, the both of you attempting to overpower the other with pokes and pinches. It’s when you spot Floyd emerging from the kitchen, drinks balanced on his tray, that you finally separate yourself from Ace, putting a grand end to your impossible stalemate.
“Now we’ve both got cooties.” You ruffle his hair. He attempts to return the favor, but you take a graceful step away before he can capture you.
“Yeah, yeah. Just you wait. I’ll get you back for this,” he challenges, mischief lacing each syllable. “When you least expect it! That’s an Ace Trappola guarantee!”
“You sure you’re not just gonna forget?” Deuce notes with a smirk, to which Ace glares.
“Just because you said that, I’m gonna remember it for the rest of the month!”
“Good luck,” Grim says with a snicker. “The Great Grim might be inclined to remind you if you offer him some premium tuna…”
“Come off it! Your memory’s even worse! Just look at your last test score!”
“Yours ain’t any better!”
You shake your head, thoroughly amused with their antics. “I’ll see you later, okay? Let’s hang out at Ramshackle tonight!”
Deuce nods and flashes you a kind smile—the type that smooths out all of his rough edges. “Have a good rest of your shift, (Name).”
“Make a difference, tiger,” Ace says with a wink. “Catch ya in the eve.”
“And if they got leftovers at the end of this, bring ’em home for me!”
“You can count on it, guys. And I’m not making any promises, Grim!”
And then you’re slipping into the fray before your always-hungry direbeast friend can protest, darting around the noisy hustle and bustle to get to Floyd. He’s just finished making his rounds when you meet him at the center, the both of you sharing a nod of mutual greeting. Carrying drinks of his own, Jade passes you and you don’t spare him a single glance. You’ve seen and heard enough of him for the day.
“Shrimpy’s pretty good at this,” Floyd remarks as he wraps an arm around you, putting most of his weight on you. You stand proud even though you falter with the added burden. “Didja work in a place like this back in your world?”
You gaze up at him, your face inches from his. Any closer and you could…
Your eyes flick from his eyes to his lips and then back. Floyd watches you, brows raised and body angled directly at you. He’s waiting. Waiting for what, you’re not sure.
“Yeah,” you admit in a single breath, speechless and yet filled to the brim with chatter. “I… I did.”
“Then you got nothin’ to worry about. You’re already doin’ great.”
He leans in even closer, a smile stretching across his face. You can smell his cologne, practically taste him from where you stand. The lounge and its inhabitants seem to fade away, and suddenly it’s just you and your star in a tenebrous space lit only by a single spotlight.
Any closer—mere centimeters—and you could…
Gathering your courage, you force the words out from the crannies in your heart, each one a product of this perfect moment. “Floyd, I’ve always wanted to tell you this. I… I want you to know that I’ve always loved—”
“Your work ethic,” Jade interjects, placing his hands on your and Floyd’s shoulders to separate you. He smiles, irritatingly innocent. “As it happens, table eight needs a server. Why not show off that incredible work ethic right now?”
On second thought, maybe you should shove Jade in the jar. Lock him inside for the rest of his days and turn it into a terrarium trap. The plants can thrive off of his decomposing corpse for all you care—as recompense for being an utter pain.
Floyd shrugs Jade off with a pout. “Yeah, yeah. I see ’em.”
“I’ll race you there,” you challenge before he can lose steam.
That sparks him right back into the groove, and he giggles. “If I win, you gotta tell me that thing you were tryin’ to say, okaaay? No gettin’ out of it. And if you lie, I’ll squeeze the truth outta ya.”
“And if I win, you owe me something sweet!”
“Hee-hee. Shrimpy better run fast then.”
He takes off first. You lag behind long enough to drag Jade down to your face. He tilts his head at you.
“At this rate, he’ll win.”
“Good. Then he’ll finally know how I feel about him, and someone won’t be there to interrupt like the ignorant, asshole eel he is.”
“I only wish to assist you. After all—” he lowers his voice, and the pointed beginnings of his teeth wink at you from under his curved lips— “as per Azul’s condition, kissing and confessions count as Floyd-related distractions, do they not? Are you truly willing to risk striking out on your first day?”
He’s right. You hate that he’s right.
“Shit,” you hiss, releasing him from your hold.
He straightens and struts past you, smooth as a breeze. “If you run now, you may just make it.” And then he’s walking towards your friends’ table, each of their drinks placed upon his tray.
You groan and fall into a frantic run. “Floyd, wait up!”
By some magical miracle, you manage to get to the table before he does. But that’s only because you throw yourself at it with a force so shocking and desperate that it stuns both Floyd and the students sitting there. A twinge of humiliation pricks your heart when you draw away from the table, smiling sheepishly. Floyd’s raucous laughter permeates the air, and his hand claps down on your shoulder.
“Musta been a real good secret if Shrimpy’s so determined to keep quiet about it.”
“Y-Yeah, something like that…”
Thank goodness I made it. Just what was I thinking, getting swept up in the moment? There’s no way I can confess in the middle of the lounge when it’s so busy! That would make for such a lame confession. You dig your notepad and pen from your pocket, exhaling in relief. I guess I owe Jade some thanks. He saved me from certain doom.
“I’ll figure it out eventually. Don’t hold out on me, kaaay?”
With his looming frame overshadowing you, all you can do is nod. Floyd has always had a tendency to take your breath away—either from anxiety, amazement, or admiration. And he’s so good at it, too.
“Ah. Guess I owe ya somethin’ sweet, yeah?” He digs through his pockets before withdrawing a single candy. Grinning boyishly, he leans in, presses his lips to your cheek with a wet-sounding smack, and then slides the treat into your waiting hand. “There. How’s that for sweet?”
Your face flares with heat and you grip the lollipop in a tighter fist, half-expecting it to simply vanish if you loosen your grip. “T-The sweetest…”
“Uh, can we order now?” an impatient Scarabia student asks, a scowl scrawled across his features.
His friends huff in agreement, each unwilling spectators to your and Floyd’s fluffy fawning.
Floyd’s gaze is dark, but his smile is bright—all sharp points. “Sure, sure. Tell Shrimpy your order. It’s her first day, so cut her some slack, else I’m servin’ each of ya a side of squeezin’. On the house.”
The quartet of friends stiffen and give hasty, obedient nods.
You click your pen, swimming through a sea of pure joy. The lollipop is a lucky charm in your pocket. “What can I get for you, gentlemen?”
For the rest of the day you’re in the clouds, clear-headed and weightless.
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Weeks later, on your way out of the lounge, Floyd stops you. His arrival is Grim’s cue to exit, and he trots after Ace and Deuce, who are already so far ahead they’re practically pinpricks. You’re compelled to follow, if only to tell them not to wait up, but then Floyd’s hand is squeezing your shoulder, willing you to look at him.
“Floyd?”
You’re not scheduled to work tonight. In fact, you have no further business with him. Not really. Most of your conversations are held during your shifts, your bond strengthened through mutual employment. You’re not best friends, but you’re something close.
Close enough to see each other outside of work, you think before cringing inwardly. Wait. Friends and classmates do that, too. There’s nothing special about that.
“Why don’tcha stay a while? S’not too busy today.”
“I’d love to, but I’ve kinda got plans. We’re heading back to Ramshackle now if you wanna come.”
“Tempting, but nah.”
You blink at him, unsure of his angle. “Then… I’ll see you around?”
Floyd giggles, tilting his head at you in that cute, curious way. “Okaaay.”
His hand slides away and he stands with his arms folded behind his back. You take a step in the opposite direction before halting.
Floyd was the one who sought me out. Floyd…wants something from me. And we’re finally alone. Why am I trying to walk away from that? Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted?
“Actually—” you start, whirling around, still unsure— “can we hang out?”
“Thought ya’d never ask.”
Floyd strides over to match your gait, grinning down at you. He seizes your hand next, spindly fingers interlocking with yours, and then he’s dragging you down the hall. As if caught up in a current, you allow yourself to be pulled.
“What about your shift?” you ask even though you don’t particularly care.
“They’ll manage. Azul’ll just make Jade do all the work.”
You furrow your brow, stumbling along after him. “That doesn’t seem very fair to Jade.”
“Shrimpy cares a lot about Jade, huh?”
“Not like that,” you say, shaking your head. “No way. Jade and I are just friends.”
“Yeah? Didn’t seem that way yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” You think back on the day’s events and recall the way Jade had slipped past you while you were taking an order, his fingers grazing your arm. Of course, as any smart, sensible person would do, you wound your fist back to reciprocate tenfold, which he’d artfully dodged. Much to your disappointment. “Oh, that. That was…an attempt at a high-five.”
Floyd giggles. “Jade’s not super touchy-feely with lotsa people, but he loooves touchin’ Shrimpy.”
You force yourself to laugh, but it comes out high and brittle. “That’s… Yeah, that’s odd. I wonder why…”
Jade, you asshole eel, you haven’t been discreet at all!
Before you can even think of the many ways in which you can exact revenge the next time you see him, Floyd’s in your face.
“Sooo, what spell didja cast on him? It’s got Jade actin’ all weird.”
“Define weird…”
“He’s stayin’ up super late to cook a buncha stuff. Keeps tryin’ to get these recipes right or somethin’ like that, and he’s bringin’ those purple flowers back from the botanical garden. S’not like him to get so…not like him, y’know?”
“Oh. Um. Uh… I couldn’t begin to explain any of his behavior. Maybe he’s just going through something?”
Floyd shrugs. “Do ya like him?”
“Like is a strong word.”
“So you love him.”
“What? No. We’re just friends.”
“So you hate him? That’s cold, Shrimpy. Jade’ll be so sad…”
“I highly doubt that.” You roll your eyes, unable to place real devastation on the face of Jade Leech. For all you know, he could just mask it with his usual simper. “I don’t hate him, but I don’t love him either. I like someone else.”
“Ooh, Shrimpy’s got eyes for another guy? Wonder who it could be.” Floyd hums, folding his arms behind his head and walking onwards. You skip after him. “Maybe it’s me? Nah. S’probably someone closer than that. Like Crabby, yeah?”
Your heart stumbles in your ribs. I can’t confess. Not now. It’s not perfect. I’m not ready.
“M-My love life is none of your business.”
“Secretive about your special someone? I getcha.” He gazes at you. “Do they know?”
“About my crush? Hard to say. If he does know, he hasn’t said anything yet.”
“Maybe ya just gotta be direct with it. Rip the bandage off. That sorta thing.”
“I want to. I really do. But…” You glance at the tiled floor. “I know he doesn’t feel the same.”
“Don’t assume stuff when ya haven’t even asked the guy.”
“But I’m positive he doesn’t like me! There’s no way he’d like me. I’m…me.”
Floyd huffs as if your self-doubt offends him. “What’s there not to like about ya? You’re great in my book.”
“It’s different. Being great and being loved—it’s not the same if it’s coming from a friend.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Why can’tcha be great and loved at the same time? Ya don’t gotta get that sorta validation from the guy you like.”
“That’s the problem. I want him to like me! I want that from him.”
“Even if he doesn’t give it to ya, s’not the end of the world.”
Without even realizing it, the two of you have made it to his dorm room. You stare at Floyd, a frown flickering on your face.
“I know. I…know. But there’s this part of me that hopes.”
Floyd leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “Why’s that?”
“Because he does these things that feel too intimate to be friendly and it seems like he might love me, too. No matter how hard I try, I can’t read his intentions. He’s so loud, but the meaning in all of that noise is quiet. It’s like… Like you’re drowning.”
Floyd stares blankly at you. It occurs to you that drowning may not be the best metaphor to use when explaining these complications to a merman who has never and will never know what such a phenomenon feels like.
“Wait. That came out weird. What am I even saying? Sorry, I sound silly. Just…forget that last part.”
“Sure, sure.” He pushes off from the wall and opens the door. “You ever think about practicin’ on anyone?”
“Like…CPR? To save someone from drowning?”
He gives you a confused look.
This is the worst. I’m not normally this dumb. If Jade was here— You stop that thought before it can form. I don’t need him to hold my hand through an interaction with Floyd. Come on, (Name). You can do this!
“Oh, you meant…” What the hell did he mean? “You’re talking about a confession, right?”
“Yeah, that’s it! You ever think about doin’ that with a friend? Maybe it’ll boost your confidence a li’l. Get ya ready for the real deal.”
“I have…never thought of that. Not once in my life. Nope. Never.”
Floyd ducks inside his room and plops down on a messy bed. You follow, admiring the very obvious divide in space. Jade’s half of the room is clinically clean—every possession organized and stowed away on shelves. Even his desk is spotless. Floyd’s half is chaos stuffed with chaos, entirely in messy disarray. When their differences are made so obvious, it’s almost amusing.
You spot heliotropes tucked away in a simple vase. Floyd wasn’t kidding. Jade really is attached to those flowers. At least they match his room.
“Then practice on me.”
“You… You’re serious?” You turn to look at him. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back on his palms.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I wanna help Shrimpy.”
“Um… You don’t have to. It’ll probably sound cringe.”
“Who knows?” He hums, smirking. “You won’t until you do it.”
You weigh your options. Practicing a confession for your crush with your crush… It could be cathartic to say everything you’ve always wanted to say without the worry that often accompanies rejection. You might even feel better afterwards.
“Promise not to laugh?”
“Promise.”
“Really promise. Like, genuinely promise. Please?”
“I really, genuinely promise not to laugh,” he parrots, holding his hand up as if swearing an oath.
You inhale a deep breath, steel your nerves, and squeeze your eyes shut.
“Okay…”
I’ve got this. It’s just a confession. A practice confession.
“I… I like you. For the longest time, I’ve been in love with you and I’ve always wanted to tell you. But… Well, it’s impossible because I never know what to say or whether it’ll be the right thing. Maybe there is no right thing.” You risk opening your eyes and find he’s focused squarely on you. Nervously, you step towards him. “You’re amazing. The coolest guy I’ve ever met. I’m so happy when I’m around you, and when we’re not together I feel like part of me is missing. Maybe that’s kinda dramatic, but it’s the truth. You’re my star. Bright and unique and effortlessly beautiful… I could admire you forever. So… So I just want you to know that…that no matter what happens—even if you don’t feel the same—you mean everything to me, and I’ll always love you.”
Floyd is unusually quiet as he sits there, absorbing your words with a flushed face. And then he reaches to scratch the back of his neck.
You fidget on your feet. “H-How was it?”
“I’m not an expert, but I’d say that was pretty damn good,” he replies with a whistle. Your heart lifts when he beckons you over. “C’mere. There’s somethin’ on your face.”
Now your heart has crash-landed in the pits of your stomach.
“Are you serious?! Why didn’t you tell me before all of that? Aah, I probably looked so stupid!” Your panicked flailing ceases when his hands settle upon your waist, coaxing you closer. “F-Floyd?”
He drags you down to his height and leans in to peck you on the lips, and your heart jumps back up into your throat. Rather than yanking yourself out of his grasp, you merely stare at him. A few seconds later and the embarrassment catches up to you.
“W-Wait… Wait, hold on! What was that for?”
He giggles. “Now it’s all gone.”
He kissed me for real this time…
You swallow rising anxieties and place your hands on his shoulders. “Can… Can I kiss you?”
“S’long as it ain’t gonna change your mind about that other guy, go for it.”
Dummy, you think, besotted. You’re that guy.
Guided by hedonistic desire, you close the distance between the both of you in the same way you once did with Jade. As humiliating as it is to admit, he was marvelous help. If not for him, you might’ve never found yourself here, kissing after a practice confession. You’ll have to thank him later.
Floyd’s lips are soft against your own, and he smiles into the kiss with a gleeful, breathless giggle. His hands are roaming along your hips, and he flops onto his bed without forewarning. You fall with him and inadvertently straddle him, your hands situated on either side of his head. You sputter your disbelief, which is soon cut short when he drags you down to meet his mouth once more. This time it’s all heady passion, more innate instinct than anything. You kiss like you’ll never have another chance, savoring saliva and a duet of sounds made in salacity.
The both of you are left breathless in the aftermath, chests heaving. If this is a dream, you never want to wake.
Floyd smiles up at you, sandwiching your face between large, strong hands. “You gonna kiss your special someone like this?”
“Maybe,” you tease with a wink. “I wonder if he prefers soft, slow kisses or quick, hungry ones… It’s hard to say with his fluctuating moods, and there are just so many ways to kiss.”
Floyd’s smile morphs into something devious, and his hands slide to your arms. You yelp when he flips you and pins you down like you’re nothing more than a portrait on a wall. You’re about to question the sudden change in position when he hoists your legs up and around his waist. He rocks his hips once, slotting himself between your thighs in a way so sensual it has you overheating. Your breath hitches.
“Then we’d better practice all of ’em, yeah?”
You nod, your voice coming out meek. “Y-Yeah…”
“Gimme some hints. I wanna know who this guy is,” he says, removing his scarf and undone tie. His blazer and hat follow suit, abandoned in the piles of dirty laundry spread around on his side of the floor.
You’re so distracted by his methodical undressing that you almost miss his demand. “O-Oh, it’s…not important.”
“It is to me. I wanna know who I’m gonna hafta squeeze for stealin’ Shrimpy’s heart.”
“Is… Is that right?” you mumble, flinching when you spot his erection straining against his slacks.
“Shrimpy’s so cute. I just couldn’t help it,” he answers your unspoken question, each syllable an octave higher with his whimsical laughter. You watch deft hands work to slide the suspenders from his shoulders before moving to unbutton his uniform shirt. You blink and it’s already thrown over his shoulder. You drink his broad build in, brazen in your assessment of chiseled planes cut in charming chiaroscuro. “So who’s the lucky guy? Is it someone I know? Someone from Octavinelle?”
“Um… It’s definitely someone…”
“Course it is. But that ain’t givin’ me any solid clues.”
His hands crawl lower, hovering just above the zip that separates you from his boxers and, additionally, his cock.
It’s actually happening… Floyd wants to do this with me… Is this real? It’s not a dream, right?
With a scintilla of courage, you lift your gaze to his face. “It’s someone from Octavinelle.”
“You sure it ain’t Jade?”
“There are plenty of people in Octavinelle who aren’t Jade.”
“Yeah, but none of ’em are cozyin’ up to ya during work.”
“Jade does not cozy up to me.” Scoffing at the absurdity of it all, you reach to undo the first few buttons on your uniform blouse. Floyd follows your fingers like they’re a laser and he’s a cat entranced. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “He’s, like, obsessed with his fungi. I think they’re more interesting to him than me.”
Floyd barks out a laugh. “Sounds about right.”
You sit up and pull your blouse from your person. At once, you feel humiliated and it’s not because of the half-nudity. Rather, it’s because the bra you’re wearing is not pretty in the slightest. Had you known you’d be rolling around in bed with Floyd, you’d have chosen something with more lace—something that’s not nearly as bland as the one you’re currently sporting.
“Well, if it ain’t Jade, who is it?”
“Guess.”
He pouts. “Shrimpy’s not bein’ very nice, makin’ me guess. You think I got every small fry’s name memorized?”
You choke on your retort when he palms you. “I… I’ll describe him.”
“Go on. I’m listenin’.” As he says this, he undoes the button on your pants, sliding them from your legs like he’s unwrapping a gift. You’re relieved your panties are, at the very least, cuter than your bra. “Don’t let me stop ya.”
“Okay… Where do I start? He’s handsome and has an unusual sense of humor, but it’s fun because he’s genuine with it. He can be a little frightening at times, but he’s never scared me. He’s so kind and he has the oddest reasons for why he does things, but he never lies about any of it.”
“Sounds like a decent guy.”
“He’s so much more than that!”
Floyd giggles and reaches for your bra next, yanking it up to free your breasts. You feel yourself getting warmer with every second he spends staring.
“It’s not Azul, is it?”
It’s a completely reasonable guess—not funny at all—but you laugh. “No.”
Floyd huffs. “C’mon, Shrimpy, you’re wringin’ me out here. Who is it?”
He moves to toy with your chest, but you pull him down instead. He’s so close you’re breathing him in like he’s new perfume. “Aren’t we supposed to practice kissing? Can’t do much of that if we’re talking.”
“Guess not.”
He seals the distance then, pinning you with his body. The hand that had previously been between your thighs slithers up to squeeze your breasts. He pinches and rolls your perky nipple in an effort to elicit all kinds of explicit sounds from the depths of your throat. Floyd’s tongue flashes into your mouth and you submit without struggle, allowing your own tongue to twine around his. Your hands roam without much foresight for where they’ll inevitably end up, fingers pressing into hard lines and well-toned musculature. You settle for looping your arms around his neck as you melt into him, sighing sweetly.
When he parts, you scramble to bring him back. “Floyd—”
“‘m not goin’ anywhere,” he promises, pressing his forehead to yours. He speaks softer next, as if fearing you might shove him away and flee. “You want this, right?”
“I do. More than anything.”
“You sure it ain’t gonna mess things up with you and your special someone?”
“I…” You purse your lips.
Is now a good time? It must be. It has to be! But…
“You don’t gotta tell me. Lemme know if you change your mind. I’ll stop,” he says, burying his face between your tits. Your fingers dig into his scalp and he groans when you yank fistfuls of his hair. His breath fans across your bare skin, sending pleasant shivers through your spine all the way to your toes.
You gaze at the ceiling, heart hammering relentlessly. “Thanks.”
“Mhmmm. Don’t mention it.”
Floyd peppers your chest with kisses as if it’s an empty canvas in need of affectionate paint. One hand continues to treat your nipple as if it’s his own personal stress toy while his mouth gravitates towards your other untouched bud. It hardens with his deliberate ministrations, his tongue tracing salacious circles. You gasp when the serrated points of his teeth tease your sensitive flesh next.
“Please—” it comes out reedy and raw— “Floyd, please bite me…”
“You suuure?” he asks even though the question is more playful than serious. His fingers find your panties next, hooking around the waistband to slide them down.
“I’m so sure—very sure! Please!”
You feel his amusement reverberate through you in waves when he chuckles. He tweaks your nipple harshly, and a sharp, stuttering moan slips from your parted lips. Floyd’s mouth comes off of your other nipple with a wet pop and he licks his way up to your collarbone.
“I want Shrimpy to forget all about that other guy. Only think about me right now.”
Buoyant with bliss, you hum your acquiescence. Every part of you burns with a desire so redoubtable it could be a manifestation of its own, tangible and malleable. Shaped for sex, splayed on Floyd’s mattress, entirely in the moment. You’re at his mercy, your pulse in his maw, and it’s everything.
His bite incites primal jouissance, fierce and predatory. It’s deep enough to break skin and sting, and you respond to the pleasure-pain with a keening cry. Your fingers curl into his hair to ground yourself while blood pools to the surface. Floyd’s tongue laps at the puncture. Crimson trickles from the mark when he pulls back to observe his work, his jaw stained red.
And Great Seven does he look attractive in the most agrestal, ruddy way.
He licks his lips clean, satisfaction shimmering in those enchanting eyes of his. Now that you’re looking at them, you’ve never realized just how splendid they truly are. Gold and olive-brown cut sharp, upward-angled sockets into his skull. He’s a work of art—your Galatea brought to life.
Before you can spend any more time studying him, Floyd presses two fingers against your mouth. You open wide to receive his digits, senselessly running your tongue over them without command. He giggles at this, reaching deeper until you’re choking.
“Not nice!” you exclaim after he’s pulled his hand away, his fingers coated in your saliva.
“Hee-hee. Sorry, Shrimpy.”
Remorseless. You love him.
Your moans are hissed through grit teeth when his fingers drag along your folds, just barely slipping in to sample the warmth within. You pull Floyd in for another sloppy kiss, licking into his mouth with senseless fervor and grinding down onto his hand to chase a far-off, budding climax. Floyd’s thumb glides along your clit, pushing your hood up to reveal the pert nub beneath. He sinks his slender fingers in then, two of them pushing through gummy walls without resistance. Your eyes roll back into your head when he does this, blissful relief coursing through your bloodstream.
“Oh… Haa—fuck. Thank you.”
“So pretty,” he mumbles, lazily pumping them in and out. “You’re real pretty, you know that? My pretty Shrimpy, all mine.”
“Do you… Do you really mean that?”
“Course I do. What? You don’t think so?”
“Yes—no, I mean… I… No one’s told me that before…”
Not true, your brain interrupts, oh-so-helpfully unearthing the memory despite your attempts to stifle it. Jade did. Jade thinks so.
“They wouldn’t know pretty if she stared ’em in the face.”
“Obviously not.” Your giggle rises in pitch, sounding more like a trembling cry when he curls his fingers. “Ah!”
You banish Jade to the darkest corners of your mind, willing him and his silver-tongued flattery away. Who cares if Jade thought it first? It means the most coming from Floyd.
Floyd’s smile is fond, his eyes soft. “Obviously not,” he echoes in agreement.
He works you open like you’re a blossom preening under sunlight, his fingers plucking expertly at your strings to make you sing. You writhe beneath him, breathing hot and heavy as your stomach ties itself in knots. Floyd peppers your face with a dozen kisses before gravitating towards your neck. His teeth prick your skin in a shallow bite. The mark that’s sucked into your skin next has you hissing through grit teeth. It’s such a simple act—not nearly as pleasurable as the fingers thrust up inside you—but it still draws such a wanton moan from you.
Your eyelids flutter shut, and you sink into an ocean of thoughts, imagining yourself, painted head to toe in love bites of varying severity, standing in front of a mirror to admire each one. Some could be veiled under the confidentiality of clothing, but others would be impossible to cover. Like the ones on your neck, undeniable proof of your thrilling tryst with Floyd.
“Fuck,” he hisses against your skin, needle-thin teeth catching on your shoulder. “Shrimpy’s squeezin’ my fingers suuuper tight.”
“Mm, yeah… I can’t help it. It feels—” you gasp when he presses down against your clit, those dexterous digits working you towards the bright, beautiful end— “aah… Feels so good!”
Even better now that your fantasies have finally bled into reality. You’re floating in and out of ecstasy at the perfect pace, guided by guiltless intimacy. The knots are winding themselves taut, on the verge of snapping, and you feel yourself coming undone—toes curling and lips bitten bloody while euphoria washes over you in ripples.
But then those long fingers are tugged out at once and it leaves your pussy clenching around nothing, your clit aching for attention. Tetchy and unsatisfied, your brows knitted, you lament the interruption. Your body burns and aches for proper stimulation—hungering for a release he’s so cruelly denied you.
“Fuck me. I was so close…”
“Gonna do that in a sec.”
He pulls away to shuck his pants and boxer briefs next. It’s done so fast it’s clumsy; he almost topples over in the rush. Floyd’s about to reclaim his place between your legs, but then he pauses.
“Condom,” he grumbles, a reminder more than a realization.
He leans over you to search for one amidst the junk cluttering his desk. Notwithstanding your better judgment, you grab his arm. He looks at you, and you swallow your inhibitions. Dangerous games will reward you with dangerous prizes. You know this. And yet…
“I… I wanna feel you.”
Floyd doesn’t need to be told twice. Grinning, he feels around, knocking items off in his impatience, before finally grabbing hold of a bottle of lube. He squirts a comfortable amount onto his palm and sits back to run his slick hand up his hard length. You reach down to spread yourself for his viewing pleasure, but instead he snatches your arm and flips you over onto your stomach. The change is so jarring it leaves you reeling.
“Wha—Floyd?” You crane your neck to look at him, but he pushes you back into the pillows.
“Stay there,” he says, but his voice has dropped a few decibels into something thick and husky. “Shrimpy trusts me, yeah?”
“I…do. But I wanted to look at you while—”
“Just trust me on this. I think you’ll like it.”
He rubs his palm against your flank, and you’re horrified by how easily you submit—that that’s all it takes to wheedle you into absolute obedience. With the blood rushing in your ears and your body vibrating with nervous excitement, you prop yourself on your hands and knees.
“Lemme know if it’s too much.”
“It’s okay. I can take it. Please… I’ve wanted this for so long, Floyd.”
“I can tell,” he teases, stuffing two fingers inside to open you up. The slick squelch that follows is obscene in the best way. “Shrimpy’s drownin’ my fingers. S’like an ocean.”
You bury your face in the sheets, flustered. “S-Sorry…”
“Nothin’ wrong with it. I’ve been wantin’ ya, too.” To prove this point, he seizes your hips and tugs you towards his waiting cock. It throbs against your bare cunt, and it’s so much more lewd without a rubber preventing you from feeling every prominent vein and thick inch. “I’ve always wanted you, but you never saw me.”
“You have? Do you really mean that or—”
Your question is promptly punched out of you when the fleshy head of his cock prods at your pussy, gradually pushing through rings of muscle. Inches are swallowed in slow seconds, and you suck in a sharp breath as his girth fills you. Floyd seems just as affected by the sheer bliss provided by your joined bodies, grunting behind you while your velvety heat wraps snugly around his cock. His fingers dig into your hips. Much like the stretch, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as you imagined it might. It’s only awkward for the first few seconds, in which you and Floyd are both adjusting to every addictive sensation all at once.
“All good?”
You hum your approval, your head spinning. He’s inside me… And it’s not a dream.
“W-What about you?”
“Never been better,” he answers with a delirious cackle. “S’nice and soft inside. Cozy.”
He moves casually, experimental for all of one minute, before he draws back and snaps forwards. You’re pressed into the mattress when he bottoms out, the breath knocked out of your lungs in one fell swoop. Shakily, you force yourself back onto your arms. You don’t stay upright for very long, though, because the pace he adopts is brutal and unabating. As if he’s waited forever for this moment. As if you might never come back if he doesn’t pound you into the bed right now.
As if the world beyond his room is crumbling to pieces and this will be the only time either of you will ever have to love one another in solitude before horrible, heart-wrenching destruction.
A confession is so far from your mind with every sinful slap of skin on skin, and any coherent words you may have hoped to produce are replaced with loud love cries. When you fantasized about rolling around in bed with Floyd, you often imagined something soft and slow—a passionate build-up to inevitable climax. But this is nothing like that. This is raw and filthy and fast. And it’s so much better than the delusional masquerade you entertained with the phony Floyd.
Why did I ever rely on Jade in the first place? you think absently, clutching the sheets in curled fists. Floyd continues to fuck into you with reckless abandon, hunched over you as if you’re a prisoner groveling for mercy and he’s your beloved executioner.
Only rather than clean, cutthroat slaughter, you’re granted love in loads. It’s physical and sweaty and sticky. It has tears brimming your lash line and blurring your vision each time he hits all the right spots. It takes all of the complicated feelings you experienced while navigating an impossible situationship with Jade and dissolves them into nothing. Because with Jade it was wrong. It was a foolish, fickle farce. One too many meaningless trysts. A dangerous game spiraling out of control.
But with Floyd it’s right. Your world, once so off-kilter, corrects itself when he pins you down with his body, warm and toned and rough, and spears you with his cock. He’s your sweet Floyd, capriciousness and all, perfect in a way you just can’t explain.
And so you surrender to rising euphoria, strung along like fresh linens billowing in a breeze.
Amidst your own moans, Floyd’s groans, and the noisy plap of his hips against your soft ass, you make a mental note to end your arrangement with Jade at your earliest convenience. After all, you don’t need the fake when you have the real one.
I’ll miss his cooking, though.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Shrimpy?”
“No one in particul—aah!”
Floyd pinches your thigh good-naturedly. “No one at all?” His hand sweeps across your stomach next, palming the area as if he’s trying to feel himself buried in your guts. “You thinkin’ about that guy you like?”
“What if I was?”
“A damn shame for him,” he says, his hips stuttering to a halt. His hands make their rounds along your body, touring every inch of your nudity. You can’t see his face, but you can feel his searing gaze. “That guy’s not inside ya, is he?”
“Not physically, no.”
“What? Is he livin’ rent-free in Shrimpy’s head or somethin’?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Tell him to get lost. I wanna live up there.”
You giggle. “Will you pay rent?”
“Course I will.” He resumes his pace after a moment, albeit at a lazy, back-and-forth drag. You whine like a whore in heat, craving more than a slow, steady filling. “Bet that other guy isn’t even all that. Not a good rent-payer like me. Suuuper irresponsible and stuff. Late on his payments, y’know?”
“Mm, he’s perfect. Everything and more,” you mumble, your thoughts scrambled like eggs. It’s Jade you picture with your next admission even though you mean to describe Floyd. “He’s actually so charming once you—ooh—get to—haa—get to know him… He annoys me, but I don’t mind it.”
“Yeah?”
He grips your hips tighter, lifts your ass higher, and drives home in one rough thrust. His hold on you prevents you from crumpling, his fingers digging deep and leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake. Your lashes flutter, eyes on the verge of rolling back into your skull.
“Mhm…”
“Hee-hee. Shrimpy’s so cute, falling apart on my dick… Bet that guy can’t do all of this.”
“Not at all! He can’t compare to you.”
Even though you don’t intend to, you envision Jade’s rictus grin then—the one he’d given you that night in the lounge kitchen when you challenged him to a dance. He’s so strange, but it’s a fun sort of strange. A strange that keeps you on edge, teetering on a precarious peak. He’s a deep-sea predator beneath that human veneer, cunning and crafty in spades, and he kissed you like he was in love that night.
It’s not love. It’s purely convenience, you remind yourself, stern. You like Floyd, and Jade isn’t Floyd.
“Jade—” you start to say, only to save yourself at the last minute— “Is… Mm—aah… Is Jade gonna be back soon?”
“Nah. S’just me and Shrimpy today.”
Shame sparks in your chest. What am I doing, calling out for Jade when Floyd’s here? I must be going crazy. I need to break it off as soon as possible.
You’ve been infatuated with Floyd for over a year now. One year of loyally loving Floyd. Not Jade. It’s never been and will never be Jade.
Chasing those conflictions away, you crawl out of your head to focus on the present. You push back against Floyd’s hips with bolstered determination, boring down on his dick to meet each of his wild thrusts. Within minutes, he’s all you can think of, flooding your brain like a tsunami. You’ve never felt so full and whole before—so connected. Carnal lust or romantic attraction aside, it doesn’t matter right now. Not when you’re swimming in bliss. Not when your emptiness has finally been filled.
All those tireless months of pining and hoping—it’s as if all of that was worth it when your wishes are granted in this very room. Even if you feel just somewhat clumsy with your movements, your body acting on its own accord, you’re relishing every second, sound, and sensation. So much so that you’re crying beneath him, overwhelmed beyond belief. Distantly, you hear him cooing at you, his voice a pleasant rumble.
You never want to come down from this seventh heaven, and you won’t because every moment spent with Floyd is utter rapture.
Floyd fucks you within an inch of unconsciousness, battering your slick, sensitive cunt like he intends to incapacitate you. The bedroom is filled with a sinful symphony of sounds, a litany of filth so loud you’re certain it can be heard down the hall. But that’s the last thing on your mind when the bundled feeling in your lower abdomen becomes unbearable, tightly wound and knotted. You strangle the sheets in shaking fists, tears falling freely.
And then, after leaning over you and getting as close as he possibly can, he wraps his hands around your neck. You startle.
“W-What’s wrong?”
“You sure there’s nothing between you and Jade?”
“Wha—no! Of course not! We’re just friends.”
“I dunno…” His fingers flex and curl inwards to apply just a little pressure. Your body stiffens, but it’s your pussy that betrays you when it clenches involuntarily. Floyd shudders against you, inhaling deeply. “You’re always smellin’ like him. Your pretty perfumes don’t do a good job coverin’ it up.”
You groan, not in the mood for this conversation. “Seriously… What is with you and smells? I’ve always smelled like me, haven’t I?”
“Can’t help it if us morays have a killer sense of smell.”
“Is it really that bothersome?”
“Would be if this was the sea.” He grips your throat with more force. Not enough to hurt you, but it has your heart spiking up into your mouth. “Guess on land it’s kinda like if you saw your special someone with another person and they were wearin’ the same shirt.”
You picture it then: Floyd with someone who isn’t you.
“Oh.”
“Yeaaah. Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Then—” you’re cut off when his hands constrict, perilous like pythons— “Floyd—”
“Say you wanna smell like me instead. I’ll make you smell real nice.”
His phrasing doesn’t indicate there’s a choice in this matter, but you don’t need to waste time deliberating. Even though you don’t intend to stall, you can’t stop yourself. The question that’s been nagging at you ever since Jade shared insight on the matter—it tumbles free.
“What does smell mean to a moray? Is it—it’s like a tracker, right?”
“You’re halfway there, yeah.” His hips connect with your cushy ass, and his grip cuts into your airflow. The muscles in your neck twitch beneath his fingertips, survival instincts seizing hold. Your breath rattles in your lungs. “S’like makin’ it known. Like tellin’ everyone you’re together. Becomin’ a pair’s real special in the sea.”
A pair…
You want to ask about the significance in that statement—about the implications of togetherness and how that might apply to merfolk. Jade gave you glimpses during previous conversations, and ever since you’ve been wrangling with wanting to know more or keeping your curiosity to yourself. You could ask him, but you’re very acquainted with his smart mouth and his proclivity for stirring up unnecessary trouble. It’s better to hear it from Floyd.
But right now breathing is imperative.
“I want—need you… P-Please,” you rasp, blinking back tears.
It doesn’t hurt, but the pressure fills your head with fuzz. Combined with the agonizing drag of his dick within your walls, it feels almost freeing. Like he’s just pulled you out of your own mind to rejoice in the present with you.
“Promise you’ll be mine. Promise…” His voice wavers, and suddenly he sounds distraught. Fragile like an eroding sandcastle, he adds, “Promise you won’t look at him ever again…”
“I’m yours. I’m all yours.”
His hands linger for a moment longer before he releases you, content with your agreement. You inhale mouthfuls of precious, much-needed oxygen, but part of you misses the rough treatment and the feeling of his hands tightening around your throat. The idea that Floyd once held your life between his palms—that he could crush your windpipe if he so pleased—is monstrously minacious. You know you shouldn’t put your trust in Floyd’s capricious, hair-trigger behaviors, but you’ve already disregarded the risks. Safe sex be damned; you want to know love under the pressure of his thumbs, squeezed into you like he’s your only other source of air. Your savior and your star—forever your Floyd.
His lips replace his hands, stamped impatiently into your nape in bloody bites. Ribbons of warmth trickle between your shoulder blades. His hips don’t halt for a second, and it stokes the fire deep within your belly with potent insistence.
“F-Floyd, please—I’m close! I—”
“I know, Shrimpy. I gotcha.” He rubs your hip encouragingly and that’s all it takes to sweep you up in the titillating throes.
You reach your summit in the clouds with an erotic shout, your vision whiting out and arms going slack. Floyd’s groan sounds much the same when your walls clench down, and he fucks you through it mercilessly. In just a few more erratic, sloppy thrusts, in which he drives his cock as far as it can possibly go, Floyd finally empties his load deep inside. The moan that rips free from his throat is so guttural it’s nearly a growl.
You’re both so drenched in sweat, but you’re alive and vibrating with giddy, sex-drunk relief.
I love you so much, you think as you ebb away from ecstasy, pulled back like the tide.
Basking in the paradisiacal afterglow of orgasm, Floyd runs a hand through disheveled teal locks. The two of you, the sodden sheets, and even the room reeks of sex. His other hand holds you in place while he slowly ruts into you from behind, riding out the buzz in its entirety. His pelvis presses against your ass while you, knock-kneed and fucked full, drool into the pillows.
And when he slides out his spend drips from your pussy in pearly rivulets.
“Haa… Shrimpy’s the best,” he murmurs with a wicked, wild, wide-eyed smile.
You’re still panting when you come back to yourself, your head pressed into the pillow. Floyd nudges you over onto your back, and you oblige with minimal effort, lying in an exhausted sprawl. Your sight clears, color spilling in through bleary cracks.
He leans over you, assessing your hazy expression with a pleased hum. “Welcome back.”
You giggle and beckon him closer. “I’m back.”
Floyd leans down to kiss you and you reciprocate just as fiercely, your arms looping around his neck. You fall all over again, enchanted by molten kisses and wandering hands. The magic dissipates when your ringtone resounds, and you manage to tear yourself away by the third chime.
“Sorry. Let me silence it.”
“Kaaay.”
Floyd lounges on his side, the duvet draped across his hips. You crawl out of his arms to sort through the disorder on the floor. As you bend over to retrieve it, you catch him staring, his eyes following the length of your legs to the mess spattered between your thighs.
He flashes his sharp teeth at you in a broad, nonchalant grin. “It’s a pretty ass. I like what I like.”
You hold your phone up, smirking. “Pictures last longer.”
“And memories don’t, so you’d better stop by often so I won’t forget.”
“It’s a promise,” you tease, glancing at the screen as it brightens with a slew of missed messages. They’re all from Ace, and you scroll through them with mild interest. Apparently, Ace got into an argument with Grim over the pudding in the fridge. Both want it even though it has your name on it, and now Ace is being much too flattering in an effort to curry favor so that you’ll be inclined to let him have it. “He’s unbelievable…”
“Who is?”
“Ace.”
You sit on the edge of Floyd’s bed. He reads the texts over your shoulder and snorts. “Crabby tryin’ to get on your good side, huh?”
“Not sure why he’s bothering to ask, though. He steals food from me all the time. This shouldn’t be any different.”
“Maybe he likes ya.”
“As if. We’re just friends.”
“Yeah? You say that a lot.”
You crane your neck to look at him. “Do I really?”
“Mhm. If you and Jade are also ‘just friends,’ what does that make me and you?”
“I… Um. Hm.”
You watch your reflection on your darkened phone screen as it twists into something pensive. Tentatively, your fingers trace over the smooth glass. What are you and Floyd? You’re friends, but you’re also more than that. Surely, right? Friends don’t join their bodies in unholy communion. Or do they? That’s what you’ve done with Jade and you’re nowhere near romantically attached. Perhaps your relationship is some nebulous stage between friends and lovers?
Does Floyd even like me like that, or was this just a spur-of-the-moment fling?
“I…should go,” you say instead, standing up.
“Aww. But ya just got here. C’mon. Lemme get ya some water or somethin’ to eat. There’s no rush.” He reaches out for you, but you step back. His face falls. “Shrimpy…”
“Sorry. I just—it’s not your fault.” You refuse to meet his eyes as you collect your clothes from the floor, hurrying to dress yourself. “Thanks for the offer. Really, I appreciate it and this was a lot of fun. But I… I need to get back to make sure Ace and Grim don’t tear each other apart over a single cup of pudding.”
The fresh bites on your neck sting when your clothes brush against them, but nothing hurts more than Floyd’s downcast expression. You don’t want to leave, but you can’t stay and tiptoe around the answer to a question you’ve just started contemplating.
“We’ll talk later. Sorry…” You shuffle towards the door, tongue-tied and awkward. “I really did enjoy this.”
To your disappointment, Floyd doesn’t make any attempt to pursue. “See ya.”
“Yeah… See ya.”
You step out into the hall, the door shutting after you. The weight of it all comes crashing down like a disastrous surge of sea and you drag your hands over your face to stifle your regretful groan.
I messed up. I should’ve just confessed. The opportunity was right there, so why didn’t I? Why can’t I? What the hell is holding me back?
No, not a what. Rather, a who.
And you can’t bear to confront that.
Behind the door, sitting upright on Floyd’s bed, Jade musses his hair until that stray dark strand falls in its rightful place. There’s laundry to be done, and a clever cover-up must be fashioned to protect what already seems like an open secret. But right now he can’t be bothered to spring into action. Not when he’s still steeping in post-sex exhilaration, a corybantic smile etching itself onto his face.
It’s a glorious day.
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“Can’t ya just dump it out if ya don’t wanna drink it?” Grim, who has spent the past three minutes observing you observing the glass vial, suggests with a harrumph. “Looks fishy. I don’t wanna drink it and I love drinkin’ stuff!”
You frown and lift it towards the window; the sun catches off the shiny surface, but its rays don’t break through murky cerulean. “Azul said I could add any part of myself to this and it would work. I added saliva, but the color went from white to this icky, impenetrable blue. It probably tastes just as bad as it looks. Gross! Now I’m not so sure I wanna uphold my end of our deal.”
“He’ll never know if you give it the slip.”
You fix Grim with a disapproving glower. “He’ll definitely know. He’s Azul.”
“I dunno what to tell ya, but if we keep chattin’ away like this we’ll miss first bell.” He hops off of the stool, lands perfectly on all fours, and struts out of the kitchen.
“Since when were you such a star student? Wait… First bell?” You gasp and dash past him. “Move, Grim! I’ll miss Floyd if I don’t hurry!”
On your way out, you tug your shoes on, taking care not to trip in your haste, and stuff the vial in your pocket.
“Jeez! Way to be a ‘star student’ and leave me to haul our heavy textbooks to Trein’s class!”
“Sorry! I’ll make it up to you at lunch! This is really important!” you call out, hurrying down the steps.
You’re breathless by the time you make it into the main building, taking in great gulps of air. A few students turn and stare, but you don’t pay them any mind as you weave through the crowded halls in search of Floyd’s classroom. You spot him then, lingering at the end of the corridor, and you hasten your gait to reach him.
“Floyd, oh, there you are! I need to talk to you. It’s about—”
“A good morning to you, too, (Name).”
Horrified, you come to a screeching halt. “Jade… Shit, I’m sorry. I thought that you—I mean, you look like Floyd from afar… Well, of course you do. What am I saying?” Inhaling a deep breath, you try again. “I don’t have time to talk. I gotta find Floyd. Also, our deal’s off. You don’t have to act like him anymore.”
“Oh my. How sudden. I wonder what brought this on.” He smiles behind a gloved fist. “Do enlighten me.”
Fidgeting from foot to foot, you glance left and right. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done. You’ve been a big help, but I’ve figured it out now. It was stupid and inconsiderate of me to make you pretend to be someone you’re not. So the game’s over. We can go our separate ways and all of this—” you gesture between him and you— “will be behind us. Done and dusted. Dead and buried. Part of the past.”
Jade tilts his head, playing clueless for another second before he decides to let it click. “Ah. I suppose this means you intend to confess? In that case, please don’t let me stop you. Floyd’s already left for his class. I doubt he’s gone very far.”
You’re already pushing past him, your nerves riddled with hope. “Thanks! See you around!”
“It was an enjoyable month.”
Taking pause, you turn to look at him. Even though his hand is across his chest and he’s issuing you a cordial smile, you can’t tell if he’s being truthful. It can’t have been all that enjoyable to play such an elaborate part. Or perhaps it’s not the part but rather the delights that came with it: dinner, conversation, and companionship. If it weren’t for these unorthodox methods, you and Jade wouldn’t be nearly as close as you are now.
Somehow you’ve become friends in all of this chaos.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure. It was definitely…a month.”
Before awkwardness can balloon between the both of you, you step into a sprint and disappear around the corner. Confidence swells within you. Now that you’ve emptied your mind of Jade, you can focus entirely on Floyd and your very impromptu confession.
There really wasn’t anything there after all, you think as you round another corner. I can’t believe I got worked up over something so silly, and it was completely nonexistent!
As if foretold by fate itself, a meeting strung in the stars, you notice Floyd at the end of the hall. Unable to contain yourself, you run the rest of the way to catch him. The morning bell resounds then and students heed its toll, filing into their respective classrooms. But you’re here for someone who’s so much better than your perfect attendance record, and he happens to be looking your way.
“Hey, it’s Shrimpy! Whatcha up to?”
“Morning, Floyd! Do you have a minute? I was hoping we could talk.”
He nods. “Wasn’t really feelin’ class anyways.”
“Yeah, same here!”
“So what’s up? You have somethin’ to tell me?”
“Right! Yes!”
I have to tell him. I can’t keep running away.
“It’s about that day… Um. I… First of all, I’d like to apologize for being weird and ruining the mood. I didn’t know how to explain our relationship, but I’ve sorted it out now. And if it’s okay with you, I’d like to be more than friends.”
Floyd blinks at you, stone-faced. That can’t be a good sign.
Endeavoring to salvage this one-sided chat, you attempt to elaborate on your previous declaration. “You asked what we were that day and I… I couldn’t give you an answer because I was scared of admitting it, and I had no idea where we’d go from there. The truth is—I really like you. A lot. I have for a while now, and if you like me I wouldn’t mind making it official.”
You’re doing fine, you tell yourself, but you’re wringing your hands and Floyd won’t stop looking at you like you’ve grown fins.
“Oh, I get it,” he says after a long moment. “So Shrimpy likes me? That right?”
You nod. Anxiety squeezes your heart in a fierce fist.
“I’m flattered. Not every day a li’l Shrimpy tells me she’s got a thing for me.” Floyd grins and stuffs his hands in his pockets. You’ve imagined this same scenario a dozen times, but your brain never accounted for how casual he’s acting. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t accept your feelings.”
“W-What?”
You…misheard him, right? He didn’t just say that, did he?
“I think you’re super cool, but that’s it.” He shrugs. “S’better stayin’ friends, ain’t it? ’Sides, you and Jade are pretty close. Not gonna lie, I thought you were a pair this whole time. Didn’t know it was this serious, though.”
Much like the blood pumping through your veins, your heart freezes over. “N-No… No, not at all! Jade and I are just friends.”
“C’mon, Shrimpy. I’m not stupid.”
“I… I don’t understand. Floyd, we… We…” You swallow encroaching tears and bolster the ebbing strength in your voice. “Did our time together mean anything to you?”
“Course it did! Still does. We’re friends. That’s not gonna change.” Floyd cards a hand through his hair and sighs. “Shrimpy, you’re great and all, but if you’re with Jade you don’t gotta lie to me. I’ve been smellin’ him on ya since day one.”
“But we’re not together!” He raises a disbelieving brow, and you groan. “I’m serious. I don’t know why I smell like him. We don’t wear the same perfumes. Wait. Does Jade even wear perfume? I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk about it. So maybe you’re just smelling my perfume! That has to be the reason—”
Floyd gives your shoulder a consoling squeeze. “I’m not mad or anything. S’cool if you wanna mess around with Jade. I don’t care what you do.” His face darkens with a frown. “Just don’t lie about the obvious.”
“But I’m not lying! We’re not an item or couple—whatever it’s called! I… I like you, Floyd. I always have.”
“Maybe ya shoulda figured that out before ya started lettin’ Jade mark ya.”
Shock and revulsion prickle your skin. You open your mouth to object, but every rational explanation remains jumbled. Floyd issues you a lopsided grin, which adds even more salt to an already gaping wound.
“Hey, if it makes ya feel any better, Jade’s a good guy. He’ll look out for ya. ’Sides, Shrimpy’s better off with a responsible type.” He reaches out to ruffle your hair, but you step away.
All of those times where you thought Floyd may have been courting—the flirty remarks, the perfume, the kiss, and even the sex—were those merely platonic gestures twined with friendly affection? You may have been able to believe the others, but you’re certain there’s a line between platonic and romantic. And sex must fall in the latter category. It has to. If not, was it all just temporary, fleeting fun?
Were you just an experience for Floyd and his mercurial mannerisms? A new toy for his enjoyment, intended to occupy his mind for however long you proved your worth and shelf life.
You turn swiftly on your heel, your throat closing up. “T-Thanks for hearing me out, at least,” you mutter, blinking away hot tears. “I… I’ll see you later.”
If you weren’t so devastated, you’d have commended yourself for your impeccable restraint. You manage to walk away without sparing him a single glance, but the minute you’re out of sight and earshot you’re running through the desolate halls, seeking solace in solitude. The tears come with the ache, a pain so gutting it has you near-wailing as you navigate labyrinthe passages. You hardly care if any straggling students spot you. You’re too crestfallen to fret over what others might think when they look at you.
Heartache headlines your thoughts as you stumble into a stagger, your chest heaving from the run and your excessive bawling.
I know it was stupid to have hope, but I was so positive I had a chance… It seemed that way when we slept together, so what happened? What changed? You wipe furiously at your face, but it does nothing to stop the incessant downpour. This is a mess. I never should’ve confessed. I did everything wrong. And what’s worse is he didn’t take me seriously because he thinks I’m dating his brother!
It doesn’t make any sense, but then this drastic change of heart is so characteristic for Floyd that you struggle to think of any other valid causation.
Did he get bored of me? Am I really that terrible to hang out with? You shake your head. It’s not that. It’s Jade and his stupid scent and that stupid marking and—
You feel the vial in your pocket then, straining against form-fitting fabric. Sniffling weakly, you dig it out and peer at your blotchy-eyed reflection in the glass.
I might as well see what this potion does. I have nothing else to lose, and there’s no way I can go to class looking like this.
As if your body was subconsciously aware of your decision to skip, you find yourself standing in the Mirror Chamber minutes later. Quiet and dimly lit, the room has a certain coldness to it when you venture further inside and approach the Dark Mirror. Your distressed face blinks back at you from the blank surface, and you cringe once you notice the smudges in your makeup.
“I’m such a loser,” you mutter, scrubbing at your cheeks. “Crying like a baby over some guy…”
A guy who meant the world to me. A guy who was so much more than just some guy.
You yank the cork out of the vial and, steeling yourself, chug it in one determined gulp. It goes down bitter, tainting your tongue with a foul, brackish aftertaste. Disgusted, you wipe your lips and stuff the empty glass in your pocket.
“(Name)?”
You whirl, half-expecting to find Floyd waiting to accept you with open arms. Instead, Jade stands in the doorway. His brows are knit in concern. Authentic concern, you realize. Tears overflow at the sight of him, tracking down your cheeks in salty streaks.
“I do hope I’m not intruding.”
“You are. Go away.”
Undeterred, Jade covers the distance to reach you. “My apologies. I couldn’t help but notice you seem to be in dire need of a friend.”
You force out a sardonic laugh. “Right. Because you’re just the friend I want.”
“At the very least, may I offer my condolences? I can only assume the worst after seeing the state you’re in.”
“You just did. Now leave. I don’t want to see anyone right now, especially not you.” But he isn’t offended by the hostility in your voice. Rather, he procures a handkerchief from his uniform pocket and offers it to you. Heaving a defeated groan, you snatch it and blow your nose into the soft linen. “I don’t suppose you want something in return for your kindness?”
“Not at all. If anything, I merely wish to see your happy, dry face.”
You roll your eyes. “I’ll feel much better once you get lost.”
“And leave you to mourn all by your lonesome? I couldn’t possibly.”
You dab at your eyes with the sodden, snotty handkerchief. “It’s not funny.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” Jade smiles and bumps hips with you. “If it’s worth anything, there is so mush-room in my heart for you.”
Your face scrunches with odium. “Ew… That’s so cheesy.” You’re reminded of Floyd when you look at him, and it fills you with another bout of anguish. Why can’t he be Floyd? You bury your face in your hands and sob. “This is the worst! I wanna disappear. Drown in the Coral Sea and get lost forever. Then no one would ever have to see me like this and I’ll never have to face Floyd again.”
“Surely you don’t mean that.”
“I do. Now leave me be. I wanna wallow in peace.” When you fail to hear his shoes clicking against tile, you peek at him through the cracks in your fingers. “It’s hopeless, Jade. Floyd doesn’t feel the same. There’s still no way for me to go home. And now I don’t even know if Azul’s potion is going to work, which means I’ll be breaching our contract!”
“Quite the series of unfortunate events, no?”
“So please just go away.”
Sighing, you press your fingertips to the Dark Mirror’s warped surface and admire the ripples spreading outward from where your palm rests. It’s almost hypnotic, drawing you in with its alluring opacity. You lean closer to inspect the cloudy mirage, placing both hands against it, but that proves to be a grave mistake. Tugged in by some invisible force, you stumble and fall through. You don’t have time to scramble to safety, for there’s a blinding flash of light and then you’re engulfed in smothering silence.
You feel it first—the weightless cradling of waves—and when you open your eyes a stunning seascape greets you. The sandy floor and colorful coral reefs extend in endless stretches. Schools of fish pass overhead in a mosaic of hues. You gape at your mystical surroundings, realize you’re underwater right as the awe settles in, and hurry to swim to the surface. But when you try to kick your legs out, a tail moves instead, sloppily propelling you upwards. You somersault and flail like you’re falling, but you aren’t drowning. In fact, you can breathe.
Whoa. This is so strange. How exactly do I swim?
It takes an awkward minute for you to get a hold of your bearings, but once you do you take stock of your newfound mer anatomy. Your hands are webbed, fingers curling into sleek, sharp claws, and fins protrude from your arms and back. They flutter like fine skirts in the current. Your tail is just as fetching; speckled with red and pink shades, it matches the coloration found on your other fins.
“So that’s what Azul’s potion does,” you mutter, flexing your tail. “Amazing…”
You feel along your body for scales and gills, yelping when your fingers brush over the latter. They’re soft and sensitive, shuddering in the current.
I’m a mer…
It finally sinks in, and you roll around in the sand, whooping and shouting in excitement.
“I’m a mer! How cool is that?!”
You push off from the sea floor, testing your new tail with a few clumsy strokes. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t take very long for you to learn the motions. Within minutes you’re gliding through the water like a bullet. You hug the bottom of the ocean, running your fingers through the sand as you swim expert circles around the same rock formation.
Suddenly, your broken heart doesn’t feel so cumbersome anymore. Your tears mix in pelagic waters, but after touring your vast surroundings for a while you can’t even tell if you’re still crying. While keeping up with the current, you swim past an octopus who drags itself across the sandy floor, its muddy-orange tentacles curling like snakes.
“So pretty,” you whisper, smiling sadly. “I wish Floyd was here…”
It hurts.
There’s no way to circumvent the pain without further opening the emotional lacerations left by rejection and misunderstanding. If you had smelled like yourself, would he have accepted your confession? Would the two of you be walking through the halls, holding hands and chatting like a couple? Or would it have played out the same regardless of Jade’s involvement with you?
If Floyd never loved you to begin with, that would mean all of your practice confessions and subsequent embarrassment were for naught. Maybe Jade was right and this entire thing was nothing more than an amusing spectacle.
Thanks a lot, Jade, you think, seething. Instinctively, you scrub your tears away even though there’s no point to it when you’re surrounded by water. How did I even start smelling like him in the first place? We didn’t wear the same shirt or anything like that… Ugh. Morays are so confusing.
But, gripe and whine as you might, there’s nothing you can do to change an immutable fact: Floyd does not love you.
And it really hurts.
You know the sadness will soon subside and, months later, you’ll look back on this very moment and laugh about your misfortune. Despite that, the passage of time and its healing properties don’t provide an iota of relief.
Don’t think about it anymore. You turn over on your back and float through the water. Since I’m here, I should gather the supplies Azul wanted.
You rack your brain for the list and come up empty. It’s then when you realize Azul never shared this list with you and that, had you visited him prior to your emotional tragedy, he likely would have told you.
“Damn it! Now how am I supposed to get what he wants?” you complain, thrashing your tail as if it’s your legs and you’re trying to throw a tantrum. “I could guess… Or maybe he wants a little of everything?”
You attempt to put yourself in Azul’s head, concentrating on all of the spell ingredients you’ve learned in alchemy class, but none of them seem to fit what Azul might be seeking. After all, anyone can acquire seaweed and shells and mer’s tears. Azul must be after the scarcities of the sea. What those scarcities could be, you haven’t the faintest inkling.
The sea floor slopes down, and you follow the dip towards what looks to be the yawning mouth of an underwater grotto. It certainly looks so with its massive stalactites and stalagmites, which reminds you of the crooked maw of a beast. It would have been a foreboding sight if you came down here with a limited supply of oxygen and scuba fins, but you’re a mer and nothing can startle you. Not even the depths at which you exist.
You poke your head inside the opening. Before you can investigate any further, though, a shadow passes overhead. It slips through the water like a silent assassin. You’re not unnerved when you track the length of the perimeter, looking to and fro for the mysterious figure you caught in your peripheral, but the longer you spend looking the quieter your surroundings become.
The fish scatter.
And then terror descends, only he’s a familiar one. He’d be a sight for sore eyes if he wasn’t such an eyesore.
“You’re living up to your surname.”
He smiles, teeth glinting. “My, my. Aren’t you just tickled pink?”
“Which is weird because all I see is red when I look at you.”
“Is that so? The depth at which we’re at swallows most vibrancy, and yet you remain wonderfully bright. Are you sure you’re not a fallen star?”
You fix him with a nasty glare, but it does nothing to deter him. “Seriously… Why are you here?”
He circles you, his serpentine body winding slowly. “Would you believe me if I told you I came to check on you?”
“Depends. What’s your reason for checking on me?”
“As I’m sure you know, Azul is not partial to insolvency.”
You slide past him, smacking him with your caudal fin. “Good to know I’m so cherished.”
“I wouldn’t dare let a dear friend drown. I’ve heard drowning is very miserable business for humans.”
“More miserable than a broken heart?”
He catches up to you. His size easily overtakes you in length and strength, marking him as a formidable predator. Even with your claws, you can’t compete with his pointed teeth, sleek, sturdy build, and razored fins. He’s a natural hunter, whereas you feel like more of an ornamental fish in comparison.
“Depends. Will you recover from death?”
“I’ve spent so much time with you, so I’d say it’s possible.”
“And I was ready to save you should you find yourself in peril.”
You roll your eyes. “That’s about as comforting as a blatant lie.”
A few beats pass between the both of you. You don’t try to fill the silence, too busy fawning over your aquatic surroundings to bother. Jade analyzes you with furtive glimpses.
“I’m aware our deal is void and that I’m no longer your Floyd…” He swims closer, nudging you with his shoulder. “May I be your Jade instead? You can be my grouper.”
“Your what?”
“Many mages believe transformation potions provide insight into what species you may have been if you weren’t born in your current form.”
“So you’re saying, if I was a mer like you and Floyd, I’d be a…grouper? Is that what I am?”
“A strawberry grouper, to be precise. Very fitting, is it not?”
“Would Floyd like me better if I had been born a grouper instead of a human?”
Jade laughs. You swat at him in flustered retaliation. “It has nothing to do with species.”
“It has everything to do with species,” you snap with a scowl. “Wasn’t the mermaid princess forbidden from pursuing a relationship with her human prince?”
“That’s true, yes. Although I fail to see your point, considering it worked out in the end.”
“What I’m saying is—if we were both mers, maybe it’d be easier.”
“I suppose it would be considerably easier to foster a deeper bond if you lived in the sea alongside us, but I’m afraid love doesn’t always work like that.”
“How would you know?”
Jade gazes heavenward, and for the first time you see sadness in his sharp, intelligent eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with the moon and she is forever out of my reach, so I know what it’s like to wish on something that may never happen. Sometimes I catch myself wondering if the dismal nature of my situation would change if I had been the singular star in her universe. Perhaps then she would finally see me.” He glances at you and attempts a smile. “There are galaxies of stars up there, but the star she fancies happens to shine brighter than me.”
Oh… So he does know what that feels like.
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever for?”
“I don’t know. I guess it just felt like the right thing to say.” Your shoulders rise in a weak shrug. “The moon is impossible, Jade. Your romance is doomed.”
“All the more reason to appreciate her.”
“Why haven’t you given up?”
Jade swims ahead, humming his contemplation. “There are astounding amounts of everything in this world. There will always be plenty of fish in the sea—just as there will always be plenty of humans on land. But there is only one of her. So even if she doesn’t look at me, even if our romance has been doomed from the start, I will never stop loving her. She’s the only one in my universe.”
“Huh… That’s a beautiful way to put it. If it’ll help, I can act like her and you could practice your confession.”
“We’ve come full circle. Perhaps a confession wouldn’t hurt… Ah. Forgive me for adding to your despondency with my own woes.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” But then you reflect on his familiar phrasing and a sneaking suspicion crawls into your head. Unwilling to confront it, you change the subject. “So what’s the real reason you’re here? To watch me struggle to collect all of these unnamed things for Azul?”
“I considered that, but it would be much too cruel of me to subject you to such ridicule.”
“You’re an asshole. Just tell me what I’m supposed to get.”
With a chuckle, Jade rattles off every item. You recognize some of them—pearls, starfish, a Great White’s tooth—but the rest are resources you’ve never even heard of.
“Noctiluca… What’s that?”
“Bioluminescent algae.”
“Oh. Are you sure we’ll be able to find all of this stuff? Some of it sounds, like, super rare.”
“It’s possible. With me as your guide—”
“You’re really going to stick around?”
“And let you swim right into the maw of a predator? I’m not monstrous.”
“You sure you’re not that predator?”
Jade swims ahead, craning his neck to eye you hungrily. His lengthy tail curls around you and squeezes playfully. “Shall I hunt you now and we can determine which of us is the true predator?”
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”
“It’s simply a hypothetical.”
“Why would we even hunt each other in the first place?” You duck down to sift through the silt for shells or, if you’re lucky, a shark’s tooth. “I thought we had something.”
“Do we?”
It’s too late for you to take that back. “We have mutualism,” you correct yourself, pulling a palm-sized pink conch from the sand.
“Some might call that friendship, (Name).”
“Friends with you? As if. You’d trade me for this shell just because it’s funny.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re worth more than one, at least.” Jade joins you on the seabed, his larger, webbed hands searching alongside yours. “Your companionship is invaluable to me.” His hand bumps yours in the sand, blackened fingertips twining with yours.
“You know… Floyd told me something.” You grip his hand tightly to prevent him from retreating. With the way he perks up, muscles stretched taut with anticipation, you don’t think he intends to flee. “He said you’re awfully touchy with me and that you’re not usually like this.”
“You provide me with the most entertaining reactions. Besides—” his voice lowers for effect— “was touch not the foundation of our deal?”
“Not anymore.” You release his hand from your hold and dart forwards. “Although I guess it was kinda pointless. All of that just to be rejected by Floyd in the end.” You round on him once he’s within your proximity, prodding his chest with a claw. “Because now he thinks I’m dating you. Apparently I smell like you. I have no idea what that could mean, but it obviously isn’t a good thing if it’s one of the reasons Floyd turned me down.”
“Plenty of mers scent their partners. It’s territorial—a means of proving to others that they’re a bonded pair. It’s also convenient when they need to locate their beloved in a crowd.”
The conch falls from your hands, floating back to its resting place on the sandy floor. Shocked, you pin him with a wide-eyed stare. “You… You’ve been…scenting me?”
He nods.
“On purpose?”
“Just for fun.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief. So Jade sabotaged your chances with Floyd. Jade did. All for fun. Jade was scenting you on the sly. For fun. Fun!
Now you’re really viewing him in scarlet.
“Jade Leech, I’m going to kill you!” You lunge at him, blunt teeth bared and claws out. He opens his arms to receive you, smiling all the while. “You did that on purpose—to prevent me from getting with Floyd! What the fuck?!”
You crash into him, and the impact sends the two of you tumbling through the water in a tangle of limbs. He indulges in this one-sided snafu, albeit without the hostility you’re so clearly demonstrating. Jade wraps himself around you to hold you still while you attempt to gouge his eyes.
Soon, the scrap mellows out into a struggle for escape. You try to slip out of his constrictive grasp, but every time you think you might have attained freedom he tightens his hold on you. Eventually, with no other way out, you submit, deflating in his arms like a popped balloon.
“If you wanted a hug, you could have asked. There’s no need to be so circuitous about it.”
“The last thing I want is a hug from you! Now let go of me!” He allows you to squirm out of his coils. You swim in circles, which you now realize is the mer equivalent of pacing. “I can’t believe you. What did you have to gain from any of this? ‘Just for fun,’ my foot! You just wanted to ruin my life like the stupid, asshole eel you are!”
“I was hoping to cushion you after the inevitable.” Jade tilts his head at you, feigning sympathy. “Did you really think Floyd would have reciprocated? You heard him yourself. He considers you a friend. Nothing more and nothing less.”
“Cushion me? The only thing you did was make me smell like I rolled around in the cushions with you!” You swipe at him, but he moves away on reflex. “If Floyd sees me as a friend, why would he sleep with me?”
“So that’s why our room smelled so thickly of you.”
“Don’t play dumb.”
“Then don’t ask dumb questions.”
He’s the worst, you think, repeating it like a mantra. The worst. The worst. The worst.
But then he’s the only one who chases after you even when you push him away.
At that, you laugh. Jade blinks at you, startled by your sudden shift in attitude.
“This is a mess,” you bewail, shaking your head. “Out of all the people at NRC, I can’t believe you’re the one seeing me like this.”
“How many times has it been now?”
“Shut up.”
Jade chuckles. “You may find it undesirable, but to me it’s quite the charming trait. Even at your worst, tears and all, you’re still yourself. It’s what I admire most about you.” He approaches you, minding the icy vitriol in your scowl, and cups your cheek. “After all, did we not agree to be a mess together?”
You meet his mismatched stare, openly admiring his well-sculpted body and the patterns striped along his arms and tail. There isn’t an ounce of Floyd to his mannerisms. From the way he carries himself to the purr of his voice to the irritating quips he loves to spout, he’s Jade. And you wouldn’t have him any other way. He is your friend, and denial isn’t enough to convince you otherwise of this dysfunctional, disorganized friendship.
Sighing, you tear your gaze away. “We’re a mess, yeah. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with smelling like you! That’s such a dirty trick!”
“I can be dirtier if it pleases.”
“It does not please! Start counting your blessings so I can properly kick your ass!”
“I wish you luck in that endeavor,” he says, offering you a toothy grin before turning away and propelling himself towards the surface.
You watch him go, debating whether it’s worth it to pursue him. This feels like the beginning of another game, but you can’t calculate the danger level. It’s the ocean; the possibilities are just as vast.
You’re an enigma, Jade Leech. I’ll never understand you.
Leaving all thoughts of Floyd and your shattered heart on land—stowed away in the shadows of the Mirror Chamber—you accept his proposal for a chase. He doesn’t have to tell you he’s pleased when you zip after him, weaving through the tight crevices and openings in hulking rock formations. Your shadow eclipses colorful coral reefs and tall seagrass. Jade moves much smoother and quicker than you, sensing all of the twists and turns before they even come up.
Of course he’d be a natural, you think, impressed with his graceful slither. He grew up in these waters playing tag. He and Floyd have probably chased each other through places just like this one hundreds of times.
Still, you aren’t about to let your inexperience get in the way of capturing him.
Between your on-off hunt and collecting ingredients for Azul, in which Jade goads you into continuing the chase when you least expect it, time passes above. You’re not sure how far into the day you are, as your surroundings hardly change beneath the surface, but you forget all about it when you swim through a kelp forest in hopes of finding a starfish. Even with your heightened mer senses and predatory assets, you keep close to Jade as the both of you glide through strands of kelp.
“When I was an elver, I used to believe starfish were stars who fell from outer space.”
You flinch at the sound of his voice. Everything seems much louder in tranquility. “Oh. Uh. Why’s that?”
“My mother often told us that merfolk who have passed on become stars in the sky and that there are times in which those same stars yearn for the sea. But they can never hope to return naturally, for they are bound to the sky. Thus, they force themselves to fall, lose their shine when they land in the ocean, and become sea stars.”
You keep your eyes glued on the stretching forest ahead. “That’s neat. I probably would’ve believed that story if I was a mer. We tell all kinds of stories about merfolk where I’m from.”
“Is that so?”
“Merfolk don’t exist in my world, so they make for great legends.”
“A world in which merfolk are nonexistent… How fascinating.” Jade gazes at you, his hand twitching towards yours. Rather than acting on his innermost desires, he curls his hand into a fist and it hangs limply at his side. “You must have been over the moon to have met Floyd.”
“And you and Azul!” you add with a smile. “And I have you to thank for teaching me all about moray mers.”
“I’d be happy to teach you more, should you be willing to learn…”
Jade’s looking at your lips next. The both of you are so close. Just a little closer and you could…
“Hey, I think I see a starfish!” You hurry ahead before the tension can become any more magnetizing.
Do not make him your rebound, you lambaste while retrieving the star-shaped creature. If you had legs, you’d kick some sense into yourself. Just because he looks like Floyd doesn’t mean he is Floyd.
You bring the starfish back to Jade, who bottles it in a bubble and whisks it away with a flick of his wrist. You’re not sure where any of these items are going or how he’s keeping track of them, but as long as they’re gathered you aren’t going to question it. Magic works in mysterious ways, or so you’ve determined after spending a year of your life in Twisted Wonderland.
From there, you return to your place at Jade’s side, albeit with a healthier distance than before, and exit the kelp forest. You scan the vast vicinity as if you might find something unusual amidst all of this blue. It reminds you of every Floyd fantasy you’ve ever had—the ones in which you were living happily ever after in the sea. As ideal as those delusions were, you realize now that they were just as impossible as Jade’s infatuation with the moon.
“It wouldn’t have worked anyway,” you admit, to which Jade hums his acknowledgment. “What would I do if Crowley was able to send me home? How could I choose between my loved ones there and my loved ones here?”
“Perhaps you’ll never have to choose.”
“What do you mean?”
“Supposing the headmage is shirking his investigation… Well, that would certainly eliminate the difficulty of choice.”
You laugh. “The first magicless student to graduate from Night Raven College. What a headline.”
“Sensational news,” he adds in a dramatic tone.
“As if the illustrious NRC and the oh-so-kind Headmage couldn’t get any popular.”
Jade chuckles. “Have you thought that far ahead?”
“What? About the future?” You slide into a somersault while Jade swims above you. He stares down at you as you spin yourself dizzy. “Don’t want to. I have no idea where I’ll be after graduation or what I’ll do. It kinda scares me.”
“You’re more than welcome to lean on me should you ever require my assistance.”
“What’s that thing Azul always says? Pay the heavy toll to cross the bridge? I’d like to graduate debt-free, thank you very much.”
“I’ll always be here for you.”
You blink up at him, shocked by his benign declaration. After a moment of floating aimlessly on your back while he swims overheard, you giggle. “Come on. Be real, Jade. That’s impossible.”
“Is it? You’re a mermaid, are you not?”
“Yeah, but that’s temporary. Besides, a deal like that is way too mutualistic. We’d just seem like obligations to one another.”
“Must it be transactional?”
“What else would it be?”
“A friendly favor.”
“I don’t trust that… Somewhere along the line I’ll get trapped in a scam.”
“And I will rescue you.”
You roll your eyes and turn over on your stomach, propelling yourself forwards in hopes of leaving him and this conversation behind. He mirrors your slow pace, twisting himself to loop around so that you’re above and he’s below. He waves. You groan.
He just won’t quit, will he?
“Okay, let’s be hypothetical. Say I accept your help for the future. What would you want in return?”
“What indeed?”
“I doubt you’ll want a lifelong taste-tester.”
He shakes his head, soft, teal locks swaying with the motion. Bathed in dappled light, he looks breathtaking. Too good to be true. An echo of the supernal, enchanting and arresting in that weird, whimsical way you’ve grown to appreciate.
He’s so annoying.
“Then what, Jade? Stop being obtuse.”
He smiles, sharp features softening, and says, “I would like to continue being your friend.”
“That’s all?”
He nods. “That’s all.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, what do you think I might want?” He reaches for you, his hands running up your arms to tug you closer. “If I asked for your hand, would you give it?”
You float above him, not quite chest to chest yet. “Marital mutualism, huh?”
“It’s cost-effective and comes with many benefits.”
“Like?”
“You could be my taste-tester indefinitely. I would cook for you every day. All of your favorite foods, and you can share your critique.”
“You’re not selling it,” you mutter, impassive.
He pulls you within kissing distance. “You can continue to hone your techniques with me.”
You open your mouth to retort, embarrassment scraping at your throat, but a distant twinkle in the dimming depths distracts you. There’s another flash of light and then, seconds later, dozens of lights surround you. You swim out of his grasp to explore this curiosity, your confusion segueing into excitement once you spy hundreds of bright tendrils. Moon jellyfish illuminate the area, casting you and Jade in bewitching bioluminescence. You whirl to view all of them at once, your eyes wide with wonder.
“It’s amazing…” you whisper.
Jade observes you from where he lurks in the shadows below, a wistful look in his stare. It adds deceptive age to his youthful features, but you don’t notice that. Bold and brave, you venture deeper into the fray, weaving through the fantastical cluster with finesse. The jellyfish hang suspended in the gloom, and they remind you of little lanterns the further you swim. This sight is a treasured rarity—something you’d never be able to experience firsthand like this if you were viewing it through thick aquarium glass.
This view is breathtaking! I can’t believe Jade and Floyd grew up in such a wonderful place.
On any other day, the boundless sea may have terrified you if you were reading about it in a textbook or watching divers’ found footage. But right now you’re in awe of these magnificent creatures as they drift in calm currents. Your first visit in the Coral Sea had been on a strict time crunch, and you hadn’t gotten the chance to explore any further than the grounds of the Atlantica Memorial Museum. The second visit had been one of leisure, if only because you were no longer arranging gambles with Azul in an effort to free the anemones. And now you’ve returned, equipped with fins and the promise of unforgettable sights.
And Jade’s with you.
He was there for your previous times, too, his presence mostly unremarkable. While you were loving Floyd from afar, he was there. You’ve always wondered why he stayed and entertained your mischief. You’re not anyone’s dream girl; you’ve never been the first choice, and that’s a part of life you’ve made peace with.
When you’re with Jade, you’re made the first and last choice. The only choice.
“Jade, are you seeing this? It’s so pretty! You’re—” you turn and almost bump heads. He’s so close and— “glowing…”
“My, my. Is that a bona fide compliment?”
“No. I’m serious. You’re glowing!”
He’s something of an angler with his mesmerizing markings. The patterns on his body are bright with a shocking luminosity, so radiant that you lose all interest in the jellyfish. You’re transfixed by him, and it’s purely instinct when you seize his hands to inspect them. He shrinks away, diffident.
“Ah. So it would seem… Forgive me for outshining the jellyfish.”
Your brows furrow. “You’re being weird.” Releasing him, you orbit him like he’s the sun and you’re a spellbound planet. He continues to pack himself into something small. “Are you not supposed to glow?”
“This is a perfectly normal facet of moray mer behavior.”
“So then what’s up? You’re avoiding me.” It hits you then, and a wide grin cuts into your cheeks. “Are you…embarrassed?”
Jade flushes up to his fins. You didn’t think it was possible, but the intensity at which he glows increases. “I fear I may have underestimated my own biology.”
“This is new! Jade Leech acting shy? I never thought I’d live to see the day.”
He forces a hollow chuckle. “I suppose it was inevitable.”
“What was?”
“This is the culmination of any mer’s attraction.”
Your heart stumbles in your chest. “Wait. Is this—does this mean you…”
“When mers wish to mate or attract a mate, they… Well, to be forthright, we glow. Floyd and I are bioluminescent by nature, but this glow is different. Ah, but that much is now apparent…”
You stare at him in all of his coruscating glory. “You want to mate with…me?”
“If you’ll have me.”
“Oh, you’re serious,” you murmur, breathless. Hesitantly, you approach him. “Then can I—may I take a closer look?”
“Please do as you see fit. Body language can’t possibly get any more candid than this now, can it?”
You giggle. “Seems pretty treacherous, too.”
“To think biological imperative would be my undoing…”
Your hand splays across his bicep, tracing the luminous bands wrapped around it. He really is a magnificent merman.
One more game, you promise yourself, restraint as thin as Jade’s lukewarm lies, and we’ll never play again.
“I like it. This is the most honest you’ve ever been with me.”
“Charming, is it not?”
“Very.”
He gathers you in his arms, and you mold yourself to him like you’ve done so many times in the past. You’re taken to the seafloor next, lowered onto the sand amidst wavering seagrass while he presses his pelvis to yours. You scrabble for a handhold on his broad shoulders, arching up into him when he rocks his hips. His tail winds around yours, and he anchors himself to you at the bottom of the sea. Above you, jellyfish swarm. Bulbous and bright, they backdrop Jade like a velvety void of stars and provide enough spotlight for you to see every inch of him. Although with just how much he shines, you wouldn’t even need the jellyfish.
If anything, they just make this tryst even more quixotic than it already is.
“After this—”
You start to speak, but you’re soon silenced when he fits his lips against yours, viciously venereal. Jade’s tongue slips past your parted lips, tangling around yours in a kiss that lasts far too long. Without the need for oxygen, neither of you separates. You throw your arms around him and kiss like you’re starved. Bubbles rise from your joined mouths, produced between gasps and groans. His teeth click against yours, and after minutes of canoodling you finally manage to yank yourself away.
Jade surges forward for another kiss, but you block him with your hand. “H-Hold on…”
“Is everything all right?”
“What will we be after this?”
“What would you like to be?”
You grab his face in both hands and hold him still. Your thumbs brush the markings stamped into his cheekbones. Jade trills at your touch, gills fluttering. A tiny heartbeat thrums beneath your fingertips.
“I… I’m not sure. Is it worth it to label our—this? Whatever this is?”
“Our mess. How does that sound?” His hand covers yours, pulling it away to hold it. “An exclusive dalliance between two.”
Friends with benefits, you think, every sense delirious. Desire feels hotter and heavier than it’s ever been, a puissant swirling in your stomach. You wonder if the potion altered your brain chemistry in some way—temporarily rewired your human instincts to suit that of a mer’s. That’s way too dangerous.
“And you’ll be yourself. You’ll be Jade, right?”
“I wouldn’t be anyone else, my dearest.”
“Let’s not go too far,” you warn, laughing. “Thin ice.”
“Is ‘my dearest’ not to your liking?” He leans in to bestow a chaste kiss to your throat, nuzzling the area right at the juncture between shoulder and neck. “I find it most fitting.”
“It’s…not the worst thing someone’s called me.”
He draws away, his eyes narrowed. “Not the worst? Others call you by delightful endearments?”
“Hmm? Jealous you’re not first?”
“Quite.” A scary smile curves his lips up. “So I’ll resolve to be the first by ridding myself of those inconsequential barnacles who think it wise to stick to you.”
“Wooow. How fearsome. But I’m just kidding. No one’s called me anything like that before…”
“So I’m the first?” he asks, proudly puffing his chest out.
“Yeah, yeah. Gloat all you want.”
“Gloat I shall. It’s tremendously gratifying to be your first.” Unlike his usual smiles, this one is pure and jubilant. There are no secrets concealed within, nor does he hide his teeth. “How fortunate I am to be here with you. To have met you. To bask in you…”
His eyes flutter shut as he grinds against you with more force, and you hiss out a soft moan when his slit, sticky with slick, slides against yours. Jade sighs, digging his claws into the sand to ground himself above you, and slips into a slow, gentle pace. You study his contorting features as he rubs himself against you, his brows furrowing and mouth dropping open in a tiny ‘o’ shape.
“You’re so sensitive,” you remark, toying with his quivering gills. Your fingers dip inwards to feel the spongy filaments, and he shudders through a low whine.
“Ah, yes… Mm, I suppose…I am.” His yellow eye is alight with lust when he cracks it open to peer at you. “I confess I’ve wanted this for a while.”
You shouldn’t push it any further than you already have, for you know the dangers that accompany the truth. You shouldn’t instill false hope in Jade when he’s already so hopeful, and you definitely shouldn’t play his game when you’re very aware of what waits for you at the end.
You shouldn’t, but you do.
“I can tell. I’ve only touched you here, but you’re already unraveling.”
“Then allow me to return the favor.”
You squeal when his claws drag along your gills, his touch careful despite his intentions. When he looks at you next, it’s as if he’s readying himself to devour you. He curls his fingers like an expert and you writhe beneath him, your lips parting in muted moans. Flustered, you attempt a glare, but it falls short.
“Now we’re a rightful match.”
You giggle between gasps. “Not fair… I don’t know mer anatomy like you do!”
“Would you like an experiential lesson?”
“Is that what we’re going to call this?”
“We could…” Jade moves based on vehement instinct, his hips colliding with yours. You throw your head back when his slit brushes against yours once more. It’s soft and squishy, entirely hairless. “If it were up to me, I’d prefer something far less technical.”
“Coitus isn’t doing it for you?”
He laughs. “I want to become a pair, if only for today, and make love to you.”
“‘Make love’ sounds a little…”
Jade searches your face for the underlying meaning in unspoken words. You try to hold eye contact, but your gaze wanders to the jellyfish above. His sigh draws your attention. “I understand. Making love would imply a romance that has not yet come to fruition.”
Even now, I’m trying to run away, you realize. What am I so afraid of?
Should you yield to his wishes? Should you be impetuous and play another dangerous game? You’ve agonized over similar questions before, weighing right and wrong on your internal scale, and the answer has always remained the same: You shouldn’t, no matter how tempting it may be. Because to play these games, you must be willing to tango with trouble.
I’m the worst at making good decisions and the best at making bad decisions. I really should work on flipping those…
“Just for today,” you concede with a grumble, “we’ll become a pair.”
Whether or not you come to regret it, playing pretend has always been your and Jade’s favorite pastime. That will never change.
“My, my. Aren’t you impressionable?” he jests with a coprophagous grin.
“Just shut up and kiss me, you stupid, asshole eel.”
And he does just that, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that’s all twisting tongues. You melt alongside him like sorbet in the sun, your tails braiding as one. There’s catharsis in crawling out of your head to focus on the present, where it’s just you and Jade in this silent sea of jellyfish. You push rationality and sorrow aside, favoring carnal delights instead, and entangle yourself in another tantalizing tryst. You kiss and bite in equal measure, digging your claws into his shoulders while he marks you, just as ferociously proprietorial.
Your lips are bitten puffy in the aftermath; you taste blood in your mouth, so you lick your lips clean of the substance. You bring him down to bite into his neck, hoping to match your bite with the ones he’s previously left on you, but he stops you.
“Dangerous,” he rasps, rolling his hips until something foreign sprouts between your bodies, the tip prodding at your own slit. You gasp and arch towards him. “Our blood is—mm—it’s not safe…for consumption.”
“Really?” you ask, not believing him for a second.
“Truly. Would I lie about that?”
“Coming from you, yes, you absolutely would.”
“I’m being truthful this time.” You roll your eyes at this time, and he elaborates: “Our blood is harmful to many mammals, especially humans. The tiniest amount could kill you. Even if your teeth may not be sharp enough to pierce my skin and you’re currently a mer, I wouldn’t want to risk it.
“Thought you would.” He raises an eyebrow, so you add, “You love risk.”
“Not if said risk involves endangering you. I care about you, (Name).”
You gaze sidelong at the sprawling seafloor. “R-Right…”
“If you were to ingest even a fraction of my blood, you’d suffer dreadful muscle cramps. I’m certain you value your life to some degree, yes? A bound heart would be most painful. Besides, I’m more fond of the risk with long-term consequences. Risks you neglect to see coming are intoxicating.”
“Yeah, that sounds more like you.” You giggle and run your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch, rumbling with amusement. “So what are these ‘long-term consequences’ you love so much?”
In reply, he simply smiles.
“You look so creepy!”
You give his hair a punishing tug. That thing that had been poking you earlier—it wriggles free from the slit that once confined it. Jade lifts himself off of you so that you can view it. Thick and tapered, lined with an odd set of nubs, his cock is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. You react on impulse, curiously wrapping your webbed hand around it. It twitches at the contact, curling into your palm as if seeking a fleshy embrace. You startle, eyes blown wide.
Jade sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw clenched tight. “Well, what do you think?”
“It’s…different. A good type of different!” You stroke him and watch the unique appendage squirm. “So this is it… Interesting. I never would’ve imagined this is what it looks like. And it moves as if it’s got a mind of its own!”
“Haa… I’m pleased to have shocked you.”
“You always do. Now what other tricks do you have in store?”
“Plenty. That I can assure you.”
You wonder if you should fear the implications of the plenty he’s mentioned, but those worries are knocked out of your head when he lowers himself on top of you. His cock slides against your slit. Your heart pumps into overdrive as you anticipate it, your body burning with a new sort of itch. Jade traces two fingers along your lips before spreading them in a slow, deep thrust. You thrash and buck up towards his hand.
“Don’t drag this out… Please, Jade, I want it—”
“How badly?”
You groan. “I hate you. I’m not going to say it.”
“Then you won’t receive it.”
“Please? What happened to friendly favors?”
“That doesn’t apply here.” His smile is so serrated it could slice you. “So I’ll ask once more—how badly do you want it?”
You mumble a desultory reply.
“You’ll have to speak up, my dearest.”
“I want it more than anything.”
“More than what?”
You shoot him a scary scowl. “I’m not saying it.”
“I can wait.” For the sake of being himself, he adds a third finger. It’s not enough, and every digit rests still and shallow inside. You cry out in displeasure. “More than whom, (Name)?”
“You’re so mean! I won’t say it!”
“C’mon, Shrimpy. You can do it…” Your walls flutter around him, and he whistles and withdraws his fingers. “Attagirl. Now say it and I’ll give it to ya.”
I’m going to kill him.
You have more energy to resist, but you’re too impatient to play the long game. So you fall victim to the act just as you have in the past. “Fine! Okay! I want it more than Floyd! I want you more than him. I… I want you inside me. You, Jade. Not Floyd.” With a huff, you add, “There. I said it. Does that satisfy you?”
“Oh, very much so.”
He thumbs at your hips, adjusting himself only slightly so that the tip of his cock is kissing your slit. You pull his ear fins in admonishment.
“Asshole eel.”
“Gorgeous grouper. The prettiest lady I’ve ever seen, even in obscenity,” he murmurs, opening his mouth at you.
Comprehending the message, you gape right back.
Unlike your original body, your mer form doesn’t require much preparation. It’s an odd thing, but when your gummy walls swallow more and more of that peculiar cock as it’s eased in you begin to think you were designed for sex. This form possesses the impossible flexibility you lack as a human, your slit suited to take the monstrosity that is his member even without the foreplay. You steal glances between your joined bodies and Jade’s face as it shifts through the stages of pleasure. He almost collapses on top of you once he’s fully sheathed inside, his grip on you so tight that his claws cut into your skin. The sting is but a whisper amidst the sheer fullness settled within your stomach.
“You—” he bows his head, groaning lowly— “truly are a dream…”
You throw your head back, whining when he hits a certain spot bundled within. You’d marvel at his ability to reach those areas if you weren’t already so overwhelmed with ardor. His movements are sloppy while he pursues the proper pace, filling you like it’s second nature. All you can do is hold on to his shoulders and revel in the sensations of this new body. When his hips connect with yours, it’s as if puzzle pieces click together. As if the two of you were made for this moment and every other one that’s come before it, a perfect combination reaction. As if, rather than Floyd, it was Jade who was meant to fill the cavern in your heart all along.
A dream…
It’s not just your presence that’s comparable to a dream. It’s the situation and the scenery—the players and their motivations who make the dream come alive, even if it’s built on physical attraction and lies. You wouldn’t call yourself an actor, for an actor is able to separate themself from their role, and you wouldn’t view Jade in that way either. You can’t. Not when he’s above you, every bodily, emotional truth on full display.
You’re just yourself, as you’ve always been, and Jade is Jade. There aren’t any roles to act out here at the bottom of the sea. No need for either of you to pretend to be people you’re not. No need for the phony Floyd to play a parody of a love that will never come to florescence.
If you keep saying such heartfelt things, I’ll fall.
You pull Jade down into another hungry kiss, to which he reciprocates with the same ravenous energy. The both of you gasp into the other’s mouth, desperate to reach orgasmic bliss way up in the troposphere. It didn’t seem so in the beginning, but now, when he fucks into you like this is his last day on Earth, it feels right. You’ve never viewed Jade in rose tint. In fact, he was so insignificant in your life that you failed to comprehend his very existence. Your sight often narrowed to encapsulate Floyd, exiling everyone else to your peripheral, and he became less of Jade Leech—his own person with unique hobbies and talents—and more of Floyd’s twin—the body double who could pass as Floyd if you looked at him from the wrong angle.
But now that same Jade Leech, the one you’d thought so little of before, is making love to you beneath a blanket of jellyfish.
Winding yourself around him, you hold firm to keep him pinned on top of you. “Please don’t stop! Please keep go—oh—going,” you plead, eyes rolling back when he does just that.
“As you wish,” he manages through grunts. “I won’t stop until you’ve had your fill—until all you can think of is me.”
“If that’s the c-case—” you dig your fingers into his back— “you—haa—will have to try harder.”
“Oh? And yet you were so easily satisfied when I was Floyd,” he teases, grabbing your hips and driving himself home in deep, riotous strokes. You tamp down a bawdy moan. “Am I not enough?”
“Not that. Different… It’s different when you’re—oh!” Your weak glare is directed at the jellyfish rather than Jade when he nips at your shoulder. Bolts of pleasure shiver through you when he sinks his teeth in to suck a vicious bruise into your skin. “You’re such a cheat.”
And so annoying. Just like that time in the botanical garden.
“But you’re thinking of me, are you not?”
Your eyes snap back to his. “Not true.”
“I’m flattered.”
“W-Whatever! It’s just beginner’s luck.”
“I’d wager you’ve thought of me before.”
“Only when it’s inconvenient.” You huff, but even that sound is swiftly replaced with another filthy moan when he bites into the spot just above your breast. “Not my fault you look like Floyd.”
“I don’t think that’s the reason,” he mutters into your skin, hips stalling out into something slow and steady.
Now you’re vexed, your pleasure withering at the lack of stimulation. “What does it matter?”
“Because I love—”
You pull him away from your collarbone to silence him with a kiss. He blinks at you in the aftermath, mystified.
“I know.” Strangely, the admission doesn’t unsettle you as much as you thought it would. “Your body told me.”
Plenty of times, in fact.
“You needn’t respond,” he mumbles, cradling your cheek in a fond hold. Sadness swells in his eyes, and your mushy heart skips a beat. “I’m well aware of how deep-rooted your affections for Floyd are.”
They’re subject to change, you almost say, but it sticks in your throat. Can they change? Is that possible?
“I… I’ve always kinda known, Jade.”
“Have you now?”
“You weren’t very covert with it.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.” His lips ghost over yours in an almost-kiss. “I have no reason to hide my feelings. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
You run your fingers over his gills, engrossed in his glimmer. “Why? I thought… I mean, isn’t hiding stuff your thing?”
He heaves a shuddering sigh at your titillating touches. “Loving in silence is far too suffocating for a moray.”
“I see…”
And you do. You see it in the way he holds you, the way he kisses you, the way he speaks to you. The way he looks at you, the way he cooks for you, the way he acts around you. From the moment you shook hands on a crazy deal, you were wrapped up in love. It was never about food critique or entertainment; those were secondary to the truth. Jade agreed to help because he loves you. Jade stifled himself—snuffed all of the pieces that comprise Jade—in order to be Floyd because he loves you. Jade spent hours learning new recipes he thought you’d like because he loves you. Jade is an ever-present force in your life no matter how often you shove him to the side because he loves you.
Everything he does—everything he is right now—stems from the love he feels for you.
You’ve always loved others, your heart much too big for its own good, so it’s new to feel that same amount of love reflected tenfold. Tears spot your lash line. Jade coos at you in a musical mix of foreign syllables and sounds. Mermish, you suspect.
“‘You’re beautiful in saltwater,’” he translates. “It’s a double entendre we say here, meaning you’re beautiful when you’re under the sea and when you’re crying. It comes from the two interpretations of saltwater.”
As if you couldn’t cry harder, you do.
“S-Stupid,” you whisper through your sniffles. “How can I not think of you when you say something like that?”
Jade rests his forehead against yours, smiling sincerely. “These are my feelings. You needn’t accept them, but I would be happy if you could acknowledge them.”
“I do. I hear you.”
“Thank you.”
I should be thanking you, dummy.
He kisses you again, and unspoken words melt away into body language. Jade makes love to you like you might break at the slightest thrust, his hips molding to yours in a lazy, loving tempo. It’s comforting and calm to feel his weight on yours, a reminder that he is your beacon amidst all of this desolation and darkness. Insatiable, you and Jade wind around each other like snakes, moaning into each other’s mouths at every opportunity. You’ve never felt more weightless, so much so you’re floating. In this underwater paradise, time is nonexistent and your turbulent thoughts are carried away on the waves.
With his ministrations, the fiery ache in your belly sparks with new life. Your glutinous walls clamp down, which draws a pleasured hiss from Jade, and you breach that special, orgasmic surface with a cry. It’s soon swallowed in another greedy kiss, and all you can do is blindly pursue his tongue, your eyes squeezed shut. The throes of pleasure overtake you even as he continues to fuck you through it, unwilling to let up for even a moment.
It’s perfect—a puzzle finally pieced together.
Jade reaches his zenith shortly after you, his hips crashing against yours in one final thrust to fill you with cum. It’s unlike human sperm, thin and watery, but there’s so much of it. You consider asking for the biology lecture, but you’re so caught up in cloud nine that it’s a chore to work your heavy tongue.
Next time I’ll ask.
Jade—cool and collected Jade—flops on top of you afterwards, completely drained. His cock twitches limply inside of you, but he’s too exhausted to slide out. Not that you’re complaining. The connection is much appreciated.
“Sex is…not very messy in the sea,” you mumble, reaching to pat his head. He hums beneath your palm. “I guess it makes sense because these bodies don’t sweat.”
“Mm.”
“And there’s water everywhere, so fluids won’t last long either.”
“Mm.”
“Huh…”
“Mm.”
You run your fingers through his hair, watching in awe as the strands waver in the water. “Are you okay, Jade?”
“Yes… Yes, I’m fine now.” He lifts his head slightly to look at you. “My apologies. I…may have gotten lost in the moment.”
“It’s fine.” You issue him a hazy smile. “So this is what Jade’s like post-nut. Cute.”
“Please,” he murmurs, giggling deliriously. “I can assure you I’m normally much cooler. More coherent, too.”
“I never said this side of you wasn’t cool.”
“No, you did not.” His hand covers yours, squeezing faintly. “Thank you, truly, for everything.”
“Jade, I—” You hesitate, gather your words, and continue: “I want to be the one to thank you for everything. You didn’t have to put up with me for this long. You still shouldn’t have to, but you do. So… So thank you. I’m happy to have you in my life.”
“I am forever fortunate to have crossed paths with you.” His fingers curl around yours and he brings your hand up to his lips. “And I will continue to feel so for the rest of my life. There’s no need to offer your gratitude. Being here with you is more than enough.”
“Ooh, so romantic. Everything you say is so…princely. Are you secretly fairy-tale royalty?”
“Would you like to meet my father and find out?”
“Ugh. Forget I said anything. You’re so two-faced.” You tear your hand out of his clasp.
Jade chuckles. “It wouldn’t be a very long swim. My mother will adore you.”
“You’re shameless. We still have to collect the rest of the stuff for Azul.”
“He’ll live.”
“I’ll be indebted to him.”
“And then I’ll get to see you more often.” Jade pets the bloody bites littering your skin with overt adoration. “What wonderful luck, no?”
“You’re seriously the worst!”
“You don’t mean that.”
He’s right; you don’t.
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You’re not perturbed by the signs, or lack thereof.
Firstly, your period is notorious for being late. Secondly, you haven’t felt a sliver of sickness ever since Jack offhandedly remarked that you smelled different. When asked to explicate, he told you in that gruff voice of his: “Sweeter. Not like your perfumes. This is a natural sweetness.”
You were wearing your favorite fragrance at the time, so when you sniffed your wrist and turned up with a noseful of Date Night you figured Jack must have mistaken the two. Surely a wolf beastman can have a faulty nose. It can’t be correct all the time, right? Even now, after listening to similar remarks from friends and acquaintances alike, you’re convinced a mistake has been made.
After all, nothing’s changed.
Today, however, it’s Azul who wrinkles his nose at you when you walk past him in the lounge. The busy atmosphere requires his presence, hence why he’s joining you on the floor. He’d be a welcome appearance, if not for his bizarre reaction.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says with another snuffle.
You narrow your eyes. “Don’t tell me I smell weird, too. That’s all I’ve been hearing lately.”
“Surely someone’s told you.” He folds his arms across his chest. “If not my distracted customers, I would hope one of your friends has clued you in by now.”
“I’m not distracting them on purpose, Azul. But, really, you ought to be happy. It’s bringing in more money. Lots of tips.” You gesture to yourself with your free hand; the other is occupied with a tray full of plates. “Aren’t I doing you a favor?”
He hums, fixing his eyes on the clustered crowd. Jade and Floyd make their rounds, as do the rest of the lounge staff. “And you’ve been feeling well? No illness or discomfort of any sort? Any unusual symptoms?”
“What does my smell have to do with any of that?”
Azul offers you a pleasant simper. “For the right price, I may be able to speculate.”
“Nice try. Like I’d fall for that.”
You pivot on your heel and head for your designated table, hips sashaying all the way. For a while you were paranoid that you smelled foul and that your perfumes couldn’t mask it, but when you asked Ace and Deuce they couldn’t pinpoint the issue either. It was then when Ace joked that your uniform seemed a size too tight, and your concerns evaporated all at once—as did Ace’s comment when you and Deuce chased him through the halls to wring an apology out of him.
Grim doesn’t agree with their assessment, but then you can never tell if he’s being serious when he grumbles about your smell or how you’re like a human furnace now. Winter is approaching; of course you’ve started to bundle up to accommodate for the chilly weather. But Grim insists this is different. Agree to disagree, you compromised and left it at that. Jade had been your last resort, who weighed in with a smile and some cryptic nonsense about ‘delightful consequences’—whatever that meant. Consulting him was a fruitless effort, as he proved to be about as much help as the rest of the school.
Azul doesn’t know what he’s talking about, you think as you serve the table of students. I’ve never felt better.
Just as you think that, though, your body chooses to ridicule you. When you step away from the table, fatigue washes over you and you stumble on unsteady legs. You brace yourself for the floor’s cruel kiss, but the impact from the collapse never comes. Strong arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you upright, and then you hear him. Your star.
“Whoa! Careful there, Shrimpy. Don’t go fallin’ on us.”
“F-Floyd!” You stare up at him from where you remain slumped in his grasp. The world spins and presents you with three Floyds. You blink them away until there’s one, and by the Great Seven is he handsome in his uniform. “Thanks for catching me…”
“Don’t mention it.” He helps you to your feet, patting you down for extra measure. “All good?”
“Yeah… Yeah, totally. Sorry. I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine, and the next I was so exhausted I couldn’t walk straight.”
“You get enough sleep?”
“I could do better, but I had to pull an all-nighter. Maybe I’m not eating enough? But then Ace said my uniform looked tight… Do you think I’m coming down with something? But I haven’t felt sick either. Just hungry. Seriously… What’s going on with my body?”
Floyd looks through you rather than at you, his face scrunched in contemplation. He leans closer, sniffs you once, and then pinches you through your shirt. You flinch.
“H-Hey! What was that for?”
His mouth spreads in an obnoxiously smug grin—the sort that tells you he’s worked out the solution to a mystery you’ve yet to recognize. “Just testin’ something. You’re smellin’ more like Jade these days. Mama’ll be happy knowin’ he’s got himself a li’l lady friend.”
You bristle, warming under his knowing gaze. Of course Jade’s scent is fresh on your clothes. Prior to your shift, the two of you rendezvoused for a quick round of kissing and bickering over the title for your mutualistic relations. It’s not love. It’s convenience. You fool yourself with this lie because part of you is still so hung up on Floyd. Though your affections have dimmed considerably since that day in the Coral Sea, you still catch yourself fantasizing about him and the future you could share. Although, after everything that’s happened with Jade, you’re not sure where your heart lies.
Jade is not the other half to your pair, but neither is Floyd.
But Jade is always around and he likes you; Floyd does not. And sometimes you think Jade will make it official—that he’ll confess again and you’ll echo the sentiment this time because you have nothing to lose and you’re always waltzing on the border between love and lust. You await that day with hopeful horror.
Everything has changed even if it doesn’t feel like it.
“I am not his lady friend. Not like that.”
“Sure you aren’t. And I’m not a moray.”
“I’m serious!”
“Course you are. I just don’t believe ya.”
“You—” Scowling, you move to swat at him, but the noisy growl of your stomach stops you in your tracks. “Y-You didn’t hear that!”
“Guess it’s better bein’ hungry than sick. Surprised you can even keep anything down.”
“What are you talking about? That makes no sense.”
Floyd shrugs. “Nothin’. Just sayin’ it’s damn good luck is all. These sorta things make humans suuuper sick.”
“Okay… Cool. Thanks for the input?”
Floyd snatches your fedora, indicating he’s ready for a chase and that this conversation has ended. “Hee-hee. You’ll figure it out soon.”
“Wha—hey! Get back here! I wanna know right now!”
Like a brainwashed fool, you pursue because he’s still your star—the eel you’ve idolized ever since you met him. Those feelings are impossible to squash, but it doesn’t matter. Floyd isn’t bothered, and perhaps that’s for the best. His nonchalance allows the two of you to remain friends even in the wake of your confession.
Nothing has changed between you and him.
Looking on with mounting interest, Azul pulls a very proud-looking Jade aside. “You seem pleased.”
“As a peach.”
“Am I right to assume you have a contingency plan written up?”
“And for what contingency must I plan?”
Azul scoffs at his deliberate pussyfooting. “You tell me. Your intentions evade me at present.”
“Is that so? And I thought I made them perfectly clear all those months ago.”
“You did, yes, but I fail to understand how any of this benefits you if she’s still so enamored with Floyd. Do you intend to make a marriage out of this noncommittal not-romance?”
“Azul, you jest. I’m not someone who plays for second place or consolation prizes. Of course I’ll marry (Name). She won’t have a choice.”
“You’re not even romantically involved.”
“Not by human standards.”
“No, I suppose not.” Azul watches as you, oblivious and secretly enceinte, follow Floyd to the kitchen to retrieve another set of finished orders. “A child is a commitment in more ways than one.”
“As are twins.”
He doesn’t shudder at the sight of Jade’s razored smirk, but he does raise an inquiring brow. “What makes you think that?”
“Moray eel intuition.”
“Hah. I see. (Name) won’t be very thrilled.”
“Perhaps not. But we’ll be here to help, won’t we?”
The two exchange a devious glance. Azul snickers. “Oh, but of course. I am nothing if not a compassionate, benevolent soul.”
“Your generosity parallels that of the great Sea Witch,” Jade agrees, a hand held over his heart.
“It was reckless, but I must admit I’m impressed.”
“Why, thank you. I do so enjoy playing dangerous games. The risks are profoundly metamorphic, but the rewards make it worth my while.” His two-toned eyes track your figure as you flit about the lounge with Floyd. “I’ll do whatever it takes. If I must play Floyd for the day, so be it. If I must swallow her in my shadow so that no one else dares to look for her light, so be it. These are the lengths I’m willing to go to for her. She is my everything. My dearest. My moon.” Jade glances at Azul, a manic grin darkening his features. “And rather than confine myself to the role of a single star seeking her approval, I’ll become her universe. Then there will be no need to compete with other stars, for I will be the only one she’ll ever see in this starless solar system.”
“What a frightening face… You and (Name) really are a match made in madness.”
“Aren’t we just?”
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ghcstao3 · 4 months
Text
“Come on, stupid thing. Work.”
Soap has been toying with an old radio for the better part of an hour now, ever since he’d gone digging through the safehouse’s storage and discovered the thing. Ghost’s headache has only grown since.
“This fuckin’—“ Soap mutters a string of curses under his breath. He smacks the side of the small device. “Is a spot of entertainment too much to ask for? Christ.”
Right. Because they’re trapped in the cabin overnight at least, and according to Soap, that demands they find something to pass the time. Unfortunately the deck of cards Soap had also pulled out was missing half its count, and the books on the shelves have too-faded print between their insect-eaten pages, so the radio it is.
God forbid they sit in silence and mind their own.
Finally, the wretched thing crackles to life. It’s all static as Soap searches through frequencies, and Ghost has to suppress a groan. Even Soap’s mumbling had been more bearable.
“Hold on… I think… yes!”
The faintest melody filters through the ancient speaker, just a channel of classical music since it’d be unlikely that much else would be reaching them where they’re holed up.
Ghost is making a mental count of his inventory for the nth time when a hand appears in front of his face, beckoning. Ghost raises an eyebrow at the mischievous look on Soap’s face.
“Dance with me, LT,” he says. “Not taking no for an answer after all the trouble I’ve just been through.”
“I don’t dance, sergeant,” Ghost replies flatly. “Find a better partner. That’ll waste your time.”
“You’re such a wet blanket.” Soap rolls his eyes, but still doesn’t retract his hand. “It’s just us. I won’t tell anyone if the big, bad Ghost does a bit of dancing. Swear it.”
Ghost scoffs. Soap snatches his arm and hauls Ghost to his feet despite his resistance. The music fades and resurges with the radio’s signal as Soap drapes Ghost’s arms over his shoulders and settles his own hands on Ghost’s waist.
“Not takin’ the piss, are you?” Ghost grumbles. “Gonna teach me how to waltz, Johnny?”
“Maybe I will,” Soap says matter-of-factly. “‘S that a problem, Lieutenant Riley?”
Ghost frowns. “Is when you use my full name.”
Soap snorts. “Yeah, okay. Just shut up and sway to the music. Indulge me a smidge, would you?”
Though Ghost huffs, for whatever reason he can’t find it in himself to pull away.
As they do, in fact, sway—for a brief, terrifying moment, he thinks that maybe this isn’t the worst thing in the world, like he thought it’d be at first. Like he is trying to argue his brain into believing.
And he doesn’t mean the dancing part itself.
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inkedells · 11 months
Note
ok but a drabble involving dbf!joel worshipping shy!reader's pussy after he fucked it full of his cum, just admiring it and playing with it... I NEEDDD
A/N: jesussss this is like the filthiest thing i've ever written i'm sorry in advance
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m!dni | requests open.
tags/warnings: cumplay, begging, slight degradation (but joel is still affectionate), pet names, cum eating, grinding, lap-sitting
masterlist
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“Joel, please, just five minutes. Just—Just put it in, I’ll be quick.”
You sat on your knees between Joel’s spread legs, running your hands along his inner thighs. He didn’t even spare you a glance, feigning interest in whatever he was reading in favor of watching you get increasingly desperate.
So you slipped a hand down to your panties, rocking your pussy against your fingers.
“Please,” you breathed, “Joel, I-I need it.”
Book in hand, he pulled you up by the arm harshly until you stumbled into place on his lap.
“Go ahead,” He instructed in an unbothered voice, his eyes never leaving his book, “Take what you want.”
You bit your lip, putting your arms around his neck and leaning forward until your face nestled comfortably against it.
“No,” You mumbled shyly, grinding in his lap, “I want you to do it. I like the way you fuck me.” You felt his hardness between your legs as you messily rutted down on his clothed cock.
“And which way is that?” Joel asked, still refusing to even look at you, “How do I fuck you?”
You breathed a shuddering exhale. “Rough. You… use… it.”
Joel swallowed at that, which was your sign that your efforts were beginning to take effect on him. You knew just what to say. “And you don’t have to pull out.”
Now that got his attention. He settled his book down on the small table next to him before finally making eye contact with you. “Bed. Clothes off. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
You smirked.
And of course, Joel fucked you exactly how you described you wanted it—he always did. He made sure you felt used by the time he got you on all fours, completely naked while he remained fully clothed. He drove into you over and over and over, the headboard slamming against the wall as he told you things like, "My girl's takin' it so well, ain't she? Made for getting fucked," and, "God you're so fuckin' tight, squeezing me so good, baby," and, "Soak my dick, sweetheart, get it wet. Mhm, just like that."
You were reduced to a whimpering mess by the time he filled you up with his cum. Now, his thumb prodded over your entrance, dipping into it a few times, but that was before he decided to push his cum back inside of you with the tip of his cock.
“You look beautiful like this. Fucked full of my cum. Go ahead, push it out again, wanna watch it leak.”
“N-No,” You whined, “Please, I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna lose any more of it.”
“Oh, little girl, I’m not planning on it.”
You blushed. “Okay, but... I’m not little.”
“You are. Y’know why? Because big girls don’t go begging for it. They take what they want, they don’t need a man to take charge. It’s little girls who don’t wanna do a damn thing, who just wanna lie there and take it however it's given to them.”
You made a sound in your throat at his words, thoroughly enjoying both the figurative and the literal dressing-down he was giving you tonight.
You bit your lip as you finally pushed, Joel whispering a “Jesus fuck,” at the sight of your winking entrance and the spend leaking out of it. You moaned at the ticklish feeling, subtly shaking your hips side to side to encourage Joel to go further. And Joel was never one to deny you, so he swiped up a bead of his cum as his other hand took hold of your hair and pulled. With your head craned backward, he extended his arm out just enough for his finger to reach your mouth. You knew what came next.
“Suck.”
Without hesitancy, you complied, moaning as you made sure there were no traces of his cum left.
Joel chuckled. “You're gonna go home and kiss your daddy with that mouth, aren't you?"
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masterlist
A/N: HI HELLO if ur reading this, TYSM FOR THE LOVE ON MY RECENT FIC LOOK AT ME A LITTLE MORE!!! i didn't think u guys would enjoy it as much as u did and it srsly made me so happy to see. while i work on part 2, i will be putting out little drabbles like this one. also, like the divider says, pls pls pls remember to reblog, especially if you're a consistent reader of my work and enjoy what i put out!! it considerably helps the tumblr algorithm!
taglist (strikethrough means i can't tag you):
@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare
@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13
@redplaidedandcladed @simping-soldat @martyluvsu @mingiast @teddybonkers1960 @brittmb15 @ellswilliams
[remaining tags will be in a reblog]
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fallenneziah · 5 months
Text
Sorry guys but I'm on a trans! Man masc reader high rn.
Thinking about big scary giant Ghost who would never back down from a challenge but would get on his knees in a heartbeat for you.
Sloppy oral, submissive Dom Ghostie? PiV, Treats you like a king 😌
You see that large man barking orders in the yard but the moment he gets break and you call him over he's on the move. His ears are tuned to your every whim and way.
When you get into the barracks and close the door, telling him to get down on his knees for you and when you turn around he's down. Knees pressed into the cool ground, looking up at you expectantly as you come over.
Running your fingers over his mask and slowly tug it up, calling him a good boy when you see his face.
"Being such a scary man out there..." You click your tongue, watching his shoulders drop, his large hand cupping the back of your thigh as he kisses up your leg.
You tell him to take off your belt and with gentle hands he's pulling open the ends a little too eagerly, pulling down to see the black underwear he loves.
He strains his neck but you make him wait, letting him worship you more. And he will. Whatever you want, he's going to be there.
Kissing up your thigh, feeling the warmth of your skin, licking a long strip of saliva across the first thigh. Turning to your second to do the same thing. Praising your body, kissing up your body.
You make him stop, pulling down your underwear slowly. Hearing his breath hitch you call him a good boy again, letting him see your dripping, pretty little cunt.
His pants are starting to tighten and feel twice as small as you rile him up. But he's nothing if not a good boy.
And when you finally give him the go ahead he moves, hooking his arms around your thighs, pressing you back into the wall and his mouth between your legs.
Groaning as his lips sink to your warm skin, licking his tongue between to feel your juices. Tasting you, tasting the little nub of your clit, flicking it in his mouth and sucking on it.
You moan, back arching and gasping for breath already as he devours you. Putting his pleasure second in favor making you soaked.
Getting your back to arch, fingers digging into the little curve of your ass, looking up at you. In the dim light he sees your hand over your face, the other threading through his hair.
He hums deeply, sucking some more. Tongue fluttering over your labia, sucking them into his mouth and tonguing your entrance.
"Ghost- fuck, deeper." You purr, mouth falling open as he goes back to sweetly sucking you, tongue swirling around the little nub.
He loves you so much. Fucking hell he absolutely loves you. Finally you manage to pull him off, looking down at him as he pants. "Tastes so good... Love..." His chin is absolutely dripping but he's unashamed, looking at you like he was meant to worship you.
"Good boy..." You slump a little bit. "If you don't finish what you started before you have to leave this room again... I'll be really, really unhappy." Your knees wobble, and that gives Ghost all the permission he needs.
Picking you up, he brings you to the bed. "I won't disappoint love." He whispers over you, sitting you comfortably on your side with a pillow under you. One leg on the bed, the other over his shoulder.
He coats his fingers in saliva and begins to work at your entrance. One large finger sliding in, pressing in deep, making your mouth fall open.
He bites his lip, not removing one scrap of his own clothing as he zeroes in on you. All on you. A second finger pressing to your entrance, trying to slide in and pump through the slick with the first one.
"Ghost- Ghost fuck!"
"Yeah baby, sound so good with my name in your mouth... Wanna make you feel good." He huffs, pressing his fingers in deeper, moving faster while kissing your calve.
"Fuck... Takin' my fingers so well..." He watches you squirm but his hand remains firm, gently kissing you while his fingers plunged deep in and out of your cunt.
Eventually pulling out, dripping with slick, he brought them to his lips. Smelling your scent, shakily exhaling before licking it off. "Fuck baby... Gonna drive me crazy." He groans.
He palms his cock, looking down at your expression, breathing heavy. "Let me fuck you... Come on, let me make you feel good." He groans, his hand tempted to undo his belt.
"Come on... Fuck me, fuck me Simon." You pant.
Ghost groans, undoing his belt hurriedly and pulling down his pants, releasing his hard, dripping cock. He bites his lip, exhaling sharply as he strokes the length, watching pre-cum dribble down the underbelly.
It felt heavy in his hand, stroking the skin back over the puffy tip. He lifted the bottom of his shirt up over his stomach, looking down as he lined his cock up with your cunt.
"Fuck..." He whispers, eyes lidded as he presses his cockhead to your entrance, smearing pre-cum all over your sloppy entrance.
He's already feeling drunk on you. You're too good for him. You're too much, you're too perfect.
Sliding his thick, bulging cock into your tight cunt, thumb pressing to your sensitive nub as he did. His eyes rolling, pulling back and fucking his hips into you.
"Fuck- fuck love-" He flips your leg over, moving you onto your back so he can see your face. Hands running up over your abdomen, squeezing your sides, pushing you down on his cock.
"You feel so good..." His hips make a steady rhythm inside you. Sliding in and out, watching you take him. His thick length disappearing inside your gummy walls.
Pulling out and pushing back in. He leans over you, hands running up from your hips to your chest. Running over the soft, flat tissue around back to your shoulder blades.
"You're so amazing, so perfect." He kisses between your collar bones. "You're everything for me." He grips you a little tighter, speeding up inside you.
Hearing your moans, hearing your pleas and praises ring in his ears.
"Taking me so well, making it feel so good love. You feel good sweetheart?" He licks your ear, pulling back to look at you.
"Yeah, you look so good like this for me... Letting me please you. Letting me show you how it's really supposed to feel."
He speeds up again, canting his hips into you, pulling you up by your midsection so your back arches and hips pivot down into him, letting him fuck up into you.
"Oh fuck oh Fuck- yes, fuck yes!"
"Simon! Oh fuck!" You cry, eyelids fluttering, gasping and moaning.
Simon reaches a hand down and swirls your swollen clit, flicking it between his fingers and rubbing it. "Cum... I'll make you cum... I promise, you'll come on my cock." He purrs, grinning.
Your head falls back, toes curling as your orgasm feels too close and too far away. The way he plays with you makes you feel like you're on fire. You're feeling good, you're enjoying yourself.
Feeling him praising you and wanting you to cum first, wanting you to feel so good.
Your eyelids flutter as he sits you up again, head lolling and looking down at him. How much time had past? How long were you at it.
Feeling his cock drive up into you, his hands digging into your hips, fucking you up and down on his cock, brown eyes focused on your face.
"Look at me love... Look at me, feel good?"
You moan, nodding as much as you could as he bounces you vigorously on his cock.
"Good, good..." He exhales sharply, feeling your legs quiver and shake with anxiety. An excited thrill as your orgasm builds in your belly. His cock splitting you open and making you feel numb against the pleasure.
"I'm gonna- oh fuck!" You cry, eyes rolling back. Ghost grunts, slamming you down on his cock repeatedly, feeling him hit you right there. You can barely hold on to your thoughts until your orgasm is crashing over you.
He holds you as you cry out, squirming in bliss on his cock. Ghost keeps you there, panting heavily as you eventually pull off his cock, having drenched it in cum.
Your cunt swollen and your breathing heavy.
Ghosts cock still stood, pulsating. He bucks up into the air. "Baby..." He leans back, watching you slide down to the floor.
His eyelids fluttered when you came closer.
"I wanna cum..."
You smile softly, stroking his shaft, licking the salty tip. "You get to cum." You pant, stroking his length.
His eyelids flutter, moaning as you stroke his cock. Fist dragging down and back up. Watching with anticipation as his cock twitched. The puffy head leaking until he caved.
Groaning as he bucks his hips up, cum shooting from his cock, thick ropes landing across his abdomen and the blanket.
He pants, looking at his swollen cock, how you smile between his knees, letting go of his cock.
You go to clean yourself off, still swimming in bliss, Ghost grabs some napkins to clean you up, kissing your cheek.
"Let me..." He whispers, pulling you close.
Only you could get big scary Ghost on his knees. It wasn't all the time, but you could get him to beg for a chance to cum. On the days he isn't doing the same right back to you, that is...
(it's very late but this is in my head... It's much longer than I expected it to be, I apologize peeps)
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sourtoruu · 5 months
Text
”Baby? can u call me back..it’s so lonely in my mansion..”
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Toji X f!reader ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
warnings! blowjob m!receiving, edging, pet names (princess, baby, & good girl) p in v, not proofread, pure filth
toji didn’t wanna leave you alone at the house this weekend, but he had other important issues to deal with. not that you were ever an issue or less important, but as he says it’s “for your sake”. you trust him so you know nothing bad is ever gonna happen to you. he won’t allow that.
it was only 9pm..& you were soooo needy! toji barely texted you all day.. the occasional “hey baby” followed by an update as to his location & hearting your message was beginning to make your patience run thin. without a second thought you picked up your phone with its cute little cake charms as you set your led lights to a hot pink then began to record yourself fondling your tits & teasing your clit with soft taps. shallow breaths leave your mouth as you pant & moan his name in a sweet tone.
  ‘ping!’
|| miss u </3
seen 9:30pm
seeing this message made toji’s dick tighten in his pants. he couldn’t just leave the meeting, even if it was an embarrassing matter like this, he would just have to wait til he got done to deal with it.
lying down on your soft pink silk sheets as you ponder on if he actually watched the videos & paid any mind to them you hear rustling. you don’t bother to see what it is out of pure laziness & because whatever it was would’ve probably killed you by now if it was actually dangerous. snapping you out of your thoughts, a sudden slam of a door is enough to make you sit up. only to quickly realize it’s your buff boyfriend you haven’t been able to reach all day walking into your bed room. “toji..you scared me, i thought someone was coming to murder me or somethin” playfully pouting before getting up to kiss him. what was supposed to be a sweet, cute, welcoming peck became a sloppy, wet, dripping mess. “toji- wait.. you’re-“ barely managing to speak between each kiss he eagerly kept reconnecting between you two.“think it’s funny to tease me like that?” harshly groping your tits & giving each one a slap before turning you around to face the bed. whining as he drags his tip across your aching pussy agonizingly, you arch your back & press against him. unable to resist the way his dick catches onto your hole every time he slides up & down, he caves & slides in. “fuuuuuck..oh my go-mmph!” within an instant he starts slamming himself deep inside your velvet walls at a fast pace. “takin’ it so well baby..almost made me forget about what you..hah.. did.” grabbing a handful of the plump flesh on your ass before smacking it & grabbing it with a firm grip again. the sound of skin slapping aligned with your pathetic moans fill the room. the way you clench down on him relubricates his dick, creating a sloppy white ring around the bottom. “toji !! i canttt.. im gonna cum..” after another deep thrust he slowly takes his cock out just before you can finish, which causes a whimper from you in response to that.
“think you can jus’ cum that easily after today?” grabbing your hips to sit you up & turn your glossy body around he slowly begins to stroke his cock closer to your lips. immediately knowing what he’s indicating for, you prop yourself up on your knees & glance up at him. “good girl..” slapping & smearing the tip across your pouty lips teasing himself before pushing his length all the way into your mouth suddenly. “gonna use this throat til you can’t speak” leaving no time for you to react as he harshly slammed into your face. muffled sounds & squelching bouncing off the walls as you choke down onto his cock. he grabs a fistful of your hair pushing your mouth down further with a grunt.
“fuck.. just like that princess.” whining as you play with your puffy clit in a repeated rhythm.“want me to fill you up?” nodding your head eagerly as you’ve already been on edge since he pulled out the first time, rubbing your sensitive heat didn’t help. “please..” almost instantly he lifts you up into his beefy arms & aligns himself with your entrance. thrusting deeply as his pace begins to pick up speed, he holds your ass tightly as he empties his cum into you. grunting as he jolts his hips upwards into a few more times making sure a drop doesn’t go to waste. feeling yourself reach a high just as he does for himself you grasp his biceps for some sort of support. “nnngh..” panting & breathing softly as you feel him deep inside you before pulling out & planting a sweet kiss onto your lips.
“let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”
this was my first fic & honestly took way to long T^T i hope it wasn’t too rushed though !
@sourtoruu
please do not repost my work as your own ! thx
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cultofdixon · 6 months
Text
Falling for you…wasn’t meant to hurt
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • The two of you grew close because the universe thought you were meant to be. But Daryl agreeing to let you help him find Carol’s daughter, he didn’t expect anything bad to happen • ANGST/SFW • TW: Impalement / Injuries / Anxiety / Restlessness
Requested by: Anon
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“If you’re gonna go search for the kid, don’t go alone.”
“Fine” Daryl made his way toward the camp outside the farm house as Rick gave him a confused look.
“Who are yea takin’?”
“Y/N” He states without a second thought in mind as Rick quickly grabs his shoulder stopping him.
“You sure that’s your best option?”
“I trust her more than you, Rick. She’s more than the best choice” Daryl retracts from the man continuing his way over to the tent city they have going on as Y/N’s was on the side closest to Daryl’s.
________
“Who’s that?” Merle elbows his brother to look at the woman seated on top of the RV.
Daryl looked over trying to get a good look at her face but when he couldn’t. He gave up and told Merle not to go there knowing damn well his brother was going to holler at her.
Then later in the night, Daryl went over to the camp fire they always have going when dinner was made from whatever he and Merle caught. He went to get him and his brother some dinner only for the woman from the roof of the RV to hand him two prepared plates before he could ask somebody to.
“It’s Y/N by the way”
“What?”
“My name. I’m the “who’s that” from the other day” Y/N gave him a small short lived smile before looking down at the book laid in her lap.
Daryl stood there a bit awkward while holding the plates as he cleared his throat to get her beautiful E/C eyes to look up at him.
“Daryl”
Her smile shot back instantly making his heart beat quicken.
“Don’t be a stranger, Daryl”
________
“Do you trust Rick?” Y/N asks Daryl as he was getting one of the Greene’s horses strapped with a saddle.
“Don’t know yet, more than Shane if it came to that though”
“Ugh. In those terms I agree…I just. Don’t understand how he’s so blind to their nonsense” Y/N frowns looking over to the camp while Daryl did his thing but his attention seemed to always fixate on her when she didn’t seem alright.
“Ready. Least I think I got this shit on right”
“You ride a horse before?”
“Uh. No, shouldn’t be too hard”
“If we had the resources like the old world, I’d tell yea to wear boots. So your feet wouldn’t slip from the stirup” Y/N stared watching Daryl get on with ease extending his hand for her as he kept his cool when her smile practically shot him. “Don’t do anything too crazy, cowboy”
“Wouldn’t dream of it” Daryl chuckles lightly as his mind was running miles at everything she did, even if it was the smallest thing of wrapping her arms around his waist. “Alright, let’s get”
God I really hate horses Y/N thought as she held onto Daryl for dear life wishing they went on foot.
I can’t focus On the other hand, Daryl’s mind raced having her this close.
But a good thing can’t last forever in the end of the world.
________
Daryl cared, but he also didn’t. In the moment he didn’t care about anybody else except her when he returned from Atlanta to find out a herd was crashing through.
Not that she needed any help given every walker that came toward her, met the short end of the stick.
Once the horror show came to an end and many were mourning, Y/N dropped her axe before falling to her knees and trying to wrap her head over all the happened. Her mind was flooded until she felt hands carefully take a hold of her face. Her eyes instantly locked onto his piercing blues.
“Are yea bit?” Daryl frowns waiting for her to answer as she shook her head, bringing a whole wave of relief. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get yea cleaned up”
________
They can handle anything
Daryl jolts awake in a bit of a haze feeling the pain in his side realizing he was impaled by his own arrow. But given the racing situation at hand, it didn’t remain in his side as he quickly pulled it out while scrambling to get his crossbow in order to shoot the walker getting dangerously to Y/N’s unconscious form.
The second he landed the shot, Daryl dropped his crossbow rushing the best he could over to Y/N and rolling her onto her back noticing the branch embedded in her side.
“Fuck” Daryl frowns removing his shirt wincing when he agitated his injury and wrapping it around her middle to secure the branch. “Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP” he didn’t meant to shout so loud at the last part but it got her to jolt awake wincing in pain immediately. “Sorry. I’m sorry”
“W-…What a way….t-to wake a dying p-p…person” Y/N scoffs wincing more feeling the branch move when she took a breath.
“Y-Yea ain’t dyin’”
“H-Hurts…though” Y/N finally got a deep breath in, exhaling slowly feeling his fingers press against the pulse point on her neck. “Mm still here…”
“Yea better be by the time we get back”
Y/N couldn’t even wrap her head around that thought. Of making it back alive. She thought she was going to die there or on the way back, but given how hard Daryl was trying and the anxiety laced in his voice. Even with how much he’s talking…she’s not going to feed into the seeds of doubt and let him try, hell…she’s still trying.
“Can’t move yea too much…gonna have to go the long way”
“H…How’d we even…?”
“Stupid goddamn h-horse” Daryl winced to his pain when he tried to get up so he could help her up. Y/N carefully pressed her hand to his injured side getting another wince out of him and when she removed her hand she saw the blood.
“You can’t die for me” The first clear thing she’s said since the fall and Daryl didn’t know what to say. The anger that always laid dormant in him at times, started to peak out when his mind raced to the conclusion that he’s not going to listen to her if she starts talking about leaving her behind.
“F-Find something”
“What?”
“F-…Find ah…” Y/N laid back again in the dirt looking around locking onto the walker he had killed to keep her from getting bitten. “S-Stop the bleeding. T…Ta…Take his s-shirt”
He would listen to her direction but find himself yelling at every moment she closed her eyes. They were both weak, but he’s the only one capable of getting them out of there.
Daryl took the shirt and secured it to stop the bleeding on his side. Then he decided to take the dead’s pants thinking if he could climb up from where they fell while Y/N was wrapped to his back, then they could follow the same tracks that got them there instead of trying a whole new route. But that meant having to cut the branch shorter and warning her was the easy part.
Feeling her nails dig into his arm as he used his knife to shorten the branch on either side…listening to her scream in agony and the blood continued to seep through his shirt that was supposedly secured around her. He was in hell.
Y/N tiredly watches the creek disappear as Daryl carries her on his back taking his sweet ass time climbing.
“Gonna get Hershel, to check on yea.”
“You…”
“Me? Me what? Me too? Yeah no shit. None of’em out there are gonna let me walk around bleedin’”
“…s-someone needs to care”
Daryl was reaching the last stretch in climbing when she said that. He was confused on what she meant but when he finally got onto the main path pulling the rest of her up and beside him. Y/N had gone unconscious again. She wasn’t finished and he wasn’t happy seeing her eyes closed.
“Come on” Daryl shakes her at first, trying to keep the yelling at a minimum because the only thing it’s going to do is draw more sickos toward them. But he wasn’t getting anything immediately. “Y/N?” His fear started to get him as he gently brushes the hair out of the way of her face shaking her head carefully. “Please. Please. I can’t lose you. I can’t.” His voice cracked, his tears were threatening to spill over.
It took a second but she tiredly opened her eyes reaching forward and grabbing a fist full of his tank top.
“Tired…” She sighs feeling his hands rest on her face. “Sorry”
“You’re not allowed to die, alright? I’ll kill yea if you do”
Even in a weak state she couldn’t help but laugh to such.
Soon they were on their feet, Y/N’s arm draped over Daryl’s shoulders as he kept her up the best he could while they made their way back.
“Walkers!” Andrea yells catching everyone who was outside’s attention.
As Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog grabbed their guns and made their way to the walkers given there was only two. But Andrea decided to take the hunting rifle and get ready to take at least one of them out.
“Andrea don’t”
“Shut up Dale”
Y/N groaned touching her side to see the fresh blood coming out as she gave Daryl a worried look while he kept a stern one. He wasn’t stopping. Then her anxiety got the best of her right when the four approached them aiming their gun.
“That’s the second time you aimed that thing at me” Daryl huffed.
“Oh my god Y/N” Glenn frowns noticing her injury then they all were startled by both Y/N shoving Daryl off and her falling back when the shot rang through. “Holy FUCK!”
The group that rushed over surrounded Y/N as Daryl weakly looks up from his fallen position noticing her unmoving form. He couldn’t quite pick out what they were saying as he tried to get himself off the ground. Eventually T-Dog approached him with an extended hand.
“C’mon man. We gotta get you checked out”
“Is she—-“
“She’s still breathing” T-Dog reassures him as he got Dixon back on his feet bringing his arm around his shoulders. “The hell happen?”
“Goddamn horse” he scoffs feeling his anger bubble inside himself when watching Shane carry Y/N sprinting toward the house.
Daryl found himself at the dining room table letting Maggie do his stitches while the room that once had Carl, now had Y/N being worked on by Hershel with help from Patricia. He anxiously waited and winced every now and then when Maggie pulled a bit too tight on her stitches. She’d apologized immediately.
“Yer dad is good right?”
“Yes. For someone who originally only worked on animals” Maggie states applying the bandage as Daryl immediately got up leaving the house and approaching the camp.
“Who the fuck fired?”
Everyone grew tense with the tone he took as it was obvious given her avoidance to eye contact when he brought it up.
“Who. Shot. Their. Gun.”
“Andrea” Glenn blurted as Dale smacked him in the arm. The guy was nervous. He wasn’t about to lie for her.
“I’m sorry Daryl! You two looked awful and from afar—like walkers. I had to protect—-“
“FOUR OF YALL CAME TOWARD US. WE DIDNT NEED SOME TRIGGER HAPPY BITCH TAKE CARE OF IT” Daryl snaps as Rick stepped between them pushing him back gently keeping mind of his own injuries.
“Look. You’re upset. We all are. We’re worried about—-“
“Nah. She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you had just trusted me to take care of business by myself. I shouldn’t have taken the one person I care about in this goddamn apocalypse” Daryl clenched his jaw moving his gaze to the floor. “I’m leavin’ if I lose her” he whispered.
“Daryl”
The two quickly turned to Maggie as she kept a relaxed expression but the tension in her shoulders struck Daryl’s anxiety.
“We need you”
Daryl quickly ran toward the house and barging into the room noticing the branch was still in Y/N’s side.
“Why the fuck haven’t—-“
“I stabilized it but she woke up, screamed at us wondering where you were—-“
He didn’t say anything all he did was instantly to go to her side noticing the color that left her face from the blood loss, and the bullet graze on the side of her face.
“D-Daryl. It h-hurts” She whined with tears streaming down her face as Daryl held her hand trying not to fall apart.
“He’s gotta take it out and access yea, sunshine”
“P-Please. Don’t leave”
“Wouldn’t dream of it” Daryl states giving Hershel a look for him to get started as he watches the doc move the bandaging showing the branch that still needed to be pulled out. His heart was pounding in his chest holding Y/N’s hand knowing in a split second he’s going to have to hold her shoulders.
Which happened to be now. Hershel started to pull the branch out and Y/N tried to fight Hershel wanting him to stop but he kept repeating “almost there”. Daryl brought his hands to her shoulders pinning her down as Patricia held her legs down to keep the movement at a minimum. She clawed at Daryl’s arms crying in pain as he knew he would be hearing her screams whenever something went wrong in the future.
Once the branch was removed, the blood poured in new places that weren’t where the clamps were. Leading Hershel to apply pressure immediately while Patricia scrambled to get what they needed. Daryl relaxed but tensed instantly when Y/N’s breathing slowed…slower than normal.
“Goddamn it” Daryl frowns holding Y/N’s face shaking her slightly. “Come on come on come on!” He shouted startling everyone as Hershel took notice and quickly checked her pulse while Patricia kept the pressure.
“Son, you know CPR?!”
“What?! Nah. No she don’t need it. She’s just—-“
“You need to do it or she’ll die”
Then the sound went out in his head. Daryl instantly started to do CPR and tried his best not to instantly break her ribcage with the pressure he was building up to. His shoulder was grabbed when Hershel finished his work and checked her pulse. He did good. Daryl did good.
“She’s gonna be unconscious for a while” Hershel states, about a few hours later as it was now the evening. Daryl hasn’t left her side and he mainly said that in hopes he’d get up to walk around a bit. But he didn’t want to face anybody. “She lost a lot of blood and it’ll take a while—-“
“Use mine”
“Pardon?”
“I’m fucking universal. Take some of mine to help her”
________
“He seriously did that?” Y/N questions Daryl as the two were sitting alone in the room they were sharing at the CDC.
“Got a lot of money out of it”
“But that’s not safe. Taking three pints? How did you not go into shock?”
“Who said I didn’t?”
“Daryl, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever gave me your blood”
“Huh?” Daryl was confused on what she meant and Y/N was getting at, if the situation asked for it. She wouldn’t want him to bleed himself just for her to live. “You ain’t gonna lose a fuckton of blood. Won’t let it happen”
________
Three pints. Fucking moron.
But Hershel only took one a day and gave it to Y/N, letting Daryl take the couch in the living room to recuperate after each transfusion. He had to be a human blood bag, Hershel couldn’t calculate a pint so he had a cut off period. Meaning 3 pints could’ve been less than what was taken.
Daryl didn’t have to give anymore and found himself back in the chair beside the bed staring blankly at the window seeing the group take advantage of the luxury of the Greene farm. Part of him knew it wasn’t going to last. Something in him was leaning toward that, but he wasn’t going to lose her if something bad were to happen.
He flinched to feeling something as he brought himself to cross his arms turning toward her thinking it was just a breeze. But when he noticed her open eyes and extended hand, it was her.
“Holy shit. Holy SH—“ Daryl cut himself off when Y/N brought her finger to her lips to shush him as he leaped out of the chair dropping to his knees directly beside the bed dropping his head onto the bed. She instantly wrapped her arm around his shoulders as her other hand carefully reached over to run her fingers through his hair. “Thank god. Thank fucking god”
“Dar…your arm is bruised”
“Don’t…don’t worry about it, sunshine. I had to do what I had to do”
A sigh escaped her lips making him turn his face toward her as she gently caresses his face watching him relax to her touch.
“I’m always going to worry about you”
“Y/N…you almost died” His voice cracked as her expression saddened gripping the back of his shirt tugging at him. Daryl got the idea as he pulled himself up letting Y/N wrap her arms around him as they both kept in mind their injuries.
“I’m not going anywhere…has to take a lot to take me away from you”
“I love you…I loved yea since I first met you…”
Y/N held onto him with the strength she had feeling Daryl hide his face in the crook of her neck.
“Falling for you, wasn’t meant to be literal” She giggles feeling him pull away so he could get a good look at that smile of hers that he missed so much. “I love you Daryl”
The tears came back when he brought his lips to hers feeling her gently wipe away his tears not breaking the kiss they shared. She returned her arms around his shoulders parting from him to bring him close once again.
“I ain’t letting go, sunshine”
“Good…”
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luvjunie · 6 months
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hiiiii!!!!
idk if ur taking requests or not, but can you scenarios about miles 1610 and 42 (or just one of them) if they were your older brother reacting to you having a boyfriend/girlfriend taking you out or something (they radiate overprotective brother energy idk why😫🙏)
LOVEEE your work!!😊
AW THANK YOUUU SM 🫶🏽 miles42 a/n: this is exaggerated a little for comedic reasons lolll. and ik i’ve done something similar to this alr but i’ll honestly never get tired of writing siblings bickering so idc skskdkd
“Bye Miles I’ll be back by 9 don’t bother waiting up for dinner!” You rambled out in one quick breath as you whisked passed your brother’s open door.
“Aht aht, come back,”
Your lips smacked against your teeth when you stopped in your tracks. He had his damn Beats on and was literally bobbing his head to whatever he was listening to, how did he even hear you?
With the inside of your cheek between your teeth and a huff pushing from your nostrils, you spun on your heels and begrudgingly stomped a few paces back to see him already facing the doorway. You stared at him with an oblivious look that had an attitude written all over it, arms smacking against your sides and head moving like a chicken’s when you asked,
“What?”
He pushed one of the ears to his headphones back and gave you a curious look. “Where are you going?”
“Out, clearly.” you blinked.
“Yeah, no shit, but where?”
You looked to the side, then back at him. “Does it matter?”
“Uh, yeah,” Miles huffed a humorless chuckle. “Mom ain’t here, so that means I’m responsible for you. And even when she is here I’m still responsible for you. Shit, soon as you were born I was responsi—“
“A boy,” you quickly clarified with a hand out, hoping to avoid one of his soap-box rants. “I’m going out with a boy. Cool?”
“Cool, cool.” His lips puckered when he nodded to himself, screwdriver tapping against the little mechanical trinket he’d previously been working on.
Here we fucking go.
“What’s his name? He got siblings and if so, how many? Where he work at? Does he even have a job? Cause if he don’t he a bum. What car he drive or are y’all takin’ the train?”
You stared at him, bewilderment painted on your expression in the form of a scowl.
“Who are you, the CIA?”
“Doesn’t answer my questions.” He disregarded your own with a derisive shrug.
“Jalen. His name is Jalen. What you gon’ ask for next? His mother’s maiden name?” you joked. “Or what, his social security number?”
Miles glanced to the side, pretending as if he were actually considering it.
“Honestly, that would make things a whole lot easier.”
“Dude,” You rubbed your forehead, hand thrown to the air in exasperation. “How would I know half of those things?”
“Wha—You’on see where we live at?” Voice upped an octave in astonishment, Miles gestured towards the window behind him with his thumb. “There’s some crazy mfs out there, trust me I know—“
Your head dropped back when you groaned. “Oh brother—“
“What you should be asking is why don’t you know those things.”
“Look I’m not about to do this with you. You act like I don’t know that you weren’t at Uncle Aaron’s last night. But that’s what you told Mom, ain’t it?” You folded your arms and tilted your head. You looked far too complacent for him to call your bluff.
“Yeah,” You nodded at his silence with a smug smirk. “You think I don’t know about you and Aliyah by now? Especially when last week you were all ‘Mami, she’s my partner for a project, can she come over?’” you mimicked him in an insultingly goofy voice that wasn’t anywhere near close to his.
“Since when do you do ‘partnered projects’?” Your eyes narrowed.
His mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water told you everything you needed to know but you played on; all in a day’s work of sibling banter.
“Huh? What was that?” you cupped a hand to your ear, lashes fluttering when you looked to the side.
You: 1
Miles: 0
He cleared his throat, looking away once his face started to get hot.
“Aight, whatever bro. But share your location with me. Seriously, I’m not playing.”
“Yeah yeah,” You rolled your eyes, opening up your phone and clicking his contact.
“And if ole’ boy try anything, tell him I keep a pole.”
It was a joke. Kinda, but not really at the same time. That wasn’t the exact weapon he used, but it was close enough.
You scoffed. “Stop cappin’, you’ve never even shot a gun before.”
Miles didn’t say anything, but the look on his face suddenly turned dead serious. And as the both of you stared at each other in an eerie silence, you made a wise decision to not take the subject any further.
“Whatever,” You shook your head, motioning to your outfit. “Do I at least look nice, though? Be honest.”
Miles looked you up and down, his top lip arching when he did a so-so motion with his head. He knew you were genuinely asking, but what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t mess with you a little bit?
“Ehh, yeah.“ he shrugged, looking unimpressed on purpose. “Fit coulda been harder though. Shoulda asked me for help, I woulda got you right.”
“Oh good-fucking-bye.”
“Dude, I’m kidding!” he called out with a laugh as you stormed off.
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familyvideostevie · 8 months
Text
takin' a breath
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for @strangerfreaks <3 simply put, you love being in love with sirius black. you just never realized other people noticed all that much. | fluff, established relationship, the general idea that love is lovely, 1.8k
No matter how many times you check your watch, the hands don't tick backwards. You're going to be late.
Nothing to be done about it, you suppose. Sirius is always late, anyway, though he'd texted you he was on the train so he might arrive at the bar before you. Your own train slows and the speaker reads out your station in a clipped tone. You step on to the platform and the strangest thing happens -- the air changes, somehow. Like someone is looking at you. In the moment before you turn around you hear your name in a voice you know very well and when you do turn, there he is.
"Were we on the same train?" Sirius asks as people stream past you towards the exit. "I don't think this has ever happened to me before."
"Different cars," you say.
"Fancy that." He holds out his arm once he reaches you and you hook yours through it and head towards the escalators. "You look lovely," he says. "Are we late?"
"Well, you're always late," you remind him. He rolls his eyes. "I meant to be there ten minutes ago." Sirius smooths down the collar of your coat and you allow yourself to admire him.
You never get tired of his face -- he's handsome in an edgy way, a way that makes you look away at first and then draws you back in. You're very familiar with how he looks by now. The slope of his nose, the intense line of his eyebrows and the length of his lashes. His eyes are dark, deep, mysterious. The rings in his nose and his ears stand out, gold against his otherwise dark features, and his hair begs for you to run your fingers through it.
He tolerates your staring. You know he likes it but you're kind enough not to call him out. "Remus texted me that they're all going to be at least a half hour. Bus is stuck in traffic."
You step off the escalator and emerge onto the street, the chill of the fall evening wrapping around you both. You press a bit closer to him. "Guess it's just us for now."
He hums. "How was your day?"
"Nothing of note. You?"
Sirius turns into you a little bit to speak as a truck passes. He smells like tobacco and the spicy cologne you bought him for his birthday. "By lunch I was ready to get out of there."
"You always are."
He's always on the go, your boyfriend, always looking for the next thing. Everyone who knew him before you met tells you the same thing -- he's wild, spontaneous, full of energy, but with you, he seems to become a centered version of himself. Not like you've changed him, not quite, but like he feels it's okay to slow down because you're around. He takes a breath, lets the somewhat permanent scowl settle into something calmer. You feel it too, like being near him is the most natural thing in the world. Puzzle pieces that fit, magnets that snap together, every cliche in the book fits.
The night is quiet, for the most part, so when you finally get to the bar and go inside the noise is a bit jarring. There's music and chatter, the clink of glasses and chairs scraping on the floor as they're pulled to new tables. You head for the bar and unwind your arm from Sirius's. He makes grabby hands so you undo your coat and turn around, shaking it off and into his arms.
"Do you want me to do drinks or find a table?" he asks, breath hot on your cheek as he leans in to ask.
"I'll do drinks," you say. "You got them last time. Do you want the usual?" He nods, squeezes your elbow and heads off to find a table with a wink.
You wait patiently and wonder what you're going to order. Sirius always gets a pint of whatever dark beer they have on tap and you'll take a sip even though you never like it that much. Maybe it's a wine night? Bit weird to get a glass of wine in a bar like this and surely James will tease you for it when he gets here, but it's a bit cold out and it sounds warming --
"Excuse me?" You look around to see if someone's just addressed you and find a girl about your age at your side. Her eyes are bright and her face flushed and she's holding a pint. Clearly she's a bit further along in her night than you are.
"You alright?" you ask her. She nods frantically.
"Was that your boyfriend?" she asks, the words tumbling out of her like she has to ask you or she'll combust.
"Uh, yes," you say. Bit weird, but alright.
"He's so handsome," she says. Her tone is the one that girls use in the bathroom at the club when they compliment each other, like she's so happy for you and wants to share in your good fortune.
You smile. "He is," you agree.
"And the way he looks at you!" She sighs like she's reading from a romance novel. What is she on about? He was beside you for mere minutes.
"He's got a bit of a stare."
The girl shakes her head, a few pieces of her bangs falling in her face. "No, I mean yes, but you guys were just standing here and I looked over and it was like he was..." She waves her hand in the air, her beer sloshing dangerously close to the edges of her glass. "He was orbiting around you, or something. The air was crackling, I swear."
You really should ask what she's having so you can get a glass too, whatever will make you feel her enthusiasm.
She puts her hand on your arm. "It's just so nice," she says. "To see love like that."
Her words take you by surprise. No one has ever articulated your relationship like that, so matter of fact. "Thank you," you tell her genuinely.
She beams at you and then seems to catch sight of her friends, giving your arm a squeeze before darting off into the crowd.
"Alright then," you mutter. "Wow." The bartender finally takes your order and you mull over this kind girl's words as you wait. You've always thought that you and Sirius were well suited. Both of you are quite private, guarded in front of people you don't know but endlessly loyal to those you do. He has always made you feel like a priority even when you've fought. Very early on you realized that he was an all-in kind of guy -- he laid his feelings out and promised you that if you felt the same he'd give you everything he could. And he has, even though you don't need much. His hand on your back, his voice in your ear when you wake, his smile across the room. Just being next to him has always been enough. You've just never known how to articulate it, how this kind of love is everything you've wanted for yourself.
You manage not to spill your drinks as you try to find Sirius. He's gotten a table in the corner that will easily fit your friends once they arrive, but for now you slide into the seat next to him.
He beams at you, a toothy grin that makes him look younger, and puts his hand on your knee under the table. "Thank you, darling," he says.
You lean into his side. "Good table." He takes a sip of his beer and nods his agreement. "A girl at the bar said the strangest thing to me," you blurt out. You don't know how you're going to explain this to him but you want to tell him. You always want to tell him everything.
"Oh?" He's got a bit of a foam mustache but he wipes it before you can.
"She said I had a handsome boyfriend."
Sirius scoffs. "You do." You roll your eyes.
"But she also said that --" you use air quotes -- "it was nice to see a love like ours."
His face goes very soft, almost like the way he looks first thing in the morning when you wake to find him watching you. "Very poetic," he murmurs.
"I don't totally know what she means," you admit. "But it was a nice thing to say. I think she might have been a bit drunk."
"Oh, I know what she means," he says. You raise your eyebrows, telling him to go on. Sirius blinks a few times, scratches the back of his neck. You know him well enough to know that he's nervous, which is a bit rare. He leads with confidence, oozes with it, but he's told you many times one of the things that he never gets tired of is how you can crack that exterior.
"It's like when we're in the same room and everything shifts," he says. "Like tonight. I stepped off the train and knew you were near, you know?"
Oh. "I --yeah," you say softly. You do know. It's like you and Sirius orbit each other, like being near him changes the makeup of the air in a room. Your heart beats in time with his and your very atoms settle when he's near. If you were good with words, if you were a little better at expressing yourself, you'd say that you two are made of the same stuff. Your life before him was great, sure, and by no means were you waiting for him for it to start. But now that he's here, next to you, it's like everything has snapped into focus. It just makes sense.
"I can't believe she noticed, though," he says. His tone is more teasing than sincere now, so you let your own musings fade for now. "I mean, I've barely even touched you! I took your coat! We could have been on a first date!"
"You never touch me that much," you remind him. It's not a scold, it's just how it is. You've never needed to touch him that much. Just his gaze feels like his hands are on you, sometimes. You can always tell when he's looking at you from across the room. Remus once said he was convinced you two could communicate telepathically. You find yourself looking at a doorway moments before Sirius walks through it. He digs out a tissue before you've even felt the tickle in your nose. You can sense each other's distress over the breeze like a bloodhound. It's a bit weird, actually. But you don't know how else to be.
"I can fix that." He winks and slings his arm around your shoulders.
"Don't be annoying." He smacks a kiss to your temple but releases you. You stay close to him, pressed together from shoulder knee. Sirius presses his lips to the shell of your ear and you shiver.
"I love our love, too," he says. What a sap.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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frogchiro · 8 months
Note
okay wait why am i now just hearing about butcher/slasher ghost, and why am i foaming at the mouth!!!???! like ripping apart pillows, tearing down walls, doing flips—RAHHH i am officially OBSESSED!!
i read it and thought of texas chainsaw massacre, but it’s the 2006 one so like simon is an absolute menace but he sees a pretty lady who’s new to town and his cold killer heart just can’t help but swoon :((( and she’s so polite, nervous, and timid because it’s so different in this town and simon with his cursed blessed keen sense of smell
OH MY GOD BUT SLASHER GRAVES IN A SMALL TOWN DOWN IN TEXAS!!!?
so sorry if this is a lot!! 😣 i’m just a little obsessed 🤭🤭 either way, have an amazing day!! stay hydrated and make sure to eat 🩷🩷
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HOW THE FUCK DID I NEVER THINK OF SLASHER GRAVES
My dear, I know that you probably expected Butcher!Ghost but I'm highjacking this ask now and writing slasher Graves because oh my god-
The setting I imagine to be in a small southern town in Texas, and I imagine it to be like one of those creepy, small southern gothic towns with the old abandoned churches, houses and old beaten up signs that say "His return is near" or "God is watching you", you get the idea.
And there we have Philip Graves who owns a big ranch passed down for generations in his family, and by big I mean HUGE. Enormous pastures, corn fields, cows, horses, pigs and all that which means he and his name is quite well know in the area which admittedly makes his...hobby a lot easier than you'd think. Graves has friends in high places and he's buddy buddy with the town's sheriff, basically the golden child of the town which means that both the police and the sheriff will turn a blind eye to the "sudden disappearances" of people, be it locals or newcomers to town.
But the thing is that Philip Graves is bored. Bored out of his mind and nothing seems to excite him anymore, not even the desperate hysterical screams of his victims do the thing anymore. Sure he definitely has the money, the looks that refined well with age, he's respected and liked in the community but the truth is-he doesn't give a shit about it.
I imagine that Slasher!Graves is an incredibly arrogant man, and while he may put on a pleasant facade, his accent a thick and purring drawl and his southern charm do the trick he's a whimsical and capricious prick who gets easily bored and when he does...Well let's just say that it doesn't end pretty.
So imagine how surprised he was when he was in town once in his pickup truck, cowboy hat low on his brow as he watched the cars go by when suddenly his eyes were caught by a bus, one of those that travel for very long distances and the only person who got out was you. To say that Philip's interest was piqued would be an understatement; what's a pretty soft little thing like you doing in this bumfuck nowhere in Texas?
A pretty young lady, seemingly around 20, who looked like a lost little lamb, but just what were you doing here? Everything about you screamed that you're obviously not from here and while he could see even from a distance that you tried to act confident, his sharp blue eyes saw right through that act-you were scared shitless and more than lost. Were you here to visit someone? Or maybe...you are running from something? Whatever the case was, you definitely caught his attention in more than one way.
You just looked...so soft, so pretty, lovely he'd even say and I'm sorry but this Graves that we're talking about would definitely be a little misogynistic :(( He's old fashioned, maybe it comes with his age or maybe due to how his pa raised him but the further he observed you the more he he couldn't help but think about how such a pretty young lady like yourself should be married off already to a nice gentleman, getting provided for like you deserve and in return takin' care of your husband too; bringing him beer, cookin' and popping out a kid or two :((
His train of thoughts got interrupted only by a loud booming voice calling out his name cheerfully and when he turned around annoyed to see who was interrupting him, it turned out to be old Michael, an old friend of his pa. He greeted him politely but when he turned around to watch you a little more it turned out that you already wandered off, sneaky girl.
Philip cursed under his breath but on the other hand he decided to just ask the sheriff about you since he knows that the man has access to all the information about any newcomers to town. It looks like his bored streak came to an end <3
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agirlcandream84 · 2 months
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More Boyfriend!Frank Headcanons
Am I mentally ill at this point? All signs point to yes. Anyway, here's more Frank headcanons.
He's always a gentleman and assisting with the stuff that requires muscles BUT he does secretly like to watch you struggle with a jar of pickles or whatever from time to time. Huffing and puffing, those adorable grunts you make, watching how long you'd go without asking for help before finally strutting over to you with a smirk and taking the jar, popping it open with ease and kissing your forehead with "there ya go babydoll"
You love to be barefoot around the house and he is CONVINCED you'll catch your death, putting slippers on your feet or saying "at least put some socks on doll, you're killin' me" and he'd get especially mad when a random glass would break and you'd standing barefoot amongst the shards. Quite literally lifting you by the armpits to place you somewhere safe.
He simultaneously thinks your independence is hot AND would prefer to never let you out of his sight. So when you grab drinks with the girls, he'd lie when he dropped you off and let you think he was headed back home but really he was just waiting in the car for hours outside the bar, ready to get you home safe when the night wrapped up.
There is nothing fragile about his masculinity so when you realize you're out of mascara at 11pm, he's at the drugstore and facetiming you, showing you the wall of mascras and reading the names all confused "Super Telescopic Carbon Black? Shit, is this a mascara or a telescope sweetheart," he'd tease you before spending another 15 mins finding the exact one you wanted and then buying 3 so you have backups.
He is generally a man of few words, EXCEPT for two places: the bedroom (more on that in a minute) and when he knew you'd reached your social limit at a party or event. Just as you were feeling tapped out you'd feel a warm hand land on your back as he'd step into the conversation, taking the lead and making polite conversation so you could just stand quietly for a bit
The bedroom (and let's be real, all the other places you have sex)- this man is a talker. It's just unending streams of praise, half of them pitying in response to your incoherent whimpers. So much "takin' me so well sweetheart" or "such a good girl for me doll" or "I know baby, I'm going slow. S'alright" or "It's ok sweetheart, make all the noise you need."
He looooovveeesss to see you ride him but his chest and torso are so damn broad that straddling him and getting a rhythm feels impossible. He watches you struggle a bit, your tits mesmerizing him, before he grabs your hips, rocking you baacccck and fooorrttth, his hands occasionally wrapping around to cup and squeeze your ass cheeks.
While he certainly enjoys receiving head, he much MUCH prefers giving it. He loves the sense of total control he has over your pleasure, the way your hands tug at his hair, the way your thighs graze his face, the way "frankie" tumbles from your lips as your whole body trembles.
He fucking loves how soft you are. Soft skin, soft hair, soft squishy thighs. He's constantly kneading you, mumbling "so fuckin' soft" in your ear.
K byyyeeeeee
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