tasteracha · 11 months ago
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strawberry cake
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word count: 1.3k
warnings: afab!reader, reader x jisung, consensual somnophilia, smut - MINORS DNI.
synopsis: jisung fucks you in your sleep idk there's no other plot here
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i’m wet and you’re not home to help me 
i’m going to bed 
don’t wake me up when you get back
(i’m wearing the shorts)
11:09 pm
these are the texts jisung was met with when he finally got a chance to look at his phone. it was almost midnight, his muscles hurt beyond compare and his eyelids felt like lead when he tried to blink, but the simple message that you had sent him made his entire body sing in excitement. 
it wasn’t often that you allowed him this - you liked to be awake to watch his features morph in ecstasy when he first sank into you, wanted to witness the way his eyes rolled back into his head when he came. today was a different case though; you genuinely were tired, and you knew that even if you tried to stay awake for him that you would fall asleep halfway through, and wouldn’t that be a kick to jisung’s self esteem?
so you created this system of sorts. a pair of sleep shorts that you bought that was in a color you never usually wore, just so there was no chance of confusion. a signal that jisung was allowed to do whatever he wanted to you, whether or not you were awake - when you first brought it up to him he was apprehensive, but neither one of you could ignore the way his cock jumped in his boxers at the idea.
just like it was now, as he was rushing through packing his bag so he could make it home to you. he makes it home in what must be a record breaking time, nearly sweating in excitement the entire way. if he got any judgemental looks from the way he bumped into people as he sped by, he didn’t notice, too focused on his goal to give them a sparing thought.
your body was a lump under the comforter when he finally approached you, blankets pulled around you like a cocoon so only your face was still visible. he almost felt bad at the thought of having to remove you from the warmth, but his neediness won over it. 
he takes his clothes off hastily, shivering when the cold air hit his feverish skin, but he paid it no mind - there was one thing running through his thoughts right now and it was making his dick harden at an alarming rate. 
he kneels on the side of the bed, peeling back the comforter just to make sure the shorts were still on - they were, of course they were. you wouldn’t tease him like that, but even when you were asleep your consent was important. he wouldn’t do anything to betray your trust. 
you weren’t a light sleeper, which worked to his benefit. the cold air didn’t cause you to stir at all even though you were clad in a old bralette and skimpy shorts. he could see the outline of your nipples hardening through the fabric of your bralette, though, and he couldn’t resist from reaching towards them to rub at them with his thumbs. if awake, you would have shivered and whined, sensitivity ruling over your impulses, but now you don’t react at all. it was like you were a doll, and if your chest wasn’t rising and falling with your breaths he might believe that you were. 
if his cock wasn’t hard before, it certainly was now. 
he couldn’t resist from stopping to look at you, a rare thing that you don’t usually allow him to do when you were awake. his eyes roamed from the curve of your nose to the dark circles under your eyes to the plush bow of your lips, features completely relaxed. you’re beautiful. his hand moves up to your face, cupping it gently and moving it towards him so he could press a gentle kiss to your forehead. even though you didn’t feel it, he wanted you to know that he loves you. 
god, he loves you so much.
you let out a soft snuff of breath when he grazes his hands over your hips and he freezes, watching your features carefully until he was sure that they remained soft with sleep. while he wouldn’t mind you being awake, that wasn’t part of the plan. you had said not to wake you up, and he was nothing if not obedient. 
he pulls your shorts down to reveal your bare pussy, panties left off and a wet patch glistening on the crotch of your shorts. had you touched yourself before going to bed, thinking of him? did you come, moaning his name and wishing it was on his dick? or did you edge yourself, priming your body for him, making it ready?
either way, the evidence of your arousal was enough to make him snap as he crawls over you, a dangerously possessive look on his face as he finally takes his cock in his hand. he runs the tip of it through your folds, collecting your slick on him, and the feeling of it makes him let out a groan. he lowers his head to your neck as he pushes in, the slide easy from how lax your body was. He let out a shaky breath as he pushed fully into your tight heat as he moves his lips to your pulse point. the slow, rhythmic rush of blood follows through to his hips as he thrusts in small motions, holding himself back from taking you the way he so desperately wanted to. 
he took your limp hands in his, intertwining your fingers together before pressing them to the mattress above your head. holding you down, even though you weren’t awake to move regardless. he backs up a bit as he picks up his rhythm, focusing on the tiny furrow of your brow and the way your mouth twisted up in pleasure. 
you were clenching around him without restraint, like your body was unconsciously trying to keep him inside of you. he let go of one of your hands, wrapping his fingers around both of your wrists to keep them in place as his free hand wandered down your body to your clit. he rubbed at it experimentally, gasping when your hips jerked up to meet his automatically. he started a slow rhythm with his fingers as he continued fucking into you. your breaths was coming out in short huffs, lips parting again and again with every one, your body responding to the stimulation in a way your mind likely wasn’t. he wonders what you were dreaming about, if you were; he hopes that it’s about him. 
without warning, your body shakes through a helpless orgasm but you remain asleep, eyes fluttering behind your lids. jisung barely has time to spare a thought of how that was even possible before he was hurtling towards his own, the rhythmic clenching of your cunt milking everything out of him until he was barely able to hold himself up over you. he collapses next to you, pressing kiss after kiss to whatever part of your body he could reach, whispering praises to you in between that fell on deaf ears.
when he could stand without his legs feeling like jelly he cleans you up, gently wiping at your dripping hole with a warm washcloth, fixated on the way you clenched on nothing when he passed over your swollen clit. he throws the rag to the side, climbing back over you so he could settle himself at your side and when he looked at you - 
your eyes were open. 
“how long have you been awake?” jisung asks, blinking at you.
“since you started panting into my neck,” you giggle, reaching for him so you could pull him into your side. “you seemed to like me being asleep though, so i pretended.”
“god, it was so hot,” he says, looking up at you with shiny eyes, embarrassingly fond of you. “what did i do to deserve you?”
“well,” you take his wrist, guiding his hand down towards your stomach. “i can think of a few things you can do now.”
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disaster-writer · 4 months ago
Text
Tear You Apart
Pairing: Dabi x Reader
Summary: Someone in the League of Villains has been drugging you and doing things to you, and you were going to find out who
Word Count: 6.5k
Rating: X 18+
Warnings: Dark fic, smut, noncon, dubcon, masochism, sadism, drugging, mentions of exhibitionism/vouyerism
Minors DNI
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There was a cockroach on your bedroom floor.
Your bedroom that was technically a small storage room with only a small futon and a lamp.
It was staring at you.
So you stared back, as your tired eyes tried to adjust to the blurry cockroach that sat no more than five inches from your face as you lay in bed.
You felt like you were hit by a truck.
The cockroach glowed in the sunlight that filtered into the room… you were lucky enough to end up with a window at least. Even if the moonlight never did reach far enough into the far corner of the room, leaving your imagination to run rampant in the middle of the night as to what lay within those shadows.
Though, you don’t think your imagination held a light to your reality now.
The room was spinning, you had to keep adjusting your eyes to the disgusting insect in front of you.
You pulled your bedsheet back ever so slightly, your arm broke through the cocoon of blankets you had wrapped yourself in. Slowly you reached your arm out, pointer finger outstretched, and neared the bug. 
You touched it.
Almost immediately the fucking thing scurried, flipped, and chirped over and over again, running rampant all over the floor. Until after what would be an angonizingly long two minutes for the insect, it died.
Each organ shut down one by one, its little body physically unable to function with the amount of pain a single stroke of your finger caused it.
You pulled your arm back into your cocoon and you stared at the dead cockroach.
You don’t remember taking off your gloves last night. That went for the hoodie you always wore to bed… that went for your pants… that went for your underwear.
You also don’t remember drinking anything last night.
But you were hungover.
Your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you felt like you were going to throw up, and everything just fucking hurt. But the general soreness from the hangover didn’t overshadow the burning, throbbing pain that came from between your legs.
Which meant it had happened again.
You felt your eyes watering, burning tears stinging at your tear ducts.
The first time you tried to chalk it up to falling into bad habits again.
Getting black out drunk was no stranger to you. It had always been easier to turn to the bottle than learn how to control your quirk. It dulled your senses, lessened the harm you could inflict, made you forget what it was to be an outcast of society.
It was safer for everyone that way.
But ever since the broker found you, selling you sweet visions of the future. A future you could help fight for by teaming up with the League of Villains. You had fallen hook, line, and sinker. You quit your vices.
But even if you had decided to drink the night away, that didn’t explain the blood and what you could only assume was dried cum that caked the inside of your thighs.
It was even on your face and in your hair.
That’s what had sent you reeling.
No man, woman, animal, or insect could touch you without immediately doubling over to writhe in pain.
So who the fuck managed to put their cock in you.
You had been so caught up in the how that you never stopped to think about the who until now.
You didn’t want to think of the only logical explanation.
One of your comrades was drugging you and raping you in the middle of the night and now that it’s happened twice, there’s no denying it. No more denying what was clearly in front of you no matter how fucking insane or impossible it should have been.
A choked sob clawed at your dry throat.
Joining this ragtag team of villains was the only thing that ever gave you a sense of purpose in your waste of a life. 
You had nothing.
A father that blamed you for your mother’s death. Telling you that all the unending pain you caused her was the reason she put that gun in her mouth. Out on the streets by fifteen, left to mug people with your quirk just to get by. Getting caught by heroes left and right left you with a criminal record. Alcohol had been your only sense of comfort.
You couldn’t leave the League. You can’t go back to that life.
You don’t know how long you laid in bed covered in those dried fluids and waiting for the world to stop spinning, all you knew was that the sun was setting by the time you forced yourself up and your bladder was fucking killing you.
You extracted your naked body from your cocoon, side stepping the dead roach to gather your clothes from last night that were scattered everywhere.
You pulled your thick black hoodie over your head and your black sweatpants up, hiding the blood and cum so that you could properly take care of it in the bathroom. 
You put your gloves on and pulled your hood up and left the room.
~
“She’s alive! No she isn’t!” Was the first thing that greeted you when you had left the bathroom.
”Hey Twice,” you mumbled, trudging past him and to the bar. You sat down.
Sitting hurt.
You barely looked around the room. You didn’t have to see to know that the entirety of the League was hanging out in that bar. These days it seemed you all were just sitting on your asses and twiddling your thumbs, waiting for the opportunity to make a move.
”Would you like a drink?”
You looked up tiredly to Kurogiri who stood behind the bar and shook your head, the amount of sugar in the mocktail you had Kurogiri make for you sometimes would probably make your pounding headache worse, “Water’s fine.”
You folded your arms on the bar counter and buried your face into them.
You didn’t want to be here with any of them right now but going back to your bedroom with those disgusting stains all over your futon also made you sick.
Either way you were trapped.
You didn’t mind the idle chatter from the others though. You could hear Mr. Compress and Spinner talking behind you in the booth. Twice was on the floor with Toga and from the sounds of it was playing around with his quirk and random items from the bar. Kurogiri talked to Shigaraki to your right of the counter and to your left was a normally brooding Dabi.
One of them had raped you.
You heard a ‘clink’ next to your folded arms, and found Kurogiri placing your water in front of you.
”Thanks,” you mumbled, grasping and raising the glass to your dry lips.
You gulped down the water quickly, draining the glass. You were so, extremely dehydrated.
Placing your glass down you looked to the side, only to find Shigaraki staring at you from behind ‘Father’s’ hand.
Shigaraki always fucking stared.
’The fucking virgin just wants to fuck you. Probably wants to see how long he’d last before you make his dick fall off’
That’s what Dabi had told you after watching you shift uncomfortably in your seat under his unwavering gaze your first night there.
You couldn’t deny he was suspect number 1 on your list.
You pulled the drawstrings of your hood, putting your head back down.
”Where were you this morning. We had a meeting.” 
Fuck— now he was talking to you.
”I had a rough morning,” is what you replied with, words muffled by the fabric of your hoodie.
Your heart beat picked up, beginning to hammer in your ribcage as you heard him stand up.
He was moving closer, sitting himself in the seat next to yours.
He had said nothing for a few long beats and the uncomfortable proximity of his body to yours made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.
”Someone was in your room last night.”  
It felt like the air was knocked out of you. 
You slowly peered up at him through your hood, finding Shigaraki watching in sick satisfaction as if he just caught you red handed.
The accusation hung heavily in the air as you tried to find the words. Was he self admitting? Or did he see something? Did he know who it was?
But he continued before you could respond.
”You told us no one could touch you without your quirk activating but you’re fucking all night and missing meetings in the morning. You lied to us.”
“No—“ you blurted, perhaps slightly too loud. You leaned in closer, “I—I don’t— it’s not my fault,” you panicked, “I don’t know what’s happening— I would never lie to you about something like that, please. The League is all I have.”
He eyed you and the tears that brimmed in your eyes. His scrutinizing gaze unwavering from your face as he decided whether or not to believe your words. 
“Fine,” he muttered.
”Do… do you know who it was?” You asked softly, still not completely sure it still wasn’t him to begin with, but if it wasn’t and he did know…
”You don’t know?” He asked, suddenly starting to scratch at his neck.
”No.” you replied, quickly wiping a tear that fell.
He was about to say something when someone cut in.
”Would you just leave the crybaby alone.”
Dabi.
“I’m not a crybaby,” you muttered, finally leaning away from Shigaraki, barely sparing Dabi a glance. 
Shigaraki started scratching with his other hand now, which meant Kurogiri was near, ready to talk him down from whatever ledge he was currently walking on.
”Yeah, sure,” he remarked sarcastically.
You should just go back to your room. You don’t think you can handle talking to someone else that could possibly be violating you.
Unlike Shigaraki, Dabi barely spared you a glance and rarely talked to you. And although he seemed to be more mentally there than some of your other teammates, you wouldn’t put it past him to hurt you.
He still had a cock after all.
Kurogiri refilled your glass.
”Thanks,” you muttered again, taking a sip.
This was too much. Too suffocating. You needed to be alone even if that meant seeing those stains on your bed.
You stood back up, taking your water with you.
”I’m going back to bed.”
With that, you left the room ignoring the stares and the ‘boos’ that followed after you from Toga for leaving so early.
You’d work with them but for now, they couldn’t be your friends.
Not until you found out which of those fuckers had touched you.
-
You isolated yourself after that.
You went through the motions. You did what you were supposed to. You did the quirk training Shigaraki’s master required of you. You went to the meetings. You tried finding new recruits now and then.
But you stopped hanging out with the others and you only spoke to them if it had to do with business with the League.
Toga and Twice seemed to be the most broken up about it, you had been the closest with those two prior to everything.
But the more you were left with your own thoughts the more everyone became a suspect.
Even Toga. She was a shapeshifter and even if it was unlikely, the fact that she even had the ability to transform into the others set you on edge.
And what if Twice was making clones. You knew he didn’t make clones of himself but what if he made that one exception. Or what if he made a clone of one of the others without them knowing and the clone was the one that raped you and Twice killed it after so not even a real person attacked you and you’re just losing your mind in front of everyone and they have no clue as to why-
‘What if, What if, What if’
You were losing your fucking mind.
You weren’t really even sleeping at night, three hours at most. You were too scared someone was going to sneak in. Whoever it was was clearly somewhat resistant to your quirk and your only line of defense you ever relied on was useless.
But you also refused to leave. You had run from every one of your problems your entire life. You weren’t about to do that here. You needed this— a purpose for your life. Hope for a better future.
You needed a plan.
You needed to figure out who was hurting you. How they were drugging you. How they were touching you.
You had just as much of a right to be here as the rest of them and you weren’t going to be trapped in fear.
You just needed a plan.
~
Dabi sat at the end of the bar, off in his own little world, away from the others and their bonding. Away from their talks about nothing that wouldn’t matter in the end anyway. 
It had been another fucking useless day, just a bunch of “villains” sitting around and hanging out.
His own efforts have proven fruitless, everyone out there was trash and finding new recruits was becoming harder and harder to find with each day.
Cyan eyes glanced at the group, some holding careless smiles and laughing, others brooding in their own little minds as well.
They were all there except you.
You hadn’t around them much these days but slowly and surely you had been coming out of your room more and more again. 
It seemed like you were starting to let your guard down again.
But right now you were busy in that old warehouse the League found for you to quirk train. 
Your training in particular was a cruel affair that he’s had the privilege of sitting in on once or twice.
It was more torture than anything else. Trying to see just how much pain you could inflict on unwitting strangers that had been swept off the streets for that reason and that reason alone.
He couldn’t be sure if you enjoyed it or not. Your face always passive and indecipherable in those moments. But you’d do it anyway. You did whatever ‘ol crusty and his master asked of you.
It pissed him off how willingly you followed after that fucking virgin.
It also pissed him off seeing how much Shigaraki enjoyed that.
Dabi sighed, raising his glass to his lips and taking a swig of the drink.
You’d be back any minute now and you’d be tired, exhausted even.
Maybe you’d want to have a quick drink with the others before heading to bed.
His jaw tensed at the thought and he drained the rest of his glass.
Or maybe you’d go straight to hiding in your room again. Barely sparing a glance or a few words with anyone.
Fuck.
He may have overdone it last time. 
But the sight of you beneath him, his hands spreading your thighs wide open, watching his cock thrusting in and out of your tight little cunt— each barbell pierced into his cock disappearing and reappearing one by one while you babbled whatever came to your inebriated mind, tits jolting with every thrust— it was too much. And Fuck— the way it hurt, every nerve ending a live fucking wire—
”Hey guys,” you mumbled tiredly.
He didn’t even hear the door open.
The others greeted you as he watched you approach them in his peripherals. Some greetings more animated than others, in Toga’s and Twice’s case specifically.
”How was quirk training!?” Toga asked with a toothy grin.
”Fine,” you mumbled, taking a seat at the bar next to Compress.
”Would you like a drink?” Kurogiri asked per routine.
”Yeah, surprise me. Just no alcohol,” you nodded, making Toga cheer, happy to see you spending time with them again. “Don’t get too excited. ‘M not staying up for long, I have more quirk training tomorrow morning so I’m going to bed after this one.”
”Aw boo—,” she grumbled. “No fun.”
”Hey, how’s the gun feel by the way?” Spinner asked.
”Still getting the hang of it, but it feels good. Thanks again.”
”Yeah, no problem.”
The conversation shifted as Twice started telling stories of his more adventurous exploits when he was younger. And there was Shigaraki eye fucking you again.
Dabi watched from the corner of his eye as Kurogiri made your drink.
Weeks had passed since that last time he visited you. Kurogiri had made you only four drinks since then.
And Dabi watched patiently as he poured in each ingredient.
But it was tonight that he used the pineapple juice.
You were the only one in the League that drank the pineapple juice.
He watched him place the glass down in front of you. 
He watched you take a sip.
A grin pulled on the corners of his mouth.
From here on out all he needed to do was wait. And Dabi was nothing if not patient. He had to wait for you to finish the drink, wait to hear you tell everyone you were tired and going to bed, and finally wait as each and every member of the League turned in for the night.
Usually by the time he could sneak into your room you were peacefully asleep. Never expecting Dabi to rouse you from your sleep, surprise taking your features every time.
Tonight was no different.
Just like clockwork you were the first to retreat to your room for the night… but not before draining your glass.
Fuck— he was getting excited.
One by one, each of his comrades decided to call it a night.
First Shigaraki and Kurogiri, then Compress, then Toga, Twice, Spinner…
And that made one.
Dabi cleared his throat, choking back the excited giggle that threatened to escape and climbed to his feet.
It had been too fucking long since he’s been able to indulge like this. With not much else to do these days he had been left with his own imagination and hand for too long.
Like a moth to a flame he found himself at your door, silently pushing it open and slipping inside.
His eyes nearly glowed in the dimly lit room as they landed on your curled up figure, laid peacefully on your futon, fast asleep.
Moonlight was the only thing to illuminate the room.
His cock throbbed, it was painfully hard as it had been for almost an hour now, precum smearing his boxers no doubt.
He palmed himself through his pants as he walked towards your peaceful form, pretty face becoming clearer the closer he got and the more his eyes adjusted to the lighting.
Unceremoniously, he collapsed to the floor, sitting down in front of you, no more than five inches from you. He watched your chest rise and fall with each of your breaths.
Carefully, he picked up a lock of hair and tugged.
You stirred but were far too drugged to wake up from the action.
He dropped the lock, fingertips now reaching for your face— your cheekbone, gently brushing them along your warm skin.
His breath hitched, little electrical shocks started in his fingers and danced up the length of his arm.
”Fuck, got my fucking cock throbbing, crybaby” he panted huskily, “Time to open those pretty eyes of yours now,” he said, giving your shoulder a shake.
“Hmm,” you whined.
”Wake up,” he said again, a harder shake this time.
You blinked your eyes open just slightly, before shutting them again.
You gave a confused hum, “Dabi?” You mumbled.
”That’s right crybaby.”
”What’re—why,” you slurred together.
He pushed your shoulder back— you were so pliant that he was able to effortlessly maneuver you onto your back.
You continued to mumble, trying to make sense in your drug addled mind as to why Dabi was in your room. All the while he was climbing onto the mattress and spreading your thighs as he settled between them. He tugged you down slightly, hooking your legs over his hips and pressing his clothed cock against you.
”Miss me crybaby? I’ve sure missed you,” he grinned, grabbing your gloved hand in his own and guiding it towards the tent in his pants, “See.” He exhaled breathily, using your hand to grasp his cock.
You tried opening your eyes again, waking up a bit more.
”Wha’s happenin’” you murmured, fingers wiggling in his hold as you tried shifting beneath him.
He only hummed, saying nothing as he lifted your hand up. He grasped the middle finger of your glove and pulled.
And just like every other time, your eyes shot open.
”No,” you whined.
”Yes,” he hissed back, pulling your glove completely off and discarding it to the side.
”Can’t touch,” you pulled your hand back and he let you cradle it to your chest. Instead shrugging his jacket off and pulling his shirt off before tossing them with your glove.
”Yes you can,” he grabbed your wrist, placing your hand on his abdomen.
Specifically on the deep purple scars.
Pain radiated from the surface of skin you touched, deep into the tissue. A shockwave of hurt burst from the center of his body, outwards.
His head fell back as a guttural groan clawed its way from his throat.
He ground his cock into you as wave after wave of pain wracked his body.
It was then that your sobs reached his ears.
He dropped your hand but the pain lingered blissfully, though it was dull.
“Fuck.”
The first touch was always the best. 
He grinned as he gazed at your tear stricken face.
”Let’s get you out of this,” he said, tugging your hoodie up.
You struggled but were too weak to stop him, every muscle in your body relaxed from the drugs.
You babbled nonsense, he didn’t even bother to try to make sense of what you were saying, just like every time before. Besides, the blood rushing in his ears was distracting anyway. 
You had no bra on, making his fingers move to the button of your jeans, fumbling with it as he eyed your tits heaving up and down with each of your breaths. He finally yanked them off your legs, along with your panties.
“Why are— does it hurt?” You continued to mumble, “How.”
“Hah—“ A laugh escaped Dabi. Tonight you seemed more concerned about hurting him rather than him stripping you down naked and getting ready to fuck you. “Wanna remember how good I can make you feel?” He asked, fingers now finding your wet cunt, stroking between your folds. That familiar, irresistible pain resumed in his hand as he pet you.
You gasped and wriggled, trying to move up the bed and get away, but the new grip on your hip prevented you from doing so.
Dabi’s head was reeling, pain and pleasure clouded his mind.
You were the only fucking girl that set his nerves ablaze in such a way. If it wasn’t for his vengeance set in a different, higher place he thinks he would never leave the bedroom with you.
Two fingers pressed into your cunt and slid in, making you squeal.
”Dabi no—“ you sobbed, continuing to wriggle in vain. “Why—“
“Shh,” he hushed, “Don’t think, just feel,” his thumb found your clit and rubbed tight little circles into it.
”Stop— I never— I’mma virgin.“
He barked out another laugh.
”You haven’t been a virgin for over a month now crybaby.”
You whimpered and cried, turning your head into your pillow as your voice became higher and higher pitched the longer this went on.
His free hand stroked your body, feeling the curve of your hips and the dip in your waist before gripping your breast. He then dived for the other, latching his lips around your nipple, pain sparking in his lips and tongue and the parts of his chest that brushed against you.
He continued to suck and tug on your nipples as his other hand continued to work you between your legs.
”Why, why, why—“ you cried, “Dabi why.”
”Because you’re mine you fucking idiot— now cum already.” He growled against your breast.
Your back arched as if his voice held any actual authority, and you came. Tears streaking your face with each spasm of your cunt.
When you came back down to earth you were a shivering, sniveling mess.
”See,” he sighed, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”
You sniffled, keeping your eyes squeezed shut.
”None of that,” he pulled the hand from between your legs and cupped your face, fingers digging into your cheeks as he smeared your fluids against your face. “No pretending you’re somewhere else. Open your eyes.” You blinked them open slowly, “Good.” He hummed, smacking your cheek lightly and sitting back up.
The pain you inflicted had finally turned into a duller thrum throughout his body. 
Meaning he had to fuck you now for his next fix.
He sucked your sticky wetness from his fingers before undoing his belt then his jeans.
He pulled his cock out, the feeling of it brushing against you making you inch away.
”See that baby?” He grunted, tilting his head back as he stroked his cock and cupped his balls, “You’ve got me so fucking pent up. Makin’ me wait almost an entire month.” He looked back down to you, eyeing you up like an animal. “Ready for my cock crybaby~” he taunted.
The words had fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.
”I’ll take that as a yes.”
He tugged you down by the hips, cock nestling between your folds. He gasped out and jolted at the sensation in his cock. 
There was no separation of the pain and pleasure you inflicted on him. It was one. Indivisible. 
And so much better than anyone else could ever offer.
He gripped his cock and lined it up at your entrance, heart beating rapidly against his ribcage.
His breathing came out hard and laborious, chest rising and falling dramatically as he psyched himself up to push into you.
That initial thrust would have him cumming. It did every time.
Fingers bit into your hips.
“1…” he growled, “2…” he shut his eyes.
”3.” Said the voice behind his ear.
Dabi’s eyes snapped open in time to see the bullet lodge itself between your eyes.
Your dead body turned to sludge, melting beneath him.
His ears rang as the unmistakable feel of a barrel of a gun pressed itself against the back of his head.
You held the gun, standing over Dabi’s kneeling figure.
As the ringing died in both yours and Dabi’s ears, the deafening silence became louder.
Bile crawled up the back of your throat as you looked over his shoulder.
His cock was still hard.
You cocked the gun, the little ‘click’ shattering the silence.
He sighed, shoulders slumping as he pushed his head back, leaning into the gun’s barrel.
”Maybe…” his raspy voice started, “I underestimated you.”
”I could kill you,” you replied coolly, “I should kill you.”
”But you won’t. I’m a pretty big player in all this League of Villains shit and you know that,” he started turning slowly, looking over his shoulder, bathing his profile in a bluish moonlight and illuminating the sick grin he wore, “So what exactly’s the plan then? Huh, crybaby?”
He was taunting you.
You set your jaw tightly and genuinely thought about pulling the trigger.
The nickname made you sick. You thought he was just being an asshole to you in the bar a few weeks ago when he called you that… you wouldn’t have thought it was a twisted little nickname he gave you after assaulting you.
”I want to talk.”
He scoffed, turning around, gazing up at you as he sat leisurely on your futon. He didn’t even bother to tuck his cock back into his pants. “I didn’t come in here to talk.”
”But that’s exactly what’s going to happen asshole or I’m going to tell Shigaraki—“
”He already knows crybaby. He watched.”
You faltered, face completely falling, “He- he what?”
Dabi grinned maliciously at you, “I let him watch last time, especially since you were such a good girl for me the first time I stopped by, taking my cock so well. I figured since he has such a hard time keeping his eyes off you then I’d really give him something to look at.”
“So,” you began shakily, “When he was interrogating me at the bar for missing that meeting—“
”Oh he knew why. He had been jerkin’ it to you the entire night.”
Fuck— tears were starting to collect in your tear ducts.
You blinked quickly in an attempt to hold them back.
You were just so fucking weak. How was it that you found yourself in progressively worse situations your entire life.
Joining these guys was supposed to mean something.
”Why,” you swallowed, gun shaking in your hand, “I thought we were supposed to be teammates.”
”I’d argue that we’re more than that now,” the words felt sinister, making you grow sicker by the second, “Do you want to know what the first thing I thought when the broker introduced you?”
You stayed silent, you didn’t want to play into this little game of his.
”I thought ‘now what cruel motherfucker would make someone that looked like you but wasn’t allowed to be touched’? But then,” he leaned back on his hands, nearly presenting his cock to you, “Once I was balls deep in that tight little virgin cunt, and you were shaking and crying in my arms I realized that you were made for me. I am the only man in this world that can fuck you. Your cunt belongs to me.”
Shit, shit, shit
”Don’t feel too bad though. This isn’t a one way street. I’ve never had pussy that’s made me fucking shake before, and that’s all you crybaby. You’re the only one that can offer me the kind of pain and pleasure that makes me forget about every crappy thing in my life.”
He was getting in your fucking head. 
“You’re insane.” You muttered hoarsely, throat suddenly dry, gun shaking even more in your hands.
”Well, what sane man would want you?”
You don’t know what possessed you, the weeks of anxiety? All the pent up anger he had caused?
Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. You threw the gun across your little room and lunged at Dabi.
He wanted to feel pain? Then you’d show him what actual pain feels like. 
Your inebriated body couldn’t access the full potential of your quirk.
And you hadn’t been quirk training for nothing.
You tackled him to the futon and landed in the muddy remnants of your clone, straddling his waist as you placed both your palms against his bare chest.
Dabi’s hand flew to your wrists as… as a groan left his throat. It wasn’t a scream or a wail, it wasn’t what you expected. And the pinch in his eyebrows was anything but anguish.
His palms were hot but he wasn’t using his quirk to push you away.
You had seen and heard looks of agony and suffering on people more than you’d care to admit, but this was not that.
You pushed against his chest harder, against the deep purple scars and seams of his body, digging your fingers into the stapled flesh and drawing blood.
”Fuck— that’s different,” he groaned out, “Why’s it different.”
”Why aren’t you in more pain,” you snapped, “I’ve made grown men kill themselves after only brushing against my arm just to end their suffering. What the fuck is wrong with you!” You screamed into his face.
He only moaned in response.
Which was when you had realized he had reached down when you weren’t paying attention. He reached between the gap where you had either leg on either side of his body and was fisting his cock. He was jerking himself off while you were hurting him.
A disillusioned laugh escaped your throat, broken and choppy.
This was absurd.
This went against everything you believed about your quirk while growing up.
That your entire identity surrounded the fact that you inflicted pain and everyone and anything would always see you as the villain because of that. You were meant to be avoided and feared, never wanted or desired.
You were losing your goddamned mind.
”You’re a fucking freak,” you suddenly laughed louder at the realization, watching him drag his fist over his cock, the metal barbells of his Jacob’s ladder glinting in the moonlight. “You walk around here all tough and moody, acting like you’re better than everyone else but you’re just as fucking crazy as the rest of them.”
“You’re just as sick,” he choked out with a laugh of his own, “Watching me playing with your clone. You listened to her cry and beg me to stop and you just watched.”
”Shut up,” you hissed. You knew it was wrong, you had promised her you’d stop him before he touched her inappropriately, but when he started you couldn’t bring yourself to end things. 
A twisted part of you wanted to watch and it made you fucking sick.
Just as what you did next made you sick.
You reached down between your legs and grabbed his cock yourself, pushing his own hand away.
He threw his head back, letting out an even louder groan. You could tell this one hurt more than the hand on his chest and it made you smile knowing he was in pain no matter how much pleasure he got from it.
You started jerking him off yourself, listening to his heaving grunts and groans with every stroke of your hand. You paid no mind to the piercings in his cock, if he liked the pain then he could deal with any snagging.
He started tugging on your shirt, pushing it up higher. His hands pawing at your body until one reached your bra, pushing it up to grab your tits.
Your mind felt like it was splitting. You didn’t want him to touch you but you didn’t want to stop him.
But the nail in the coffin was when he tangled a hand in the back of your hair and tugged you down.
He was kissing you.
He tasted like burnt flesh and cigarettes.
His tongue forced itself past your lips and brushed against your own in broad strokes.
You didn’t pull away, you only kissed him back with equal fervor, biting his lips and letting him stick his tongue as far back into your mouth as he wanted to.
You moaned into the kiss, a moan that had been swallowed by his mouth, sending a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach.
He broke the kiss. Glowing cyan eyes boring into yours, “Ride me crybaby.”
You sat up, pulling your hoodie over your head and quickly undoing your bra, throwing them to the side as Dabi pulled at your pants.
You smacked his hands away, standing up to work them down your legs yourself before landing on top of him again.
He hissed at the pain as you touched him with a newly exposed body.
You ignored him, grabbing his cock and lining it up at your entrance. You sunk down slowly, adjusting to the size and the feeling of the piercings entering you.
But it wasn’t fast enough for Dabi because he was grabbing at your hips and pulling you down forcefully onto his cock.
You shook and cried out from the pain, collapsing against his chest as you sucked in breath after breath.
But Dabi shook harder from underneath you, pained moans of your name leaving his lips. You watched in curiosity, ignoring your own throbbing pain from between your legs as he started panting, body going slack.
You started laughing, you were pretty sure the fucking freak just came, ”Did you just—?” 
”It’ll get hard again, just start fucking moving,” he grunted, grabbing at your hips.
So you did.
You had no idea what your were doing so you just did whatever felt good, and grinding your clit against his pubic hair felt really good.
The feeling of his cock getting hard inside you again made you dig your fingers into his stapled flesh once more, drawing more blood.
”Shit— ride me better,” he hissed.
”I don’t know how—“
“Shut up,” he spat, holding your hips in a bruising grip as he bent his knees to get some leverage and began to thrust into you from underneath.
“Oh fuck,” you gasped. You had never felt anything like this before.
The next second he was slipping his arms around your back and switching your positions, slipping out of you but you had barely any time to process it as he slammed back into you as he was now hunched over your body.
You yelped at the brutal pace he set, hips pounding against yours. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass and every piercing dragging in and out of you.
Your high pitched, breathy moans mixed with his own deeply pained and pleasured grunts. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and all the lewd wet noises that came with every thrust made you blush deeply.
Next he was yanking your leg up, hooking it over his elbow, allowing him to reach deeper inside you.
You threw your head back, “There,” you breathed out.
You were getting close and Dabi could tell by the clenching and unclenching of your cunt. He snaked a hand down and found your clit, rubbing tight circles into it.
“Cum crybaby, show me this cunt belongs to me.”
You fucking hated that nickname. And you hated his entitlement.
You wrapped your hands around his throat, listening to those pained noises that were starting to make your head spin.
He fucked into you even harder.
Everything went white. 
You were cumming and then he was cumming, the two of you shaking in each others arms.
He had slid out with a hiss, collapsing beside you, careful not to touch you.
You stared up at your ceiling, listening to his pants. You turned to look at him.
He really was shaking. 
You reached over and touched his chest, grinning at the now truly pained reaction you got.
He activated his quirk making you hiss and pull away, cradling your now burned hand to your chest.
It was quiet for a few beats.
”Why are you able to touch me?” You finally asked.
”The doctor that put me back together said my pain receptors are fucked.”
”Oh,” that actually… made a lot of sense.
You looked back to him again. Eyeing his profile, following the slope of his nose and the subtle pout of his mouth. You looked at his scars, how the deep purple skin was being held together to his healthy skin by staples. You stared at the swollen seams where the skin was connected.
You were beginning to think he had it wrong.
He was actually made for you.
-
Tear You Apart Prequel (Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki)
Deleted Scene
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johnnycakesswitch · 4 months ago
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The most “boys will be boys” things the gang do
• Steve, Soda, Dally, and Darry stay walking around half naked, ESPECIALLY in the summer. Their shirts are never on. Soda’s jeans are unzipped half the time smh
• as much as they really really try, the Curtis boys are known for leaving their dirty laundry everywhere 😟 no matter how messy they can be though, Two-Bit’s room will always be exponentially worse
• one time Steve and Soda wanted to see who could eat the most chocolate cake so they each ate a whole half of a cake and threw up later
• Johnny do not be washing his clothes 😭😭😭 it’s rly not his fault but Darry will offer to wash up some of his stuff with Ponyboy’s and Johnny will be like “no thank you it’s not that bad 🙂” bros jean jacket probably carries the plague
• they literally don’t stop eating. It’s canon that the Curtis brothers all have big appetites, everyone else is just as bad. Most of their money goes to groceries bc they literally just eat and eat
• Ponyboy tries to lay in bed directly after track practice before showering bc he’s tired and Sodapop is appalled
• so so so many wrestling and football injuries. Pony’s always tripping and falling face first. Steve is a fucking pincher when they’re wrestling so Soda and Two-Bit always have little ass bruises on them from him 💀 during football Johnny is really good at slipping between people bc he can be pretty quick but one time he managed to take Steve down with him and they knocked their heads together
• Dally unfortunately enjoys driving around and yelling obscenities when he has Buck’s car. No one is off limits. He’ll trail behind Johnny and be like “ay what that mouth do” and Johnny just lets out the most defeated sigh
• Ponyboy and Curly were each other’s first kiss “for practice” and didn’t rly think much of it until they realized they’d only been kissing each other even tho they didn’t need practice anymore and never tried to get w anyone else 😭😭😭
• if Two-Bit sees any kind of animal worth catching in his mind like an armadillo or some shit he will indeed try to catch it and bring it to the Curtis house and Darry is just like if you don’t get that damn armadillo off my porch
Anyway I love these sillies even tho boys are gross 😒
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cranberry-writes · 4 months ago
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Dating Headcannons for The Boys characters!
Please send requests, i need motivation
Characters listed; Hughie, Butcher, M.M, Frenchie, Kimiko
Warnings; Mentioned drinking and cannon typical violence/language. Also i’m barely on season 2 please bear with me
Hughie;
- He’s so so sweet about your relationship
- He gets you flowers for no reason other than he saw them and thought you’d like them
- He has thousands of reminders so he won’t forget anything, from a drink you liked to your anniversary he will have it written down.
- Later on in the series he gets protective and cautious about the relationship, scared someone (homelander) will mess it up by hurting you
- He’ll probably push you away a bit to try and protect you but after you knock some sense into him he’ll be back to normal
- Loves park/library dates, going on a picnic during the summer and to the library when it’s to cold out.
- He will do so much for you (flowers, gifts, dates etc) and insist it’s nothing but will cry (happy tears) if you do the same
- Don’t get me wrong tho, he’s still a bad ass (sometimes). He just dosnt want you to think differently of him because of it, he’s hurt people, killed people, and he honestly isn’t too keen on focusing on it. Even if you two are in the same line of work.
- And if you two don’t work together he tries to keep his ‘work’ life and dating life separate, very separate.
“You’ve never told me what you do for work, maybe i could stop by and meet your co-workers.”
“Uh, actually, i don’t think that’ll work.”
“Why not? is everything ok there or something?”
“I-, uhm, work alone, so i don’t even have coworkers for you to meet really, it’s really boring infact you’d probably fall asleep just from me talking about it hahaha.”
- You find out like two days later
Butcher;
- Little shit
- I mean that affectionately
- His pet names will range anywhere from “Darlin’” to “Fucker” and i WILL stand by it
- He’ll probably introduce you to his work before he does his dog
- But his dog is the big ticket, you meeting Terror is essentially his way of proposing before proposing
- He’s protective but not in the “i’ll watch your every move” more in the “im teaching you how to use every weapon to ever exist” way
- Honestly work would probably come before you for a while before he sucks it up and actually makes an effort
- Dates will be at the most shity bar imaginable, unless he’s apologizing for something then he’ll take you to the nicest place he can and put on a suit. (it’s the Cheese Cake factory and he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt under his jacket but he’s trying)
- Unlike Hughie he will introduce you to his work at some point, granted it would still be a while before he did but he would at some point.
- He’s sweet in his own way
“Darlin’, look what i got ya.” And it’s a Garfield shirt a size to big but you still wear it anyways
MM;
- Definition of husband material
- remembers anything and everything after being told one time
- makes you baths with rose petals and candles and all that stuff if you mention you’ve been tired lately
- Takes you out to the movies and a nice restaurant at least twice a month
- Good gods he’s sweet to you
- He knows how to cook/bake and will make stuff for you all the time
- My guy will make a meal from your culture and practice making it almost daily just to give you a taste of home.
- He really loves back massages and cuddling after a long day
- Put on some crappy reality show for background noise and nap together
- He wants you as far away as humanly possible from his work, will literally say shit like “everyone at work has the plague you can’t visit” as a joke to try and change the subject
- Chances are you won’t find out
- His favorite flowers are tulips and nothing will change my mind about it
“Baby what are these?”
“Tulips, I bought them from a street market on 11th today. They’re your favorite, right?”
“Gods, sweetheart you’re perfect.”
Frenchie;
- When you two meet you both think it’s just going to be a one night stand
-…then it’s two nights, then three, then a week, then you start spending more time at his place than your own. One day you guys just realize you’re moved in and dating
“Are we dating?”
“…Was there anything else we could be mon cœur?”
- honestly i don’t think you two would get together if you weren’t working together, or at least you were also into some shady shit
- But overall you guys have a strong relationship, one gets hurt the other kills someone, someone is hungry the other is already cooking, stuff like that
- He also cooks but it’s only french food, it’s like a super power. He can cook any french food effortlessly but literally anything else he messes up
- If you are french he’ll be super happy someone else will appreciate the same stuff in a similar way
- If not then he’ll be happy to share stuff with you, teach you some french words and tell you about stuff he grew up with
- Honestly he’s just happy someone (other than Kimiko) will listen and take an interest
Kimiko
-I have a confession to make, Kimiko is my favorite and i have a very blatant bias towards her
- Kill anyone you want bby i don’t care ill always like you
- Anyways, It probably takes you a while to get close enough to her that she’ll consider dating you
- Once y’all get to that point i don’t think you could break it tho
- I think she would like constant minimal physical contact, like hand holding or leaning on each other
- I think she’d be pretty protective over you, like someone looks at you wrong and she wants to maul them
- Learn sign language with/for her she will love it
- Draw with her, get her supplies, like those alcohol markers i’m sure she’ll love them
- Honestly i don’t think she’d be big on pet names, she wouldn’t object to it but i don’t think she’d give you one first
- Cook for her, i just think it would be sweet and she deserves it
“I got you some of those markers you’ve been looking at for a while.”
Thank you, this is nice
- Please she’s perfect i love her
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droopycoquette · 4 months ago
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Ridin' or Nothin' || Benny Cross x Reader
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Summary: A little exchange of services
Warnings: hella fluff, angst, suggestive content
Word count: 5.1k
|*|
You had been watching him, that much you could admit. Your eyes always caught him on the road, riding around with the wind in his hair. Sometimes you’d even see him walking around with a cigarette tucked between his slightly chapped lips, he was rarely without one. He exuded a sense of danger that both intrigued and scared you. But there was something about the way he moved, rough yet graceful, that made your heart skip a beat whenever he passed by. However, you never dared to approach him, always hiding in the background observing.
You didn’t mind, it was comfortable.
The town was small so it was easy to watch him. Easy to find him even because he was always in the same places. Bar, road, gas station, and occasionally grocery store. That last one was rare though. When you saw him across the aisle looking at bread, you thought you were hallucinating.
It was a rather strange sight; he looked so out of place. A tall, blonde biker in a grocery store with mothers and children, casually looking at bread. You would have giggled if you weren’t so nervous. Your lips slightly parted as you lost motor control of your body, the bag of rolls you held falling out of your hands.
“Shoot,” you muttered as you quickly bent down to pick them, trying to prevent the weird looks from staying on you.
You chuckled nervously as you rose up, giving timid looks to the grandmas and moms looking at you.
“Hello dear,” a high-pitched voice greeted cheerfully, forcing you to shift focus.
Turning around, you came face to face with Mrs. Leonard, a regular at your family’s bakery. She was an older lady having several grandkids that she loved to gush about. But, despite being older, she still had strength that astounded you greatly. You weren’t surprised to see her here, just bummed that she was here now, the only time you had seen biker boy here.
“Hello, Mrs. Leonard,” you smiled. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Oh, likewise,” she smiled back sweetly. “What are you doing looking at rolls, sweety? I couldn’t imagine buying rolls here when I could have yours to eat for free.”
You smile at her compliment, your ears warming.
“I was simply looking. I’m actually looking for ingredients. I’m trying a new recipe for a raspberry curd cake. How’s your son? I heard he’s back in town.”
“That sounds mighty tasty. And oh, he is just wonderful. It’s so nice to see my grandkids. Ya know, ever since they moved to California-”
And she was off. You liked Mrs. Leonard, truly you did, but you could never get used to her never-ending monologues about who-knows-what. She was a cute old lady, though.
As she spoke, you moved to put the rolls back on the shelf, and when you turned to look back at the biker, he was gone. A small crease in between your eyebrows developed as your bottom lip found its way between your teeth. You nibbled on it as you felt disappointment wash over you. However, you quickly masked it with a well-practised smile.
As you wandered the store next to the old lady, your mind wandered back to the handsome biker who had been standing right across the aisle. You perked up slightly as you realised that that was the closest you had ever been to him. You could practically smell the gasoline and cologne that wafted off of him. You had even seen the small freckles on his face and took note of his faint sun-kissed cheeks, just the slightest bit of pink.
This was also the first time you’d seen him without a cigarette.
You felt a tug at the corner of your lips that only stopped when you rubbed it away.
“Dear? Hello? Bun!”
Your eyes snapped to Mrs. Leonard, hearing the nickname given to you by your family.
“Are you alright, bun,” she asked, placing a hand over yours. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“Oh. Yes ma’am. I’m quite alright, just a bit tired is all. No need to worry. What was that you were saying?”
“Oh, yes! Monti, the dreadful boy has been tearing at-”
Her story continued on until you had finished checking out and had to part ways. And when your back hit the seat of your car you let out the biggest sigh of the week. What was supposed to have been a ten-minute grocery run for fresh raspberries and lemon juice had turned into a 45-minute gossiping session. The energy that was supposed to be used to bake that new raspberry curd cake had been exerted to try to keep up with Mrs. Leonard. Now, you’d have to pull from nothing.
Your head slammed into the steering wheel with a groan that was quickly replaced with a yelp when your car horn went off. People entering and exiting the store turned to look at your car in confusion and slight offence.
“Sorry,” you chuckled timidly.
|*|
The next day rolled around, and you were excited to put out your new Raspberry Delight, which is what you had decided to call your new cake. You had been experimenting with this cake for the past two weeks, figuring out what to layer, and how sweet the raspberry curd should be. Should they have a raspberry jam? Was that too much? Perhaps, a layer of crumble? But, last night, you had perfected everything and had gotten the green light from both your mother and your father to sell.
You had decided to sell it in these cute mason jars and had personally tied the little maroon bows on it. You were setting out the last of the baked goods into the little window by the register when the doorbell rang, letting you know that someone had entered the store.
“Good morning,” you greeted cheerfully, from below the register, setting the dirty trays there.
“Good morning,” a gruff voice spoke.
You stood abruptly.
He was here.
Tall, dark, and handsome was here…right in front of you.
You, who probably has flour all over her and who is sweating from the ovens.
“What can I get for you today,” you say softly, looking down and wiping your hands on your apron.
“I couldn’t help but overhear you yesterday, about the raspberry…something cake. It sounded mighty good and I thought I would come by and get it before it sold out.”
“You were listening,” you let out, surprised.
“I sure was missy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of something so tasty,” he admits with a sly smile.
You couldn’t help but giggle at his statement.
“Okay, one Raspberry Delight, anything else?”
“Is there anything else you would recommend?”
As you let yourself think, the man let himself look at you. You didn’t notice, but the biker’s eyes never left you and one thing he noticed was that your eyes never met his. He didn’t like that. He wanted to look at him. He needed you to look at him.
He saw your eyes light up as you thought of something, making the man smile. And just as you were about to speak, a sharp voice interrupted
“Excuse me.”
The sharpness in your mother’s tone made you bite at the inside of your cheek.
“Good morning, ma’am,” the man smiled politely, despite her cold demeanour.
“We don’t serve customers like you,” your mother bit.
You knew your mother’s opinion on the growing biker gang in town. Your father and your mother both thought that the group of men were a bunch of bums who had no right to be causing such a fuss. They hated The Vandals, almost as much as satan. You recalled nights at the dinner table where your father's anger had boiled over, making him claim to do awful things to the biker gang. What’s worse, your mother had egged him on.
The man’s smile faltered at your mother’s words, but he recovered quickly.
“I just wanted to buy a cake,” he said calmly.
You could see the tension in his posture, the way his eyes flickered between your mother and you.
“Mom,” you said softly. “You always say business is business.”
“Well, this is MY business,” she snapped. “And I reserve the right to refuse service. Get out of my store.”
You felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you - frustration at your mother’s closed-mindedness, and sympathy for the man standing in front of you.
Your eyes met his, and you hoped that he could understand the apology. He nodded towards you, and you watched his jaw feather in annoyance. You felt your heart drop at the realisation that he might blame you.
“I’ll take my leave then,” he said, walking away as he took a cigarette out of the box.
“Yeah, you go on now,” your mother sneered, causing you to flinch.
He didn’t respond as the doorbell dinged.
You watched as the man walked away, his back straight and his steps purposeful. You couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders.
You swallowed in disappointment in yourself and your lack of ability to stand up to your mother and in your mother for her lack of empathy and kindness.
“Don’t you ever talk to them folks again? Ya hear?”
“But-”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she cut you off. “You so much as go near them, and I’ll make sure you don’t leave the house again. You understand me, girl.”
You just looked down, and your mother took that as a yes. She went back to the kitchen, muttering obscenities under her breath, and you went back to setting up for the day, now with a heavy heart.
As the day went on, you found it difficult to concentrate on the daily operations of the bakery. Your hands moved mechanically as you went through the motions of baking, but your heart was heavy with a mix of curiosity and guilt. Each served customer was a reminder of the one you couldn’t serve, the very one you wanted to the most.
“Hey,” your dad said softly. “What’s going on in your head bun?”
“Oh, nothing,” you smiled sweetly, perfectly masking your growing frustration with your parents, the town, and life in general. “Just a little tired is all. I stayed up late trying to come up with a new thing to work on and now that the raspberry cake is done I need something new. I’m going to go make a new batch of the Raspberry Delights.”
You tightened the scarf around your head as you walked back to the kitchen to grab the fresh tray of cookies that needed icing.
“Okay,” your dad called. “But focus! We don’t need you burning yourself again because you were off in Neverland.”
You knew he was joking, but it did nothing but jab the knife a little deeper.
As you began making the base for the cake, you found yourself wondering why you bothered to stay. It was your baked goods in the window, and yet, it was their name on the sign, getting the money, and it was them making fun of you.
Every time you brought up the fact that you wanted a portion of the profits because they were selling your ideas, they had a fit and said, “Your baking isn’t even that good. Since you now have a couple of things in the window, you think you can call the shots, huh? Is that what it is? Well, maybe we’ll just take them out.”
It was empty threats, and you knew it was, your items were some of the best sellers, but it never stopped the fear that entered your system. However, the thought that you might never leave and be stuck here with parents who don’t respect you or your creations scared you more.
A newfound determination lit up in your gut as you baked.
That evening, after closing up, you told your parents you wanted to work on a new pastry that you’d been thinking about and that you’d meet them at home. They had been hesitant but let you stay in the end, telling you to be careful on your way back. You waited a good 20 minutes to make sure they weren’t coming back before gathering up your things and the two freshly made Raspberry Delight jars and locking up the store.
The cool night air brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, your heartbeat quickening. You hopped on your bike and threw your bag in the basket, careful not to break the glass before you took off down the road. Even a couple of blocks down, you could hear the rumble of engines and the faint sound of laughter from the home of the town’s biker gang.
As you approached the bar, you hesitated, hopping off your bike that suddenly felt childish next to the rows of motorcycles. You could hear the whooping and hollering of the men inside and jumped when you heard the sound of shattering glass followed by laughter.
Your breath left you in small huffs as the chilly night air nipped at your cheeks. The two jars in your bag hit each other softly, causing a ‘clink’ to echo through the empty space. It also caused a surge of resolve. You jogged up to the doors before the newfound confidence disappeared and opened them gently. You entered the bar without making a sound and closed the doors even softer than you had opened them.
The dimly lit bar was crowded with rowdy bikers, their denim jackets adorned with patches and studs that allowed the light to glint off of them. The air is thick with the scent of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. As you stood there, taking it all in, you could also smell the distinct scent of leather and engine oil.
As you make your way through the crowd, you try to avoid making eye contact, feeling small and out of place.
Don’t draw attention. Don’t draw attention. Don’t draw attention. Don’t draw attention.
That mantra in your head continued as you hugged your bag close and made yourself small. Navigating the crowded bar proved to be rather difficult, especially when you were trying not to hit anyone. A plethora of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ left your lips before you reached an empty table in the back. You sit your bag down and allowed yourself to breathe as best you could anyway, the taste of smoke filled your mouth, making it dry and slightly bitter. You try to swallow, but the air feels too thick and heavy to allow it.
The dim, hazy lighting of the bar, combined with the smoke from cigarettes and the bodies, made it difficult to see clearly. People pressed close together, their limbs hitting one another.
You stuck out like a sore thumb. You had worn a corduroy skirt that day and, if that wasn’t bad enough, a pastel blue halter accompanied it. If ‘Look at Me’ had a mascot, it’d be you.
The tips of your ears burned as your eyes scanned the crowd of bikers. Normally, you could find tall and blonde easily but, in this crowd, it was like trying to find a needle in a needle stack.
However, after about 10 minutes of searching, you found him near the pool table. His eyes fixed on the green felt with an intensity that you could feel from all the way across the room.
You allowed yourself to just stare, taking in his rugged appearance that finally seemed to fit into his surroundings. His arms were on full display, and the light caught the ridges of his muscles in a sinfully perfect way. His hair was tousled and swooped up as if the wind had permanently swept it there. The thought made you giggle. You took in his tattoos, his rings, and the grease stains his shirt housed. The stains alone sent you to a whole daydream.
Visions of him fixing a motorcycle, his muscles moving seamlessly as he worked. His focus fixed on the machinery, understanding the beauty and power of the bike, and knowing exactly what it needed. A playful smile on his lips as he caressed the engine. The sunlight catching the sweat glistening on his skin, highlighting every curve and ridge of his body. His strong hands, covered in grease, as he worked with precision and finesse. The occasional grunt or sigh as he exerts force in just the right places. Every now and then, he let out a satisfied chuckle as he successfully fixes a part.
Before you knew it, you had replaced the motorcycle.
You let out a squeak at your own imagination. Causing heads to turn towards you. For once, you didn’t notice because you were too busy mentally beating yourself.
You had to give him these cakes before you embarrassed yourself even more.
You took a deep breath to steady your nerves before making your way over to him, each step feeling heavier with the weight of uncertainty.
As you approached, he finally tore his gaze away from the pool table and locked eyes with you. There was a flicker of surprise in his expression, quickly masked by a guarded demeanour. You could sense the tension in his posture as you stood before him, unsure of how he would react to your presence.
He walked toward you, cue stick in hand. His piercing blue eyes bore into yours as he got closer.
“Can I help you with something, sweetheart,” he asked, his gruff voice filling your senses. He leaned against the cue stick, bringing him closer to you. Even hunched over he looked down at you, you had never felt so small.
"I... I brought you these," you stammered out, holding out the two jars of Raspberry Delights towards him. "What happened at the bakery earlier wasn't right and I’m ashamed that I just stood by and let it happen. Please accept them as an apology."
He studied you for a moment, his face contorting slightly as a myriad of emotions flickered. Finally, he reached out and took the jars from your shaky hands.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, his gaze softening.
You nodded with a smile, clasping your hands together and letting out a breath of relief. You rocked back and forth on your feet as you realised that you hadn’t planned out a conversation in your head. You had no clue what to say to the man standing in front of you.
As you struggled to find the right words, only two came out:
“Okay bye.”
You were moving before you could register, bolting out of the crowded bar and into the crisp air of the night. You allowed yourself to breathe in deeply, filling your lungs fully for the first time since you entered the bar. It was also easier to breathe without him being near.
You swallowed as you stood straight up and shuffled towards your bike. Your lip found its place between your teeth while you replayed the interaction in your head. You shrunk into yourself at how you acted. You had dreamed of an interaction with tall and blond for months, given him numerous names that never seemed to fit. You had thought about wowing him with a quick tongue and a perfected sense of humour. But, when it came down to it, you chickened out. You literally ran away.
You reached your bike, which now seemed extra childish coming out of the bar. Now that you think about it, you’ve never been so close to a motorcycle before, only looking from afar. The need to inspect the bike tugged at your heart. It didn’t take much for you to give in.
You reached out and let your fingertips graze the frame of the bike, collecting the dirt that had found a home on the metal. Your eyes trailed the winding metal of the interior, wondering what each thing did. You could smell the gasoline and faintly taste metal on the tip of your tongue, and you smiled at its slight sweetness.
“You like bikes?”
Your hands flinched back as if the bike itself had spoken and your eyes went to the voice.
“Um,” you stuttered as you were met with tall and blond. “I, uh, I don’t have an opinion on them. They’re pretty though.”
“Pretty?” he chuckled, flicking the butt of the cigarette to the ground.
“Mmhmm. I’ve never seen one up close before. I apologise for touching them, it won’t happen again.”
“Calm down,” he smiled. “You look like I’m about to cut your hand off.”
You swallowed thickly and dusted off the dirt your fingertips had collected.
“Come here.”
His tone was friendly and inviting yet commanding, so you followed him over to a particular motorcycle that he leaned against.
“This one’s yours?” you asked/stated.
He just smiled a crooked smile and nodded.
“You can inspect to your heart's content, little miss.”
You feel a familiar tug at your lips as you let yourself circle the bike. It was a lot nicer than the last one, in your opinion. The black colour of the fenders matched tall and blonde, and the framework looked well-loved. You allowed your fingers to touch the bike, letting them trail down the seat until they reached the end of the bike and fell off.
“Hey, listen,” his voice making you snap your eyes to him. “How ‘bout as payment for the cakes, I take you on a ride?”
Your heart jumped into your throat, “Oh, I could never. I’m happy to watch from a distance.”
“Oh,” he feigned a pout as you walked back to where he was leaning. “Well then miss, I hate to say this but I can’t accept these.”
He pulled out a jar from each of his pockets and presented them to you.
“What?” you looked at the cakes and then back at him, offence displaying itself on your features.
“You heard me,” he smirked. “It wouldn’t be right. You put an awful lotta work into these cakes, you can’t just be given ‘em away.”
You bit your lip at the predicament in frustration and furrowed your eyebrows. The tall man raised an eyebrow and fought a smile that told you he was enjoying this.
“So, you’re saying if I let you give me a ride…you’ll take the cakes?”
“Yes I am, miss,” he confirms. “It would be my pleasure.”
An internal battle raged in you, but all you had to do was glance at the look on his face. The thrill of the unknown mingled with the warmth of his smile was enough to make your heart race. His eyes housed a genuine want, a need, and far be it from you to deny him. The “battle” was over before it even started.
“Fine, yeah, okay,” you relented.
His grin widened as he got on and gestured for you to hop on behind him. You couldn’t contain the flutter of excitement as you settled onto the motorcycle. The engine roared to life beneath you, vibrating with power and promise, mirroring your heartbeat.
“Hold on to me,” he instructed.
You swallowed before wrapping your arms around him gingerly, really your arms formed a ring around him, not touching him at all.
“You’ll need to hold on a little tighter, miss,” he chuckled.
Slowly, your arms tightened around him, a little too slow for him apparently because he kicked off suddenly causing you to grip him harshly.
“You jerk,” you shouted, as the wind nipped against your skin.
You couldn’t hear it but could feel the laugh the man in front of you let out, his strong back convulsing in a familiar rhythm. Your cheek was pressed against the denim of his jacket, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Lights and corn fields passed by in a blurry mix, and soon the stars were the only thing you could see clearly.
His rythmatic breathing brought a smile to your lips, and you could picture the look of pure serenity on his face. His cologne mixed with cigarettes and gasoline became one you already missed as you breathed in deeply, savouring every moment.
You understood now, the feeling The Vandals sought out, it was peace. It was forgetting everything and giving it all to the road ahead of them. The thrill of speed coursed through your veins, exhilarating and freeing. You held on to the man in front of you, feeling the powerful rumble of the motorcycle beneath you as it devoured the distance.
Every now and again he would look back to check on you, and every time you’d give him the same reassuring nod that let him know you were doing okay.
As you rode deeper into the night, a sense of liberation washed over you. The worries and insecurities that had plagued your mind earlier faded into the background, replaced by a sense of adventure and possibility. The road stretched out before you like an endless ribbon, beckoning you to explore its twists and turns.
However, it was over too soon. Before long, you had found your way back to the biker gang’s bar.
He finally came to a stop in a small open space, the engine purring to a halt. You untangled yourself from him, stepping off the bike with shaky legs.
You turned to face him, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. His eyes bore into yours, a mix of mystery and need.
“Thank you,” you beamed. “That was wonderful.”
“My pleasure miss,” he grins back, a hint of sadness flashing across his face as he got off the bike.
“I’m jealous,” you admitted, watching as took off his gloves. “You get to do that every day.”
“You could too,” he says before he could catch himself, leaning against it. “If you wanted to.”
“That would be amazing,” you say, rocking back and forth on your toes in thought.
The man smiled at your frame, admiring the way you could disappear into your head at the drop of a hat.
“Oh,” you snapped out of your reverie, shocking the man before you. “Now you have to eat the cake.”
“What,” he deadpanned.
“You have to eat the cake,” you repeated. “I kept my end of the deal now you keep yours.”
“I don’t have a-”
“Here,” you say, pulling a spoon from your bag.
“I don’t know where that spoon had been,” he smirks.
“Can you just try it,” you mumbled. “I want to see if you like it.”
He couldn’t say no to you even if he wanted to.
Putting the spoon in his mouth, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out one of the jars of Raspberry Delights. As he twists it open he swears he sees your eyes widen, and he has to stop himself from blushing at your eagerness.
You're practically bouncing while you watch him dip the spoon into the cake and put it to his lips. You hold your breath as he takes it in.
His brows furrow before he breaks out into a smile.
“That’s fucking delicious,” he lets out. “It's not too sweet, which I like.”
He watches as you glow brighter at the compliments.
“I’m glad you like it,” you sigh, looking at the ground in shyness.
“I love it, little miss,” he corrects, as he takes another spoonful of the raspberry cake into his mouth. “Now, I’m jealous. You get to eat these all the time.”
“I can fix that,” you giggle, and before you can think you're cleaning the corner of his mouth with your thumb lovingly.
As you begin to retract your hand, he grabs hold of it, keeping your hand on his face. His eyes watched you intently. There was a raw intensity in them, a fire that burned bright against the darkness. His rough fingers smoothed out yours so that you were caressing his face, his hand still covering yours.
You were so shocked and entranced by the touch that you didn’t notice his tongue darting out to clean your thumb.
A yelp echoed through the night as he sucked on the leftover raspberry cream, your skin prickling with a sudden heat. His eyes remained trained on yours, a twinge of playfulness circling his irises. He observed your gaze fall to where his tongue connected with your finger. He watched as your lips parted in concentration and curiosity.
He loved that look, the eagerness in your eyes to see what would happen next. He also loved the power you gave him in the moment, the trust you gave him to guide you.
He wanted more. He craved more. He craved you.
Your eyes flickered to his as he released your hand and reached out to caress your face. The rough calluses of his hand actually felt nice against your soft cheeks and, unconsciously, you leaned into it. The gesture brought a loving smile to his face.
He set the jar of raspberry cake on the back of his bike and let his hand fall to the small of your waist, pulling you closer. The gasp you let out only fueled his growing need for you. Your chest rose and fell against him and you felt the tips of your ears beginning to burn. The focus in his gaze made you feel like the only girl in the world, and that terrified you. At that moment, the only thing you wanted to do at that moment was look down or away from him, but the hand on your cheek didn’t allow it.
“Can I kiss you miss?” he breathed out, already bringing you closer.
“Please,” you let out, surprising yourself.
He didn't waste another second and closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a fervent, intoxicating kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away as you melted into each other, a whirlwind of passion and desire consuming every inch of your being.
His kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced before, a mixture of roughness and tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. You found yourself lost in the moment, your hands instinctively clinging onto his jacket as he deepened the kiss, his demeanour shifting from playful to intense.
As the kiss lingered, time seemed to stand still. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms beneath the moonlit sky. The night air crackled with electricity, and you could feel the heat radiating between you as if it were its own entity.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless and flushed, your chests rising and falling in sync. His eyes bore into yours, lips falling into a smile.
“I’m, uh, I’m Benny,” he stuttered, his cheeks becoming a slight pink.
“Hello Benny,” you giggle at his sudden show of shyness. “Everyone calls me Bun.”
|*|
A/n: first time writing for Austin!! Feedback is welcomed. Hope you enjoyed!!
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winstonsns · 5 months ago
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the gang with a soc!reader
authors note: sorry the last one was kind of all over the place. i tend to ramble when i write so ill try to stay more on topic this time. in this preference, you and the characters will already be a couple :3 im also wondering if people are clicking the hashtags then they see my posts?? so if that’s what’s happening and you can see my posts when you click the hashtags please tell me because i have no idea if it’s working LMAO
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includes: ponyboy, johnny, darry, soda, dally, two-bit and steve
word count: 2.0k
warnings: mild cussing, mentions of fighting/getting jumped
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PONYBOY CURTIS
you both are academic BEASTS so you’re somewhat rivals and trying to get to the top of the class
but you’re still together, it’s a healthy relationship
most of the time, you’ll actually walk him home from wherever you are since it’s safe for you to walk home on your own, but since he’s a greaser it’s not safe for him
when you met the gang they taught you how to fight in case some greasers or even some socs tried to fight you
by walking him home, you’ve actually prevented him from getting beat up
you like to take him out to get food or something he wants when he gets a good grade since he gets happy when they’re high
sometimes you’ll get lower grades than him and you two will study together, or reversed
you’ll get him a new book every time he finishes another one, by the end of the year he has a new shelf just filled with books you’ve given him
you occasionally read him to sleep when he’s having a hard time, or again reversed
he falls asleep pretty quickly when you do this and he really appreciates it
you always sit together during assemblies and choose to be each others partner in the classes you have together
if you don’t decide to do track one year you’ll go to his meets, and after you always take him out to eat since you’re proud
if he’s extra tired then he’ll ask to go home so you will
you learned how to cook so he can have big nice meals, along with baking chocolate cake when soda and darry aren’t there to make it
pony thinks you make it better than darry but will never tell him that
he really loves spending time with you and feels like you’re the first person besides johnny to really understand him
you made him think about socs in a different way too, in a good way
yall are just humans doing what you know best, some in different environments and had different parents with different parenting styles
you like to bring him to the best places in tulsa to watch the sunsets
you also get the best polaroids of the sunsets and the colors are so beautiful
JOHNNY CADE
as soon as he told the gang that he was dating someone they were excited for him, then they found out you were a soc
dally told him to break up with you without even knowing you, johnny told him to give you a chance
when johnny invited you to the curtis house to meet his friends, you brought presents for all of them since you wanted to make a good impression
you had your ways about finding what they like and don’t like
they immediately took a liking to you when you gave them presents and a kiss on johnnys cheek
you’d patch him up and give him bandaids to take home after getting beat up by socs or his parents
sometimes you’d give him money and he would use that money to get you something you’ve been wanting for a while
he’s always so thankful for everything you do for him and everything you give him
since your parents don’t really care about the differences between greasers and socs, they let johnny stay over since they know things are rough at home
sometimes they’ll take you and him out for dinner with them and you think it’s so cute
he was nervous your parents wouldn’t like him since most of the socs parents would think he’s gross
he’s always proud of you for naturally getting good grades and seeing the smile on your face when you get your report card
sometimes when he’s upset you two will cuddle in your bed or you’ll drive him to a restaurant or fast food place
he always feels bad about spending your money but you tell him not to feel bad about it since you have more
DARRY CURTIS
things got more financially stable when you came into his life
you’d help him pay groceries and the bills if he was struggling, you also helped around the house
sometimes he’ll wake up to the smell of bacon, waffles, eggs, etc and suddenly its like he doesn’t have to be the responsible one 24/7
having you in his life has improved everything, and his brothers are so thankful to have you there too
you’re like a mother to them and they’re comfortable enough to open up to you
sometimes you’ll ask him out on cute little dates randomly just so he can get a break of hard work
he’ll take the day off and get all dressed up since you told him you were taking him to a really fancy restaurant
occasionally you’ll get your nails done just for your dates and he always notices
you’ll ask him “which color is better” and he’ll say “aren’t they the same?” then you have to explain to him that one is darker than the other
he still doesn’t see the difference but chooses one anyway since he likes to see you happy
he’s literally so in love with you and how you’ll do romantic and domestic things for him
you’re so beautiful and perfect in his eyes, and sometimes he’ll stare at you and his brothers will tease him
he really loves being around you and having you by his side
you also helped him become calmer, that pony and soda have their own problems and darry yelling at them probably just makes them scared
he starts to actually communicate with them and you’ll give him gifts for completing or succeeding because why not
he’s always like “hon, you didn’t have to get me this…” but you can see he’s happy with whatever you give him
he just loves you so much and his brothers love you too but obviously not romantically
SODAPOP CURTIS
people actually think the both of you are socs, i mean they’re half right
they think soda is a soc since he’s so handsome and think you’re a soc because of your mannerisms and how you’re very beautiful
you’ll always visit him at the DX just to hang out with him
your parents love him and how he treats you so they also let him stay over at your house
sometimes when it’s sodas turn to get groceries from the store, you’ll go along with him
he just wants to be around you whenever he can
you’ll offer to pay for the groceries plus stuff he doesn’t need but instead wants
once he got a pimple and he freaked the fuck out
you bought him some cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen and pimple patches
you taught him how to use them and when, and in which order to use them in
his pimple went away in a few days
since you’re so smart and get good grades, you’ll help pony with his homework sometimes
soda will stare at you helping him from far away, he thinks it’s adorable that you two are bonding
when the two of you are in your room, you’ll play frank sinatra and the little dippers while having a home-date with sweets :3
you two have so much fun and he even opens up to you about his problems
you offer to get him a therapist but he says it’s that bad, you tell him to talk to you if he wants to talk about it again
he legit treats you like a princess and you love it
yall are the most attractive couple EVER no one can tell if they wanna be you or be with you
DALLAS WINSTON
when he realized he liked you he knew he had to protect you with his life
he needed a break from loud and annoying girls, then he found you
you could get quiet at times and you weren’t constantly screaming and acting like an annoying 12 year old boy
you got him to steal less since you could pay for things on your own
he didn’t really listen and still stole money from other people so he could get you things
whenever he got put in prison you could always bail him out due to the money you have
if he had to serve time then you’d give him money so he could spend it and get necessities
you’ll also make diy crafts for him on your guys anniversary and his birthday
he brings you to meetups with the gang, and they love you being there with him
you spoil him rotten and he loves it
makes him feel like a princess, weirdly enough
he’ll steal money to spoil you too, pays for your nails sometimes
you told him you wanted specific flowers once and he got you flowers sometime the next week, he acted nonchalant about it but he loved the happy look on your face
TWO-BIT MATTHEWS
sometimes you’re quiet but he always finds a way to bring you to tears after laughing so hard
he’s literally the funniest person you’ve ever met
he never really expected a soc to get so loud since they were normally reserved and didn’t talk to many people
anyway you brought him to fucking disneyland once and he LOVED it
you booked a hotel and everything so yall saw mickey mouse
two-bit kinda laughed at him but he seemed happy so he didn’t care
he loves traveling with you and brags about it to the gang all the time
they say it’s cool then act like they don’t care but they’re kinda jealous he gets all that stuff
they’re happy for him though
sometimes you’ll get him little mickey figurines and he’ll put them on his nightstand, sometimes even carry it with him if it’s a keychain
he never would’ve expected a soc to be so nice to someone like him
he’s really glad that you love him and you show it
STEVE RANDLE
before you two started dating he tried to avoid you at all costs
he kinda thought you’d beat up him and his friends so he just stayed away from you
anyway when you guys started dating you’d drive him to the DX
you’d give him tips just for fun even if you didn’t buy anything from him
you’d buy him all sorts of little trinkets and such just so he’d have something to mess around with
i don’t have a lot of knowledge on him bro pls bear with me LMAO
he’s almost always with soda so you kind of became his best friend naturally
you’ll buy steve food on his breaks and drive him to restaurants or fast food places and you’ll eat on a bench or in a field together
you talk about some shit that happened at work while he listens
he’ll occasionally get you some food since he knows you like sweets
then you repay him with something he’s wanted for a while that he’s been asking for
whether it’s a book or food or a trinket idk
he loves you so much and is glad soda gets along with you so well
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sorry this one’s shorter! i’ll try to make the preference longer next time. i’m gonna try to post at least twice per week but if im feeling good ill try to post more 💗 thank you for reading!
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sunsetchicane · 3 months ago
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tired eyes [CL16]
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charles leclerc x PhD student!fem!reader
word count: 3k
summary: The one where you're exhausted from your studies but you still really want your sweet boyfriend.
warnings: 18+ content!! minors DNI!! sleepiness, mentions of school/exams (lol), kissing, smut, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p in v (use a rain jacket PLEASE), tiny bit of swearing maybe? praise/worshiping kinda..., unedited :|
author's note: Smut with a fragment of plot. Oops. I'll see myself out. Feedback is really appreciated so please leave any comments/questions you have!!!! [xoxo elle]
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It had been a long day. No. It had been a long semester. Your last exam week is finally over. After countless hours of attending class, completing assignments, and studying, you made it to the end of your last year of school. You’d officially earned a PhD.
And you were exhausted.
All but falling into your apartment, you arrive at home in the mid afternoon. Dropping your bag onto the floor, you make your presence known to your boyfriend. Charles texted you earlier that day to tell you he would be dropping by to see you when you were done. This morning, you had been really excited about seeing him and maybe even doing a little celebrating. But that was no longer an option, seeing as you can barely stand up on your own. 
“Amour?” Charles' voice rings out from the kitchen.
Tired legs guide you towards him, your eyes drooping and shoulders sagging. When you turn the corner to find him huddled over a small cake, you nearly drop to the ground. He hears you rustling about and turns to you with a huge smile covering his face. His dimples pop, making you melt a little. But, you can’t miss the bags that he too is sporting under his eyes or the way his hair is messy in the truly unkempt way. He looks nearly as tired as you feel.
“I have a gift for you.” Charles says, his voice strained but joyful. Momentarily, he turns away from you to pick up the cake. Once he has it in his hands, he approaches you carefully.
It’s a small, round cake, just big enough for the two of you. The frosting is pink and there are little edible flowers scattered across it. On the top in red, looping letters is congratulations doctor.
A cracked breath leads to a sob. Tears drop quick and hot against your skin.
“Thank you,” You choke out, a hand reaching towards Charles’ face. You can’t see him through your tears, but his concern is palpable. He sets the cake down on the counter, discarding it for the moment being.
Charles’ arms wrap tight around your waist, drawing your body flush to his. Your arms loop under his, resting against his broad back. With your face pressed into his chest, you allow yourself a few moments to just let it all out. It’s been a long road to get here and you’ve finally done it. Charles has been your biggest supporter. You couldn’t be happier to share this moment with him. This is everything to you; he’s everything to you.
Once you’ve cried all of your tears, you take a shaky breath. Your nose fills with the scent of him. A chill runs over your shoulders and down your spine. His grip on you hasn’t loosened. Gently, his fingers flex against your body, lulling your muscles to a relaxed state.
Clarity falls over you as the haze in your eyes disappears. It wasn’t just you who had a long day. Charles was obviously exhausted too, but here he was, taking care of you.
“Charles,” You mumble, turning your face to the side so you can look at him. 
“Hmm?” He hums while looking down at you. His hands have started to move up and down your back, caressing you gently. 
Pushing yourself up onto your toes, you press a sleepy kiss to his soft lips. His unshaven stubble rubs pleasantly against your face, making you feel perfectly at home. This is your Charles.
One of his hands comes up to rest against the back of your neck, adjusting the angle of the kiss to pull you deeper. Simple, languid sighs escape your lips while you kiss gently. Everything about it is perfect, slow, sensual. 
In no universe would you ever grow tired of his kiss. Charles was made for you, and you for him. It’s never been this way with anyone else. Even when you’re both too tired to say anything, you know exactly what the other needs.
And right now, you need him.
“Charles,” You say against his lips, your hand dragging its way around the hem of his pants. “Can you take me to my bed, please?”
Kissing you lightly, he nods his head. Gently, he guides your legs around his hips. Holding you with kind but firm hands, he exits the kitchen and heads for your bedroom. 
Your head is tucked into the crook of his neck, blocking out the world around you. You listen to him pad across the apartment, open the door to your bedroom, and then close it. 
Gently, he crawls both of you onto the bed. Your head hits the pillows and you let out a sigh. The cushiony warmth of your bed surrounds you, filling you with a relief like none other. Charles leaves you for a split second to turn on your bedside lamp. It casts a warm glow over the room and across Charles’ face, which hovers above you. 
With sleepy eyes, you gaze at his beautiful face. Even when he’s exhausted, he still looks like an angel. It’s not fair how gorgeous he is. 
Reaching up, you trace along the edges and curves of his face with soft fingers. His eyes slide closed while he relaxes into your touch. It’s so peaceful to be here with him, to be met in this place by him. 
Allowing your hand to slip around his nape, you pull him into another kiss. His response is immediate. A hand latches onto your hip, pulling it up to press against him. Your back arches and a gasp escapes your lips. Charles takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You desperately love the way he feels against you. There’s an indescribable friction between you, like a match to a matchbox. Alone, you don’t live up to your full potential, a crucial piece missing. But when you’re together, there’s warmth and flame.
Tentatively, Charles rolls his hips into yours. Sighing into his mouth, you wish you could articulate to him just how much you loved it. He does it again, sending your mind spiraling.
“I need you,” You whisper to Charles as he peppers kisses down your neck. You ghost your hands down his back, letting them come to rest on his lower back. Too tired to pull him closer to you, you let him move at his own pace. Charles hums into your ear, his body pushing down against yours. His weight on top of you feels heavenly, exactly what you needed today–what you need everyday.
Charles’ languid movements accentuate the tenderness of the moment. It’s not lacking passion by any means, but everything about right now expresses the deepness of the affection you hold for one another. It’s slow, sensual, and sleepy. 
His kiss works over your lips like the sun over a cool summer’s day. His hands flit over and caress your body like the tide ebbs and flows over the sand of the beach. Charles feels like your personal perpetual light source, constant and intimate and warm. The chill of exhaustion is thawed by simply being in Charles’ presence. Love flows freely through your tired body, bringing a pleasant flush to your cheeks and warmth to every bit of you.
“Amour. Mon amour.” Charles whispers while his lips drag down your jaw. Sighing, your hands knead gently at the lean muscle of his back. Feathery kisses are placed everywhere by your boyfriend as he works his way around your body. Your skin bursts out in goosebumps wherever his lips land.
Silently, you watch as Charles leans back, his weight disappearing from on top of you. You’re about to object when he begins to slip his shirt over his head. The fabric creeps up his torso and you watch in quiet pleasure as he exposes himself to you. 
“Like what you see, baby?” Charles teases, his voice soft but gravely. 
“Mhmm,” You mumble, not having the energy to tease him back. Reaching your hands out to rest against his bare waist, you’re desperate to have his warm, smooth skin against yours. Charles slides his hands slowly over yours, then down your wrists and up your arms. With strong arms, he lifts you toward him. You oblige, sitting up in front of him. He kisses you once softly while his fingers find the bottom hem of your shirt. Gratefully, you let him slip off the shirt, your bra quick to follow. A small pile of your laundry twisted with his has begun to grow on your bedroom floor.
Gently, Charles holds you in both hands while leaning you back down against the bed. His chest is flush with yours, the skin to skin contact making you blush and sigh. Closing your eyes tight and pushing your head back into the pillows, you wonder how your body is even registering how good this feels while you’re so tired. But you’re not complaining.
“So beautiful, baby.” Charles says, causing you to open your eyes to peer into his green ones. His lips drag down the column of your throat in an open mouth kiss before he gets to your chest. Lazily, he takes one of your breasts into his mouth, his warm tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple. A pinched gasp exits your throat while your hands fly up to tangle in Charles’ fluffy hair. His hands hold fast over your ribs, applying the perfect amount of pressure while he languidly has his way with your chest.
Watching him with silent wonder, your eyes rarely fall away from each other.
“Wanna,” His lips unlatch from your nipple which is stiff with your arousal.
“Make,” He presses a kiss to your sternum.
“You,” His tongue drags down your stomach.
“Feel,” He nips softly at the soft skin of your waist.
“So good,” He presses a soothing kiss to the bite he left.
Absentmindedly, you find yourself nodding, completely transfixed on the man between your legs. He’s everything you could have asked for and more. Sugar sweet, gentle, kind, passionate, funny. There hasn’t been a moment when you were with Charles and there wasn’t joy to be felt. Even on the shittiest days to exist, like today, you both know exactly what the other needs. You complete each other in more ways than one. But right now, you’re desperate for him to complete you in a very specific way.
Charles has made quick work of both your pants and underwear. Lifting your lower back with a hand, he slides a pillow beneath it so you’re already arching upward. 
“Comfortable?” Charles asks while his lips glide over your thighs and his hands pull them both over his shoulders. Nodding at him, you watch as best you can as he finally moves his face over your center. Hot breath fans over your sensitive skin, making you groan and arch, your head pushing back into the bed. 
“Charles,” His name rolls from your mouth like a prayer when his tongue passes through your folds. Soft hums rumble Charles’ chest when he takes you into his mouth. The vibrations shoot straight through you, causing you to clench your body and gasp. 
Your boyfriend goes about his work between your thighs. His tongue circles perfectly around your clit and teases your entrance every once in a while. Flurries of pleasure run rampant in your body, collecting low inside of you. Charles brings pleasure with every touch, every flick of his tongue, every squeeze of his hands on your thighs.
When you feel a finger push inside of you, pumping slow and hard, your body jolts with pleasure. Back arching, you bury your fingers into Charles' hair while letting out a sharp moan.
“That’s it, baby.” Charles says while briefly pulling his lips away from your cunt to press kisses along your sweat and slick soaked thighs. “Such a hard working, good girl. You deserve this.”
His words make you clutch his hair in your hands and moan. Charles returns his tongue to your clit, working it in the way that only he knows how. The sensation of his fingers curling inside of you in tandem with his lips on your clit has you clenching. Your tired body comes alive with the buzz of your impending orgasm. 
“Please, Charlie, feels so good.” You beg quietly, your voice coming out tired and needy. Charles speeds up and adds another finger inside of you. He sucks mercilessly on your clit as you unleash a string of stuttering moans and curses.
“So close, baby.” You mumble, unable to speak any louder than a whisper. Charles hears you anyway, both your words and your body telling him how close you are. 
“Taste so sweet, my girl.” Charles says while coaxing you to the knife’s edge. With a few more swirls of his tongue and pumps of his thick fingers, your pleasure bursts and releases to your entire body. Shaking and gasping, sparks fly behind your closed eyes. Your legs attempt to snap shut, but Charles’ body stops them from moving. He continues to stroke in and out of you while your body crescendos.
Once you’ve settled back into your own body after the life-altering orgasm you just experienced, your breathing is ragged and you’re still desperate for Charles. Gazing at him with hooded eyes, you don’t miss the way one of his hands is now stuck down his boxers, moving just slightly. His eyes are on you while he pumps himself. 
Grabbing his arms with your exhausted and fucked-out hands, you try to haul him back on top of you. Obliging to your wishes, Charles’ hand leaves his boxers so he can crawl up to hover over you. His lips are quick to find yours, letting you taste yourself on his swollen lips. Kissing him slowly, you slip your hands down over his chest and stomach. Without a second thought, you hand pass under the hem of his underwear to wrap around him.
His sharp sigh against your lips has you smiling sleepily. His forehead drops to the crook of your neck as your hand works up and down his erection. His breathing grows choppy as he rolls his hips into your hand, trusting softly. 
“Need you inside of me,” You whisper into his ear. His hips stutter as he groans into the soft skin of your neck. Together, you push his boxers down his legs, the final piece of clothing joining your small pile. 
Charles’ hands run down your body, caressing your curves as he goes. One of his hands props himself up over you, while the other knocks your bent knee to his hip. Reaching between your bodies, you line him up with your entrance. 
You groan in unison as he slides home. Charles takes his time as he pushes into you, relishing the warmth and the tight squeeze of your walls. Ever since you got on birth control, condoms have become a thing of the past. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of having not a single thing between the two of you. 
Charles pulls out painfully slow, gliding against you in a tortuous way. The pleasure that trails his moment feels so full and complete, it has your stomach tying in knots. Your fingers dig into his back, your back arching at the sensations fluttering around in your body.
Then when he pushes back in, your world is set on fire. He dives slow but hard into the one place inside of you that nearly makes your scream. Your entire body cries out to him, clenching and singing at the way he feels.
Over and over again, he works himself in and out of you. His pace is sensual and lovely, but equally as damning.
“You’re so tight, baby.” Charles praises breathlessly, his hand tightening around your leg to pull it higher. The angle switches just slightly and he hits a new spot inside of you.
You chant his name, begging him for more, more of whatever he’ll give you. He praises you and you bask in the grunts and moans that spill from his gorgeous lips. Together, you find the perfect rhythm that has you both shuddering and struggling to keep from coming undone. 
When Charles guides your leg to wrap around his waist, he uses his free hand to reach between you and resume circling your clit. Moans wrack your body as your legs shake around Charles’ body. You clench around him and feel his pace slipping.
“I’m so close, mon amour.” He tells you while frantically circling your clit, obviously determined to pull you over the edge with him. And it works. Just as soon as you reach your climax, Charles follows, pumping in and out of you sporadically. 
Stars spill over your vision as your body buzzes with your orgasm. Charles’ body has flopped down on yours, the perfect thing to pull you back into reality. Lazily, your fingers move up and down his warm back. Exhaustion creeps in once again, threatening to pull you into a luxurious sleep. Charles isn’t helping, his lips pressing his signature soft kisses against your sensitive neck. Everything feels so comfortable and incandescently happy, lulling you toward the peaceful state of sleep you’ve been wishing for. Your hands draw still against Charles’ back while your eyes begin to flutter closed.
“Wait, mon ange. Wake up, beautiful, we have to get you cleaned up.” Charles says while he takes your face in his hands. Groaning, you try to ignore the soft kisses that he leaves on your skin in attempt to keep you awake.
Suddenly, you’re being pulled from the warm comfort of your bed and into the arms of your boyfriend. Curling up into his chest, you flop lazily against him while he brings the both of you into the bathroom. 
“I’ve got you, baby.” He whispers into your hair just before you hear the water of the shower turn on. “I’ve got you."
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sonarspace · 7 months ago
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recharge, suguru geto
a/n: based off a request from a friend. hope you like this bae <3. (not proofread!) content: suguru x reader. suguru’s clingy. fluff. wc: 1.1k
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. suguru comes home late at night. stress evident on his face as you try to greet him like you usually do but he’s dismissive. not even a proper peck and he’s pulling away from you and going straight to the bedroom.
it hurts him more than it hurts you when he behaves like this. he wishes he could talk to you but he’d just end up breaking down and he’s tired of having you see him like this. he should be strong for you, shouldn’t he? you’re not in this relationship to take care of him constantly and get nothing in return. so he pushes you away.
he hopes you understand why he’s being so distant. and you guess he wants his space so you give it to him. but you also can’t just leave him alone so you tread carefully. you know he think he’s being selfish but you don’t mind it. he doesn’t realize it but he’s been there for you countless times taking care of you and being patient with you when all you want to do was rot in your apartment. so you try to do the same.
you give him his space. let him sleep alone in your shared bedroom. he lays in bed waiting for you to join him but he doesn’t know how to ask for it after he was so dismissive with you earlier. he huffs annoyed at himself and falls asleep yearning for your warmth.
the sun shining brightly through the opened curtains wake him up. absentmindedly he reaches out to hide his face in your neck but you’re not there. your side of the bed untouched and cold. eyebrows furrowed he walks out of the bedroom but you’re nowhere to be found. a throw blanket laid across the couch confirming his suspicions that you let him sleep alone. i mean he kinda asked for it, didn’t he? shit. did he really hurt you?
just as he’s about to grab his phone to call you he hears the jingle of keys unlocking the door. a shiver of relief runs over his body and he lays back in bed before you can see him. you set the groceries on the countertop and go into your bedroom to check if suguru’s woken up yet.
“suguru,” you softly call out his name. his heart clenches. he wishes you’d come over and touch him so he could use his sleepy state as an excuse to pull you closer. “hmm,” he groans. and when you finally lean down and lightly brush his bangs off his face he nuzzles his cheek into your palms.
you soft callouses kissing his cheeks. your fingers rub over his skin softly. and he’s so happy to feel your touch. “wake up, sleepyhead. let’s eat something.” you whisper planting a kiss near his ear.
you feel his arms around as you flip dora cakes. “feeling better?” you ask him. instead of replying he just nuzzles his nose into your neck causing you to slip out a sweet giggle. he covers the skin of your shoulder in kisses. his hands slip under your tank, scratching lightly at your abdomen.
he stays attached to your back as you try to move around the kitchen to plate your breakfast. you wonder what changed overnight to have him this clingy but frankly you don’t mind it. it’s better than him shutting you out.
“suguru,” you huff playfully but he doesn’t let go. he clicks his tongue in disagreement when you separate your food in two plates. “what?” you turn your head slightly to look at him. “same plate.” his voice muffled as he speaks into your neck. “okay,” you smile.
you’re so beautiful he thinks. his heart skips a beat at the way your smile enhances your features even more. he never wants to make you sad.
you cut up a piece and bring it up to his mouth, tease him with the food every time he opens his mouth. he grabs your hand to keep it still and takes a bite. you both take turns feeding each other sometimes letting out breathy laughs but mostly silently gazing in to each other’s eyes filled with love.
he spends the day crowding your space. his head in your lap as you answer emails on your laptop. he turns in your lap so he can face your stomach. his finger moves under your top pulling it higher and he pokes into your bellybutton and giggles when you let out yelp. he places a few kisses on the expanse of your exposed skin. from the left side of your hips to the right covered in his love. he even follows you the bathroom and waits outside until you’re done.
he grabs your face as soon as your out and places a desperate kiss on your lips. you kiss him back with the same fervor. you’re both walking back until he falls onto the bed pulling you with him and you break apart with a laugh. your head tipped back and laughing has him laughing as well. he moves in closer as you both quiet down.
“i’m sorry for last night,” he starts. “suguru, it’s o-“ you’re about to say until he places a finger onto your lips to stop you from talking. “no baby. it’s not okay. you should call me out if i’m being an asshole, okay? please baby. i wanna be better for you.” he tells you. and you just smile against his lips “okay, sugi. next time you don’t kiss me when you come in thru the door you’re getting a smack on your ass.” you joke. “i’m serious darling,” he says. “and don’t ever leave me alone in bed. and don’t sleep out on the couch if it’s not with me.”
“yes sir,” you tease making him smile. having had enough of your teasing he grabs your hands in one of his and pins them above your head. he comes in close and you ready yourself for a kiss until you feel his other hand tickling your sides and your burst out of laughing.
you manage to free your hands from his grasp and try to stop him “okay stop okay okay,” you say between laughs. he places kisses under your ear and over you jaw and neck as as you calm down from your laughing fit
“i love you. thank you for keeping up with me,” he tells you seriously. “i love you too, suguru.” you respond with a smile. and a beat later you whisper, “the sex makes it worth it,” eliciting a loud laugh from him.
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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rel124c41 · 4 months ago
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LABORATORY LOVE. jade leech
It makes perfect sense that you are failing potionology, you come from a world without magic! You just wished your failures weren’t the recent entertainment to a certain vice-housewarden.
tags: developing relationship, character analysis, teeth analysis, teasing, potion accidents, 5 + 1 trope, comedy of errors, suggestive themes, & getting together
word count: 21,656
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Since the beginning of your impromptu enrollment in Night Raven College, classes have taken your dizzy brain and swirled it around like mixed cake batter. Uncaring of your blunders, the courses march on. You have had multiple professors pull you aside for hush conversations about how: magic might not be something you should be studying; you’re showing great difficulty with this section, my door’s open for extra help; do you have any hobbies, perhaps you should look to pursue one of those. 
You wonder if they knew you were from another world entirely along with being magicless, their tone might change. Compared to others, you were leaps and bounds above where you should be. 
Not that you are aware of your competence. And, even then, it is never enough. Which is admittedly very frustrating. You do not like to be viewed as a failure or incompetent. 
Back at home, you were always on top of your studies, kept yourself afloat on a little canoe. In Twisted Wonderland, your limbs grow fatigue with how harshly you have to tread water to stay afloat. Constantly, you felt ready to drown. You manage to withstand it though, avoiding going under by keeping water a fine line across your chin and bottom lip. 
And, even then, that is never enough.
I. The scarab beetle was added before ginger root when the correct order is ginger root then scarab.
To be fair, you are tired beyond belief. You had to pull off your gloves multiple times to rub sleep out of your eyes. Switching up the order of the ingredients … This is one of the stupider mistakes you have made in Professor Crewel’s class. To be thoroughly fair, the anxiety about your recent situation coupled with sleeping on the uncomfortable spare bed in Leona’s room has been starting to kill your restful nights. 
What a well devised strategy. Chip away at the mental fortitude of a person by taking away physical comforts. Azul Ashengrotto truly knows where to point the arrow notched in his bow. 
You just wish he had chosen anyone other than you.
Yawning, you deposit the comatose scarab beetle into the cauldron. One second it is a black freckle on the gray-blue mixture, and then the next second it has been dissolved down to the bone. It ate it as quickly as acid does, you think awestruck, I’m glad I’m wearing gloves. Said gloved hand holds itself outstretched towards Ace, your lab partner, as you murmur, “Okay, hand me the ginger root now.”
“Huh? I already handed you that though,” Ace says, looking up from the logs of cinnamon he is cutting as instructed.
Usually you two have Grim do the physical labor, cutting up ingredients, while you and Ace uptake harder tasks. However, Grim is not free, called in for an impromptu shift during school hours. Part of you cannot comprehend how that is possible – to work during school – but another part of you cannot comprehend magic, so really the whole globe, this Twisted Wonderland, is incomprehensible. 
An incomprehensible globe where you make friends with the stupidest of the bunch. 
“No you didn’t; you handed me the next ingredient that had to go in.”
“Yeah, which was ginger root. Don’t tell me the fumes in here are making you stupider, Prefect. Your brain fried or something,” Ace asks. He tilts his head in a taunting way that is not effective due to the anemone sprouting from his skull.
“Says the one with the anemone coming out of his brains.”
“Hey! Just because you’re being forgetful doesn’t mean ya get to insult me!”
“Please don’t play smart with me right now. I just need —.” Your words fall out of your mouth as you catch the sight of ginger root sitting pretty on your side of the lab table, untouched and not in the potion. You blank, dumb, until a sudden heat wave washes over you.
Not a blush though you realize as a smoke cloud of brimstone blooms up mushroom-like from your cauldron. Your once squinting eyes widen in fear.
The potion releases a wave of gas as it evaporates away in seconds. It feels like getting punched with heat after opening an oven. As you stand there looking at the bottom of your cauldron, mourning your potion, you suddenly hear laughter in the midst of this new humidity.
“... No — HAHAHA — No fucking way! HAHAHAHAHA!!”
Dread fills you first upon hearing it. Whatever has Ace laughing and pointing at you is definitely not a positive in your book. Sevens above, you are not dealing with being potion-ed cat ears again. It must be something physical on you at very least. Because, Ace has not stopped pointing and bursts out between his bellows, “Now you match the part of looking like an idiot! HAHAHA!”
Annoyance quickly shoves dread to the side. Gut-instinct guides your hand before your brain can catch up. Clutching ginger root, you reel back your arm ready to whack Ace with it until a certain hand shackles your wrist. Shit.
“Ace! (Name)! Once again, this is unacceptable behavior from both of you. Did your parents pick you off the streets and neglect training?” Ah, you recognize those dog analogies anywhere. Curling in on yourself, you turn around to give Professor Crewel a sheepish smile while he keeps your wrist hostage.
“Sorry, Professor Crewel.” 
You would be delusional to think your potionology professor has a soft spot for you; he probably only sees you as a nippy Pomeranian or a Retriever freshly showered in mud. The scowl on his face is something you have come to be familiar with from August to November. 
Crewel sighs, “Luckily, these supplies are not hard to obtain. I’ll be sending both of you to fetch more ginger root and scarabs from the botanical gardens.” His steely eyes aim at you. “And Prefect, I suggest retrieving a hat for yourself. An unsightly look is one step away from a disorganized headspace. Try to be a bit more mindful, pup.”
“Yes, Professor Crewel.”
You have no idea where the fashion advice came from. However, you are not going to dig yourself a deeper hole by asking the Professor what he means by unsightly look and disorganized head. Besides with the way Ace is still biting down a grin, you expect that you will privy to it soon.
“Dismissed.” Professor Crewel sends you on your way.
As soon as you two round the cauldron, you and Ace are both immediately on one another. He grabs the back of your neck as you kick his shin. Idiot! No you’re an idiot! Says the idiot! Ace pinches your cheek as you give him a Chinese burn, grabbing his forearm and twisting it in your grip. I can’t believe you messed that up! At least I’m not signing contracts to cheat! Stumbling to the door, kicking and fighting with each other, you just barely catch the glimpse of Deuce sending a wince of sympathy your way. 
Ace sticks his finger in your ear. His spit-coated touch sends a shiver down your spine. Breaking your whispering, you caterwaul just as you push Ace and yourself out of Crewel’s classroom, “I’m gonna kick you where the sun don’t shine, asshat!” Ace’s cackles are the last thing the classroom hears before the door shuts firmly in place.
The botanical gardens are not somewhere you find yourself often. The mere size of it intimidates you greatly. Plus, it has so many dangerous things lurking inside of it like lion tails, man-eating plants, and carrots that when plucked incorrectly can send you into a coma just from a single scream. For your own growing trepidation, you choose to stay out for safety reasons.
Though splitting up is not your idea, you still concede to it. The guilt over your sleep-addled mistake speeds up your agreement. After all, it was you who switched the order. Thus, you walk around the botanical gardens looking to grab dandelion root (which came before the scarab beetle and ginger root) while Ace gathers a single scarab beetle. 
At least Ace takes up the more perilous task for you. Scarab beetles when provoked flicker on and off in a brilliant light display of red until it explodes. If the mage cannot match the rhythm of beeping reds with the light of their magic pen, the scarab self-destructs. It is hazardous for you to anywhere near an alive scarab. Besides …
Danger finds you like a faithful, old friend.
Standing on the little bridge that curves over the miniature river, danger arrives at your side like a mistress. “So pretty,” someone whispers breathlessly. You choose to ignore this, thinking someone is appreciating the flowers. Pamphlet in hand, you worry your bottom lip and consider which side of the bridge you have to walk down to find the dandelion roots. 
“He-Hello there, Prefect. Quite a nice day for a stroll, don’t you think?”
Caught off guard, you turn to see who is addressing you. It is one of those Octavinelle twins. He holds an empty  jar in his gloved hand. However, you are unsure of which one you are dealing with.
“Ah … yeah,” you twitch as you respond. Where the hell is Ace? You would rather not be alone with a mage that you saw send multiple students to the infirmary only two days ago. You remember it vividly: all the students rushing forward to tear up the contract, as Azul stood on the table, saying with fake direness, “Dear me, I really didn’t want to resort to violence, but alas. Jade. Floyd. Play with them for a bit.”
You shift your eyes away like one might avert the gaze of a stumbling, rabid raccoon. “Sure is … a nice day?” Truthfully, you don’t think you have had one of those in Twisted Wonderland. Your day has just gotten worse in the twin’s presence.
Under the canopy of black walnut leaves and palm washingtonias, you assess all your escape routes. Whichever twin this is, he is looking at you so intensely, eyes half-lidded and the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks. It takes only a moment for you to realize he is staring at what lies on your head, but you have enough time to map your escape route.
“Well, it was nice seeing you –,” you start, heading down the bridge, in the opposite direction of the Octavinelle twin. You just barely make it a step and a half when he catches you off guard again.
“You have Potionology this period, yes? It is a Wednesday after all.” How the hell does he know that? 
Yet, hearing how he structures his words, you think you finally recognize which one it is … Jade, who had said to you just yesterday, “And if you’re in need of lodgings, feel free to come and speak with us. Reservations for guest rooms in Octavinelle dorm starts at 100 thaurmarks a night.” The last conversation that happened between you two. Eyes pinching down, you think, he’s such an asshat for saying that to you who is very much broke beyond broke.
“Yeah, I do.” You resume your steadyfast escape route. You can clearly hear Jade walk over the wooden bridge, following after you. 
“If my deduction is correct, it seems you have been caught up in the potion accident. What a most unfortunate turn of events; potionology is often a tricky subject for students to grasp.”
Yeah, and without magic or a basic education on this stuff, it’s impossible for me.  You send Jade a wary glance. Now matching strides, you really have no choice but to converse with him or your friends will probably suffer more during their shifts. “Yeah, I messed one up.”
But no one says you have to be verbose during it. 
You ponder on why Jade is so interested in the multiple sea anemones blooming from your head. When your scuffle with Ace finally ebbed, the Heartslabyul student turned on his front-facing camera so you could finally see what made you look like an idiot. A glowing crown of blue sea anemones form around your head.
You cringed, your matching visage on Ace’s phone doing the same. Of course you are not spared any break from humiliation; when you come back to your temporary lodgings, Leona is probably going to laugh up a sandstorm. Ugh … you hate that stupid lion!
Jade says, “I’ve noticed this happens to you frequently. In August, you gained cat ears and could only speak in crying meows. You were deaged down to a toddler on September 14th. Then in October, you underwent a body swap with your friend, Ace Trappola, for a full five days; Thursday through Monday. Am I correct?” How the absolute fuck does he know that?
“...Yeah.”
“You know, Octavinelle is always willing to help those in need. I, myself, can offer ��”
“No thanks.” You glance at the pamphlet and take a sharp left turn. Jade follows.
“My, what a harsh rejection. How audacious of you to deny me when I am scheduled to train Deuce and Ace later on tonight. But, I suppose if that is how you feel –”
Begrudgingly, you turn around and frown, “Be easy on them, won’t you? Bye, Jade.” Snapping your pamphlet open wider, you continue on your way. 
What an idiot. You already stuck your neck out enough for them by signing Azul’s contract. Keeping polite conversation with Jade? You could do that. However, you will not take up another deal with Octavinelle anytime soon, unless … well, no, you think to yourself. That hovering ‘unless’ probably won’t happen with Jade. Whatever Jade needs, he can find elsewhere.
Dandelion roots should just be down a little farther; another right turn and you should be upon them. At least that is how your route would have gone if you were not grabbed and spun around by your shoulders. You stare into Jade’s dilated eyes in shock.
“Prefect,” his voice comes out more growl than speech. He soothes his fake humanitarianism voice with a cough and repeats, “Prefect. Just hear me out.” The vice-housewarden almost sounds desperate to keep your attention on him.
“Okay.” You try to ignore the close-lipped smile on his face as you fold up your pamphlet. “Okay.” Dandelion roots are one of the few non-sentient plants in this twisted wonderland, so you can pause your search for Professor Crewel for a mere moment. “I messed up a potion today, but I don’t need your help with it.”
Tutoring … from anyone. You despise the very thought. Before, you were so capable and so independent; now, you have to waver and bend yourself to the assistance of everyone in this alien world. God, you cannot even protect yourself from your day to day. The entire world outscales you like a final boss compared to a NPC.
“Are you absolutely certain? Who knows what kind of misfortune can fall upon you at the hands of a botched potion? Who knows, you could find yourself breathing in poisonous gas or having your intestines turned inside out. What an excruciating sensation.”
A whole body shiver runs down your spine. The fact that that is not out of the realm of possibility makes you loathe your existence in this world even more. Still … “What do you want from me?” … you have Ace and Grim at least making sure you aren’t blown to bits by an exploding cauldron.
“It is just a simple matter of the fungus growing from your head.”
“Fungus?”
Jade’s voice turns so fond that it startles another shiver from you. His lovestruck gaze fastens itself to the apparent mushroom crown sitting on your skull. “Entoloma Hochstetteri mushrooms. The non-scientific name is blue pinkgills.”
Bored and tired, you yawn. Jade glances down at your mouth with pervertish intrigue. It might just be the same amatory he regards the blue pinkgills with staying in his eyes. However, you can imagine him mocking you about having to sleep in Leona Kingscholar’s room so you screw your mouth into a frown.
And, as if reading your body language with ease, Jade offers, “If you are still having troubles with your lodging, I’d benevolently suggest a trade.”
“A trade?”
“A room in Octavinelle, free of charge; all to yourself and your dire-beast for the full two days left in your contract. In exchange, you will give me the Entoloma Hochstetteri blooming from your head. An item for another item. Fair, yes?”
“No.” You straighten your posture. “I want something everlasting; not just temporary satisfaction.”
“Oya? Whatever did you have in mind?”
This is something you have been pondering about for a while. Truthfully, you were considering it your very first week after the encounter with the overblotted creature in the mines. Taking a deep breath, you announce your only term, “I want protection against overblots.”
Jade’s optics grow, dilating and blinking in surprise. It is … simultaneously an extremely well thought out and dumb request. Protection is something you need. But with Jade, someone you barely just met, providing you protection? You neither seem like the type to trust people too quickly or too hold out trust until the very end. 
Immediately on detective mode, Jade tries to figure out your aim. “Overblots are very rare phenomenon. Do you –?” 
“Tell me more about these pinkgills,” you suddenly interrupt, noticing that he is slipping into doubt over this deal.
A hand covers over his erratic heart, and a small sliver of teeth peek through his smile. “Ah, I’d be delighted to. Blue pinkgills are quite mysterious. No one knows if they are edible because no one has dared to try them. There is a peninsula that features them on their currency as well. It is the only country to have a piece of currency featuring a mushroom on it; I’d be delighted to have the opportunity to visit it someday.”
“That’s really interesting. Are they rare to cultivate,” you ask, faking genuine curiosity. 
“Unfortunately, yes. They are native to that one peninsula and thus –”
“Hard to come by? Rare?” 
You supply Jade with the words he is looking for. Subtly, you remind him of the fact these limited mushrooms are just a person’s deal away. The blue halo on your head becomes more and more enticing to Jade by the second. Blue that also bleeds with the color, such a psychedelic hue that almost hurts to look at.
You look like an angel under it … You? Jade hesitates at his train of thought; that is not the conclusion he thought his mind would go to. 
“What a surprise fufu; you are not as brainless as I intentionally presumed, (Name).” Smitten emotion slowly drains from his dual-eyes as he takes in your visage whole, not just the prize hanging above your head.
This is good. Jack could protect me but he is only a first year mage. Ace and Deuce do a good enough job. Grim is only food motivated. Jade did send multiple students to the infirmary by himself. This – “I’m glad to prove such an intelligent mage such as yourself wrong. It’s the first time I have ever done so.” – This is good. This deal will keep me alive and safe.
Jade shakes the hand you have offered up to him. However, before you can end the contact, he yanks you towards him. A groan of pain bleeds from you as you are pulled chest to chest with him. Chin pinched skyward by his other hand, you look into two halos, one gold and the other umber.  
Right away, you clock it as an intimidation tactic, so you do not let yourself appear frightened. Compared to those overblots you faced … 
“However, it would not be fair if I did not receive something everlasting as well. Not just temporary satisfaction.”
Subtle eyes dart around the botanical gardens, trying to find Ace, but halos are all you see. “Okay, what do you want on your end?”
“It is quite common for you to find yourself caught up in the misfortune of a poorly made potion. I want to be there – to watch you struggle and to watch you be powerless. That is all you need to give me.”
“I … I can do that.”
“Then, it’s a deal.”
When you met Jade officially in the cafeteria, you picked up his subtle habit of bringing his hooked index finger up to his mouth before he could smile too wide. When meeting with Azul in the VIP Room, he was very subdued and subservient unlike his twin, listening instead of laughing and nodding along instead of nagging vexed. Now when making a deal with the vice-housewarden, you find yourself peering through a tear in the fabric that envelops him day to day.
For the first time ever, you get to see Jade smile with all his teeth. They curl down and up, reminding you almost of cat claws, with an acute sharpness in each individual tooth. They ensnare you.
II. Your basilisk's egg was not incubated at the correct temperature of 2300 degrees fahrenheit.
Your basilisk’s egg is colder than the collective’s by many, many degrees. Honestly, you blame this one on Professor Crewel for not putting the much needed comma between the two and the three; it was completely natural of you to assume 230 degrees fahrenheit was correct when 2,300 is an outrageous temperature. Regular incubators in your world could not even reach that level of heat!
When you cracked the unfertilized eggs of a serpent king into the cauldron, you sheepishly noticed how much lighter the shade of red yours is compared to others. Almost the pink of a flamingo’s feathers, not red like cranberries, not red like everyone else’s. 
Already too late though; the pink-hued yolk has already sludged into the cauldron. Gravity, such a conniving bastard. You can only watch helplessly as impact is made; the eggshell in your hand is now empty. 
Then, all the liquid in your cauldron rises up like a geyser. 
“Woah!” 
“Holy shit!”
“(Name)!”
Ducking behind your hands, you yell back at Ace, “I didn’t!” That is all you get out before the potion shower lands all over you. You spit out what got into your mouth, “mean to … bleh!”
Magenta sludge drips off your uniform in thick plopping sounds. It is the consistency of a milkshake and you shiver when you realize some has definitely gone down the back of your shirt. 
“Why are both of you clean,” you whine, disassembling the poorly made umbrella your hands made. They drop away from your temple, coated in magenta. Shaking the potion off your gloves, you frown at seeing how both Ace and Grim are unaffected by the geyser that just drenched you. The clumps of potion in your hair make your frown evolve into a grimace.
Grossed out at the sight of you, Ace winches and waves around his magic pen. “Used-a protection spell. Dude, you look ridiculous, haha. Doesn’t that burn?” 
“No, it’s oddly really cold.” 
Definitely the consistency and temperature of a milkshake. You strip yourself of your gloves, carefully folding them inside out. “Ugh, this is going to take forever to wash off.” You do not even know which part of your body to start shaking off like a dog. Your one good lab-coat and your one good uniform, ruined and presumably stained.
An alert shiver zigzags up your spine, and you turn around just in time to see Professor Crewel come out of his horrified stupor. 
As he stands up from his desk, you get this overwhelming urge to run away. You have to physically focus on planting your feet down so this psoriasis itch does not cause you to turn tail and flee. It’s my fault, so I need to accept punishment. Unconvinced by your self-loathing, your body shakes in jitters, ready to rush out of the room should mental resistance let up.  
You are unaware of it, but those emotional cactus pricks of needing to run away from danger will follow you all day long today.
Once finally released from Crewel’s classroom — you had to scrub down everything from the floor, use the emergency shower to peel sludge out your hair, and are given the briefest pat of sympathy on the shoulder — you run into Ace on his way to his club meeting. Is it really that late, you think. Grim left to attend all your other classes, skimping out on the cleanup that was ‘so not his fault! see ya!’ Now you wander, weighing if you should go to Octavinelle first or Ramshackle first. Find Grim or Find Jade?
“Can I join ya,” you ask as you slot yourself next to Ace in the hallway. If Floyd is at practice, you might be able to ask him where Jade is which ends the search for one person. However, it a mute point when you realize:
“It’s kinda a coin-toss if Floyd shows up or not,” Ace responds to your question, both of you standing in the doorway of the gymnasium. Where’s Floyd was what you had asked. Diligently, you search the crowd now. With his height he should be easy to spot; you worry your bottom lip with your teeth. There is really no way you can contact Jade as you do not have his number or know his schedule.
What an asshat. You bet Jade just loves the idea of you squirming around to find him. While he can descend on you like a vulture without any forewarning with his sixth sense for entertainment, you have a harder time locating him. 
Without any warning, you suddenly sidestep away from Ace. The redhead raises an eyebrow curiously before his expression drops in shock. In the spot where you were standing, Floyd trips and hits the ground hard.
“Woah!!” You and Ace shout in unison. 
On the ground, Floyd has the same expression of shock that you two do. Though, it slowly morphs to sadness as he rubs the back of his skull. Seated on the gymnasium floor, rubbing his bruise, Floyd grumbles sullenly, “Why ya do that, Shrimpy? I just wanted to squeeze ya. Haven’t seen you all December.”
Ignoring that, you ask, “Floyd, do you know where Jade is?”
“Ya wanna see Jade?” That relights the eel’s energy. He smiles like he knows something you don’t – which is probably a lot of things, considering where you come from and where you are. “Sure, I’ll take ya. I wasn’t feelin’ basketball practice anyways.”
So, thus you end up following Floyd and Ace like a duckling. Thinking to yourself that this will have to be what happens more in the future. Find someone who knows where Jade is, glue yourself to his side after you messed up a potion, conclude a trail of test runs that borderline on torture. Yet … it is worth it to some extent. 
Vividly, you recall each instance where Jade Leech put himself between you and your faithful friend, Danger. He protected you with a variety of spells the first years have not learned yet in NRC’s curriculum. It really is a valuable deal. 
After Azul Ashengrotto’s overblot, talk between you and Jade has been sparse. It is not like the two of you are going to become friends. A mouse does not become buddy-buddy with a cat. There will never be mutualism between the two species.
Your train of thought slowly ebbs when you realize Floyd, Ace, and yourself are nearing up on Jade. Floyd seems to be crouching forward, in a way that you assumed he did earlier when trying to ambush and scare you at the gym’s entrance. This should be interesting, seeing if Floyd could succeed in getting the jump on his twin. At least it would have been if you didn’t feel like a sword sliced down your spine, spreading heat all over the planes of your body.
“Shit!” You shriek, rushing and bumping into Floyd, seconds before someone yells:
“Hey! Look out!”
In the exact spot you were standing, a framed portrait makes a crashing descent. Well, it would have been crashing if not for a lilac spell wrapping itself around the portrait. Quick and alert, Jade holds out his magic pen, levitating the talking portrait while you and Floyd gather your bearings.
“Geez, Shrimpyyy, what was that for,” Floyd groans, rubbing his arm with a sour look. “You’ve been more like a jumpin’ fish than a shrimp. All skittish and squirmy.”
“I’m sorry, I just felt – Jade, cut it out!”
It is not that Jade is doing anything particularly mischievous. However, when the spell rotates the portrait to face you instead of with its back facing all of you, a shiver that is painful and palpable burns all your pores. The portrait is of a lich, rotted gray skin with curling yellow horns and piercing red eyes.
The voice that comes from the portrait sounds like dark corners of a dangerous night. “What are you mortals looking at?”
Run away, each branch of the nervous system agrees in unison. Terrified, you push off Floyd and rush behind Jade, innately remembering he is supposed to protect you. 
“Wh-What are you doing, (Name)?” Ace asks, glancing at you in confusion. 
The Horned King seems just as skeptical towards you. Jade, raising a perfect eyebrow, looks back at your cowering form and the portrait. 
You can see all the calculations erasing, rewriting, and improving themselves in his head. His million and one hypotheses about the world around him.
“Hm, this is curious,” Jade murmurs just as the person who dropped the portrait calls out:
“My bad man. Stupid spell.” Over the railing of the stairwell, the student setting up the portraits sends you all an apologetic look. Then, noticing the nefarious grin on the vice-housewarden’s face, says quicker, “I’m so sorry about that!”
“Nonsense, I think this has caused an interesting revelation.” Slowly, Jade levitates the portrait up to the student who is very skittish to carry it on with his own spell. “Prefect, how do you feel right now?”
“I don’t know how to describe it … Like a bunch of fire ants just crawled on my skin and bit me all at once.”
“Seems you do know to articulate your thoughts.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, Jade.”
He smiles as if you have just complimented him. “Did you mess up a potion beforehand?”
Your eyes squint in suspicion. “Yeah, I uncooked my basilisk egg. How did you know I messed one up though?”
“Simply an observation. I think the potion causes you to have a heightened sensitivity to danger. You knew when danger was coming and rushed away from it. Foresight?”
“I suppose, who knows,” you say, watching the portrait like a bunny in a burrow might watch a predator, waiting for it to slip away to another area. Tension ebbs from you as the other student takes it and begins his task of rearranging them. You step out of the protective shadow of Jade Leech.
“Who knows,” you repeat, intrigued. “Maybe if I mess up a potion like this again, I can call our deal off. I won’t need your help.” A smile comes up to your face, imagining yourself independent.
Jade only scowls. You wonder whatever for but —
“What did you do to mess up the potion, (Name)! Please, I need it! This would be like an alarm for whenever Riddle’s nearby! I could get away with so much!” Ace squeezes your shoulders with a bruising intensity. 
Ripping yourself from him, you stumble back. A soft ‘ow’ parts your mouth when you collide with something, spine to chest. Jade’s gloved hands come down upon your shoulders unexpectedly, pinning you in place. “Basilisk eggs are a delicacy. They aren’t hard to obtain but they are certainly pricey. However, if you are ever serious about your inquiry, Ace … Azul’s office is always open to help.”
It seems that Ace’s sense of danger is alive and well too, for he takes several steps back at Jade’s words. “Well … when you put it like that, heh. I suppose I’m alright.” His eyes shift to the hold Jade has on your shoulder, not shaken off or side-stepped.
“But you were so eager before.” Jade frowns, putting on an act. He looks awful sorry to see Ace skirter away like a crab poked by sticks at the beach. It is a mere masquerade.
“Naah, I’m good. Have fun, (Name)!”
“Ha-Have fun?!” You sputter indignant. 
But Ace has already left with Floyd in tow. Basketball practice waits for no man. Left alone in the hallway, you shudder in the delicate embrace of a dangerous predator. 
“Have fun … what an appropriate saying.” Jade leans down over you with a smile. You should have known from that smile alone it was going to be bad. And it proves to be bad! Because, of course, it has to do with mushrooms again.
Jade takes you hiking. Apparently, his club starts around the same time as Floyd, and Jade is nothing but meticulous about schedules. So, you are going to be alone in the mountains with Jade … it does not take a magical potion to know that it is a new episode of a true crime podcast waiting to happen.
You tell the three Ramshackle ghosts if you do not come back to treat Grim kindly as you zipper up the hoodie Jade said you would need. The knock on your building’s door sends a shiver down your spine that burns. Like a lightning bolt of prickling pain that makes each pore tingle with fire. You are starting to regret this contract.
“So what exactly am I going to be doing?” You ask Jade as you two make your way down a beaten trail. A heightened sense of danger seems quite trivial for a walk in the woods.
“I was rolling the traits of the potion over in my head,” Jade says, his back to you as he leads the way. “And I was thinking, what a perfect opportunity to unearth the mystery of blue pinkgills.”
“What do you mean?”
“No one has gathered up the courage to test if they are poisonous or not. Being poisoned is an obvious endangerment to a body’s health, don’t you agree?”
“You can’t be serious.” His back never turns. “Jade, no way!”
The smile in his voice is palpable as he teases, “I am only joking. After your potion wore off, the blue pinkgills you gifted me decayed instantly.”
You breathe a short-lived sigh of relief. “However, that doesn’t mean your potion can’t be utilized on this hike.”
“I’m not going to eat a single mushroom.” You vow.
“Nothing of the sort. The hypothesis I want to test out is a bit different.”
Hypothesis? This relationship via contract is akin to a type of scientist’s experiment. Before you can think about the roles of yourself and Jade, your entire body is engulfed with a terrible sense of burning like each particle suddenly was torn in two. It is an appropriate reaction when you realize an entire uprooted tree is rocketing towards you with high-speed velocity. 
“Shit!” You shriek. That is far as your body stays your own. Each atom of the muscular system is possessed by the potion. The potion puppets your body and you find yourself successfully leaping over the horizontal tree-trunk. One hand plants itself on the wood; your legs bunch up to your stomach and then you are catapulting yourself over a log. 
When you plant yourself on the opposite side, feet landing perfectly, your gaze hardens into a glare. “What the hell, Ja–!” An uprooted bush tries to ambush you. Shrieking, the potion puppets all but your fearful vocal cords.
“Now, let’s see,” Jade muses, waving his magic pen. His gold and olive eyes study you. “If I attack from both the front and the back, does it react simultaneously?”
“Jade!”
“Excellent, it does,” Jade celebrates with a sadistic gleam in his eyes.
So, thus it begins. Your first real experiment with Jade and he is throwing an entire forest at you. Frantically, your body jumps and leaps out of the way of roots that try to sweep your legs and rocks that try to cut your arms. You even do a front flip to avoid a particular rock being thrown at you. You don’t know how to do flips unless on a trampoline! Nine of our ten times, you land on your butt performing them; yet, on solid ground you just completed your first front flip on land. Precise yet abusive, your body is puppeted by the potion and Jade’s ministrations. 
If you had known you were going to be attacked, you would have never chosen Jade as your protector.
Suddenly, in the hurricane of foliage and earth, all it changes track and aims away from you. Each individual part – rock, tree branch, colt of dirt, flower and mushrooms – splits. Ignoring your body, the hurricane slips behind you in a frenzy. Wind magic maneuvers your hair in the same direction of all that flying fauna. Then, a fist is in front of your face. 
Your body does not dodge. Rather, it plants itself like stone, sensing all the danger is gone.
You hear all the uprooted discord crashing behind you. Each rock lands like a meteor into the ground, tree branches nosedive down like crashed airplanes, and flowers are shredded apart like brittle paper. It is like when the hatch of a truck’s cargo bed opens on the highway, everything crashing yet the front seat is all calm. All is calm besides the paused fist inches from your nose.
Jade’s leather gloves. The ridges where leather sits to make the indents and folds of his knuckles. You are not graced much time to analyze the sight, to analyze the fist that most certainly would have broken your nose into a bloody pulp.
Deliberately, Jade straightens out. A lot of momentum had been used when rushing towards you, aiming his gloved fist like a tracking missile. Unraveling himself from his crouching position slowly, his dual-colored eyes fix you with an intrigued look. He withdraws his fist to rest by his side. “Hm.”
Now that everything is tranquil, you realize how ragged your breath is as you question back, “Hm?”
“The spell did not have you jump out of the way when I went to attack you. Perhaps it could not differentiate between all the foliage around and a person.” The same hand, that would have swirled up all your nasal tendons and bones into some crude red salad, moves to rest quizzically under his chin. 
Chest pounding, you spit out, “I don’t get it.”
A diagram blooms by the left side of Jade’s head. Despite your words not being an invitation to explain, he does deliberately like you are some foolish student. Like you are someone stupid. He is probably using some elementary magic too, two figures, one red and one blue, appearing from the simple spell. “It is quite simple,” he says slowly.
Asshat, you think.
“Since your botched potion has increased your sense of danger, I decided to test what kind of variables would get a reaction from you.” On the diagram, the red figure has wormlike lines squirming out of its head. 
“I threw a wide variety at you: clumps of dirt, mushrooms, tree branches to whole trees, even the smallest flowers you would dodge.” In the hand of the blue figure, a gold ring has surrounded his fist and crude drawings of all that Jade listed start to throw themselves at the red figure. Wildly panicked, the red figure hops and twirls around to avoid everything. “However,” Jade continues, a frown forming.
“When I added myself to the mix,” the blue figure suddenly appears in front of the red figure, posed like a superhero about to punch through an impenetrable wall, as all the crude drawings of rocks and trees clatter to the diagram’s ground, “I anticipated the usual reaction,” the red figure finds itself in comatose, “the reaction changed though. You didn’t move. In fact, you stood there almost confidently.”
By now, you finally manage to get your breathing under control. With your first solid breath, the diagram of magic starts to flicker into nothing. Crossing vexed arms, you hypothesize aloud, “Perhaps it has already worn off.”
Electricity sparks harshly on your nape; a sudden thought forms. Move your head right now, your bones and flesh say in unison. Involuntary, your neck tilts until your left cheek collides with your shoulder. A whooshing sound darts past your ear. You watch stunned as the bullet-esque rock Jade controls with magic buries itself into a nearby tree. As if it was fired from an assault rifle!
“An incorrect assumption; you are still responding so we’ll rule that thought out.”
The adrenaline that keeps you docile, almost sedated like a syringe-given drug, slowly drains from your body. Your typical attitude resurfaces and – “You –!” A skirmish between shock and anger pulls your face into a constipated look. “You could have killed me! What if that went through my head!”
“Please,” he tuts with pretend exasperation, thoroughly amused at your reaction. “I’m a capable mage who has mastered many tricks. Losing control on something as tiny as a pebble is never going to happen. Besides, I am to not harm you or risk losing my entertainment.”
Like you would believe that. Which you tell him, stomping your foot and pointing an acute nail at him, “Like I have any reason to believe a grand lie like that! I think you’d laugh over my injured body if you got the chance. You know what, Jade? Deal off! I’m not going to be used like a lab rat.”
Having said your piece, you whirl on your feet. There is a lot of debris and a fallen tree or two … no more accurately ripped and thrown tree or two you will need to climb over, but you are going back to Ramshackle. Tucked in a safe bed, letting this potion shed from your system, that is where you are going to. If only your wrist was not grabbed.
Shouldn’t I have yanked my wrist away before he could touch me, you think, glancing up from the point of contact into a pair of deplorable eyes. Who the hell does he think he is, batting you with sharpened paws as you squeak and scurry back and forth in a rodent panic. 
The cat keeps his teeth hidden as he says, “Now, let’s not be so rash. After such a strenuous exercise, the natural course of action is to stop and replenish yourself; not exert yourself more by taking a long, long walk back to the school. I’ll prepare something for us.”
You yank your wrist back. “No way – what you want me to eat those mushrooms; help you identify which one is poisonous or not? You’re sadistic.”
“I have been called worse. However, must I remind you what you stand to lose if you call off our contract?” Your feet pause in their retreat but you dare not turn around. “It would be most unfortunate if this ends so early too.” 
Part of you imagines how his face splits into a grin like those shapeshifters in old horror movies, splitting a jagged line across his features; perhaps he even tilts his head seductively to the side so the sunlight catches his enamels in a perfect way; you know from tone alone his smile must be the cat who got the cream.
Which is why when you turn around, you keep your eyes focused on his knees – trying to avoid looking at the thigh straps of his outfit. You almost feel a bit patronized when Jade says, “If anything happens to be poisonous, I had some Ipecac medicine on me.”
You try your best to not look so sad and slouched when you follow Jade.
From the impromptu clearing where trees were ripped up, or perhaps it was all planned down to last detail even this intentional clearing, Jade unloads his backpack. He sets down this small, portable grill table, unfolding the legs to stand upright. Miniature chairs for two with a pine green and sea green triangle patterns are propped upright. Exceptional care is taken when he removes his blue jacket and white hoodie, leaving himself in a black turtleneck. 
Just how strong is the guy, you wonder, watching him pull out of this out of a seemingly bottomless backpack. It is only when the hoodie is gone that you get the answer. The sharp curvatures of his biceps are visible because the turtleneck is so tight. A hormonal part of you squeaks in fear like a mouse.
You busy yourself with poking the fire Jade has started in the grill’s belly-like canopy. Whatever chunks of logs were thrown at you now stir under your ministries, distracting yourself from the man of the hour. As you prod with your lone stick, Jade starts to prepare your shared meal.
“So, why do you think it happened?”
“Hm?” Jade looks up from the kebab stick in his hand.
“Why do you think I didn’t move when you went to punch me?”
“Ah,” Jade adds another mushroom to his equally odious, fungi version of Vlad Tepes’s impalment displays, “I have several running theories. Though I most strongly attribute it to confusion.”
 “I quite understand what a fist in my face means.”
Jade laughs. “I’m glad but rather I am hypothesizing that it was confusion over me, the flesh I’m in.”
“That makes no sense; I definitely react to people. I reacted to Floyd, and you and him are cut from the cloth.”
“Yes, however there were many variables in the air. As a result, the possibility that the potion saw me as an outlier is not so far-fetched. You were so focused on all the soil and rocks; thus, you ignored me.”
“But the potion reacts to impending danger or whatever is trying to harm me. And I totally see you as a danger.”
“How kind of you.”
“Ugh!” You push the logs more aggressively and fire pops in bigger bursts.
“You reacted to Floyd just fine. When the talking portrait fell, you side-stepped. However, these were all separate instances and not together.”
You consider this, face scrunching. Jade does have brilliant deductive skills; now contemplating it, it is not so far-fetched like he said. Perhaps the potion can only react to living things and similarly only react to non-living things. Yet when Jade grabbed your wrist … you start to ponder on that … but your thoughts disintegrate when Jade starts to fill the grill-plate with his mushroom kebabs. 
“I’m not eating those.” Your face keeps that scrunched up expression. 
“While not equal to red meat, mushrooms still are a good source of protein. Truly, after your little squabble with nature, I think you might find you quite enjoy these.”
“Not a chance in Hell. They don’t look appetizing at all.”
“Have you ever had them before?”
“No but —.”
“How will you know you don’t like them if you never try them?”
How annoying; Jade sounds like every adult you ever met in your life. Really, you are fixated on wearing this scrunched look like a model with the latest trends. Nose wrinkled and brow furrowed, you look down at the arrangement of your presumed next meal. “I’m just a picky eater. You don’t have a sandwich in that bag of yours?”
“Afraid not,” Jade apologizes without an apologetic expression. “I find relying on nature to remind me of home; a hunt is a hunt no matter whether below or above.”
“So you must have some berries on you or something,” you deduct, trying to find yourself an out.
“Afraid not.” Again, this is said very unapologetically. “Though you are most welcome to wrangle yourself a worm out of the ground. Maybe that potion will help you locate a squirrel that you can overpower.”
“You’re lucky you don’t have this potion on you, or else you could sense my foot’s about to hit your crotch.”
“So violent,” Jade smiles behind the fist which curls up to his mouth, “Please, I implore you: try.” Now he is just teasing you instead of being malicious. 
You punch the side of his thigh then go back to observing. There is a decent char on each mushroom now that is more a golden brown than a deep caramel brown. 
“You know, if you brine and deep-fry gray oyster mushrooms, they take on the texture of fried chicken. The taste is similar enough when a simple illusion spell can get the pickiest eater to try them.”
“Don’t even think about it.” Your spine pricks with that familiar, forbidding sense.
“Oh no, you misunderstand.”
Jade says before he starts leaning in to regale you with a story of how he managed to trick Azul their freshmen year to eat mushrooms for five months straight. Azul’s comfort food almost ruined evermore. It is odd to see such a mélange of fondness and sadism on a person’s face but Jade wears it well.
Eventually, you are graced with other food: grapes that Jade has in his backpack. Apparently there are some ducks a little ways down the hiking trail that Jade feeds. They aren’t the type to hibernate or fly south for the winter, the Twisted Wonderland version of mallards. Excited, you implore him to show you them as it is only right after tormenting you so, paying you back for the maltreatment.
He says you need to raise your price for torment or else the entire school will abuse you, but he takes you to the ducks all the same. 
III. The measurement for Eastern bat’s blood was off by 1.5 ounces. 
“Usually when you hold out a hand, there is something in it to offer up,” Jade says analytically. In front of him, your right hand is outstretched.
This world really is out to get you. Not only are you fumbling along in a university that requires a knowledge of foreign, elementary knowledge and has an entrance exam people only pass with Willy-Wonka-ticket luck, but the units of measurements are completely alien to you. Incorrectly, you drained your Eastern bat for half a second too short. Blame can always be pinned on Ace just shrugging when you showed him the beaker; Jade probably will tut and tell you to uphold responsibility. 
So, facing him now empty-handed, you say sullenly, “I messed up a potion.” You try your best to ignore the absolute glee that overtake Jade’s features. “You … The effects when … Well, just take off your glove, touch my hand, and you’ll see.” 
Today is going to suck majorly. Part of you cannot comprehend what odious, monstrous things Jade Leech will do with. Your foresight with him really needs improving; Octavinelle’s vice-housewarden is an enigmatic mystery to you. When flesh mets flesh, the touch of it stings you like a jellyfish. 
His hand is nicely manicured you observe. Just an appropriate enough free edge of the nail to be unamusing yet secretively sharp if need be. His nails won’t cut you up into ribbons without speed and force. It is also a cold hand that feels like resting your cheek on silk when feverish.
Must be because he is cold-blooded and winter is still being stubborn. Taking a deep breath, you look at Jade who is looking intently at you with intrigue. “Was this just an excuse to hold my hand? How quaint, Prefect,” Jade teases when nothing extraordinary eye-catching happens.
Shouldn’t he know to observe the subtleties? You decide to embarrass yourself further by answering, “Just be patient and observe.” Then, hands still stacked upon one another, you turn a bit towards the open hallway you had stopped Jade in.
As the nominated test subject, you had drank the potion when Crewel instructed you to in potionology. Nothing happened and you were given an F. Then, humiliated in front of the class, you realized later that the potion’s intended effects were skewed slightly.
It had taken a lot of trial and error to realize the effects of the potion when first infected. Upset at Ace for not thoroughly reading the measurements, you had taken him by the shoulders and shaked him. In retaliation, he took your cheeks and squished them together to cut off your bemoans. You pinched his cheek in retaliation and then Grim suddenly caterwauled that you two had … disappeared?
Like you said, it took a lot of trial and error. You experimented with Grim, Deuce, and Ace outside the hallway in the main yard. Seeing if it worked skin to fur, seeing if the effects lasted after a quick high five, and figuring out it took a constant touch between two to work but did not work on a third touch.
Now, you have to explain to Jade that both of you are under an invisibility potion that is skewed. So you demonstrate by reaching out and slapping the nearest student across the face. It takes you a while to sum up the courage, the crowd swimming past you. Jade almost grows impatient and tries to retract his hand. Yet at the moment, you remember Schönheit’s face. It feels so satisfactory after being pushed around all the fucking time (especially during VDC) to watch the Pomefiore student stumble in shock. Your hand stings pleasantly.
Jade flinches in surprise and you quickly squeeze his hand tight. Having the contact break after striking a random student is not ideal. 
Background Pomefiore student – you decide his name is C – holds his flushing cheek and whirls around, head on a swivel. He finds no culprit. “Hey! … did you just – Um … Who did,” C’s hair shakes back and forth with his frenzied head turn, “Someone … Someone just hit my beautiful face!”
Behind you, watching C with you, Jade starts to chuckle. The knuckle of his left hand comes up to his lips as he fruitlessly tries to cork laughter. Then, inhibition escaping him, he is suddenly laughing like an amused teen instead of some super villain. His shoulders bounce in time with his mirth.
“I see,” he says a bit breathlessly after his laughing fit. “We are under a potion of invisibility.” His eyes track the Pomefiore student. “A potent one too if that student was not able to even sense us.”
C has already left so you release Jade’s hand slightly, still keeping them sandwiched on one another. “Exactly. Unfortunately, it only works with skin to skin contact. We were supposed to brew something that turned a person invisible but this one requires a second body.” 
For a moment, Jade’s eyes burn with a dangerous intrigue. Dread fills you like a river. Part of you surmises that you will not be able to predict what malicious actions he will have the two of you perform to terrorize the entire school. As if wanting to pry your ribcage open, Jade repeats your explanation to make sure he has all the available information, “So no one can see us or hear us as long as we touch?”
You shrink away at the dangerous lilt in his voice, so Jade takes to interlocking your fingers together. “Yeah, that’s the basics of this potion.” You look at your interlocked fingers as if they are a threading nest of rattlesnakes instead of fingers embracing.
“How quaint. Typically invisibility potions and spells are traceable through the wisps of magic they leave behind. Perhaps that side-effect is neutralized because you are magicless.”
“Maybe … I don’t really know.”
“Hm,” Jade studies your desolate look. “Let us be on our way then.”
“Wait!” You dig your heels into the ground. “Where are we even going?”
“To my dormitory. I need to retrieve some supplies before we utilize this potion’s potential.”
“Wait!” You dig your heels into the ground. “Why can’t we just interlock elbows!”
Finally, that seems to reel Jade out of his steadyfast mission to bring you to some second location. Gold and umber eyes glance down to your intertwined fingers. The bridge of repeating Zs which the heat from you and him met together. His hold is not so outrageously tight where you have no choice to stay.
“It would be most unfortunate if you were to slip and lose your grip. With a tighter hold like this,” he readjusts your contact to passive hand holding, your fingers unlocking from one another, “I’m assured that we will not break contact.”
“I guess that makes sense.” You … mourn? that you no longer get to hold his fingers equally in yours. But you asked for interlocking elbows. You grimace. “... Hey! Why do you say that like I’d trip! You could trip too.”
“With all the trouble you stumble into, it would be imprudent of me to not prepare for you falling in the literal sense. Do not worry though; I will be there to catch you.”
“Who says I want you to catch me? Hell, I think you’d catch me, only to fake out, and then drop me a second later.”
“Fufufu, I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“Ugh, don’t smile like that.”
So, doubly regretful and relieved that your hand-holding formation got a new look, you allow yourself to be dragged off to Octavinelle. This you could probably achieve without hand-holding but you like the secrecy. Plus, you got to flip off Riddle Rosehearts and Leona Kingscholar without repercussions. Eventually, Jade steers you towards the bedrooms located in Octavinelle. Wholly relying on him, you give him a withered olive branch of trust to not torment or abuse you too much. 
“Do you share a room with someone,” you ask as Jade lets go of your hand. The door to his dorm is closed currently, so secrecy lives on. Your eyes are glued to the opposite side that Jade did not walk towards. 
“My brother and I signed up for a double dormitory in middle school.”
“Makes sense,” you say. Sheets scrunched up, shoes and crumbs peppered all over the place, and a horrible sense of cleanliness? You doubt Jade would put up with this from another else but his brother. 
Attention drifting, you turn and watch Jade shift through a thick binder on his desk. He takes it from this apparatus of gold that sits on his neat desk. Teal with golden edges, it is one of three heavy binders. Seriously, the thing is at least a good eight inches thick with papers. “What’s that?”
The smile on Jade’s face tells you that is either going to regale or inform you about something sinister. Each sharp, serrated edge gleams like secrets spoken under candlelight. Though gloveless, his hand still perches under his chin. That tunnel of fangs opens. “Simply some information I have had to collect for Azul. It dates all the way back from our first year, down to Orientation Day. Would you like to see?”
Curiosity kills the cat; too bad you are more like the lab rat. Your eyes drawn down to the now open binder thoroughly intrigued. “Wouldn’t Azul be pissy at you for showing someone such valuable information?”
“Perhaps. But, I thought you disliked each housewarden with a vengeance.” Seeing you are still unconvinced, Jade assuages your worry, “All this information I have collected painstakingly by myself. It is under my jurisdiction who I choose to share it with.”
“And that just happens to be me,” you ask, anticipating some catch. Still, you shuffle over to the desk quite eagerly. “What do you get out of showing me this?”
“Just the pleasure of seeing you squirm.” 
“Ha. Ha.” You laugh dryly. Electing to ignore that little comment, you turn your attention towards the binder’s pages. 
Painstakingly proves to be an appropriate way to describe how detailed the pages are. Reports upon reports of different students stare at you, even with photographic identity in the top corners. It looks more like a report on prisoners than something a student has made. As you flip through, you do spy dates from last year. The margin of notes detail a number of things: past deals made with Azul Ashengrotto, a list of allergies, schedules of classes for each individual student, and a few have their Unique Magics column filled (which you have been told most mages keep those specific spells very private). Some students even have a column labeled Weaknesses on them. 
“God, this is,” you say awestruck. You flip through some more. In alphabetical order, Bucchi, Clover, and Diamond are the ones you recognize first. You wonder if at the beginning there is a section detailing Al-Asim too. The absolute punctiliousness of Jade has some students taking up ten to fifteen pages. “This is –”
“Terrifying?” Jade incorrectly supplies the word.
Attention finally broken from the binder, you look up at Jade who is leaning into you slightly. There is an unreadable iota of something in his eyes. Was he hoping to scare you away? “No, not at all.”
“You’re not off put?”  
“I’m more impressed by it. I mean, I know how Night Raven College is now. Trust me; been pushed around since day one by students and the classes. This … This is what you have to do to survive here.” You overlooked the page you are on, some random Ignihyde student with a D surname. “I don't, however, think sunlight is an allergy.”
“Trust me,” Jade takes your hand, “for students of that dorm, you would be convinced otherwise.”
“So, what are you going to do with this?”
“We are going to be adding to it.”
So, that is how you and Jade spend your day. Trekking through the hallways of Night Raven College and sometimes even walking unnoticed through certain dorms, you both collect information on students. Filling in the blanks in Jade’s sheets and dating new, unexpected information that you happen to stumble upon. 
It is fairly entertaining. Yours and Jade’s preferences towards entertainment are obviously different, but … this is fun. Jade keeps it fun. Initially, you thought intel gathering would be dull and tedious like bird watching, bidding time for a certain student to let something slip. Somehow, you find yourself stifling chuckles that no one could have heard anyways.
This impromptu espionage is much better than how you would have originally spent your afternoon. Leaning into Jade (just to make certain you stay physically touching) you joke about all the embarrassing scenes you two stumble upon. Night Raven College students really are magnets for trouble. You are pleasantly shocked when Jade, smiling with all his predator teeth, suggests you go up to a student and give them a wet-willy. 
You never knew Jade could be this fun to hang out with!
You understand that Twisted Wonderland is an eat or be eaten world. And, as Floyd calls you, you are a shrimp. A shrimp with a drizzle of cajun sauce and seasoned with red pepper flakes to be the most appetizing for: picking on, abusing, and just overall suffering from overblots, potions, and plain old magic. It feels nice to regain a bit of power. To see that even mages have weaknesses is a nice balm to your endless ache. To laugh at their misfortune for once.
For the first time in a while, you do not feel that weight of being a failure. That everlasting pressure of having the lowest marks lightens. With an eel at your side, you find yourself a bit elevated on the food chain with certain privileges. 
Hand in hand with Jade, you two find yourself walking down a corridor. You have taken to holding a few of your own notes in your non-dominant hand. In front of Jade, his binder is hoisted by a levitation spell as his pen works on writing the information he finds useful. 
The binder is under an invisibility spell; so are your notes. However, this kind of magic leaves a trace of smell that high-ranking mages and beastmen are privy to. Magicless as you are, you do not notice a shift of fragrance in the air but you take Jade’s words at their face value. 
His levitating pen has been consistently moving across pages. Even when Jade turns to you, smiling widely and joking about today’s events, his pen keeps moving like a restless shark. So, you are wholeheartedly caught off guard for Jade to suddenly halt in his steps. The pen dots its punctuation then hovers still as death in the air. “Jade?”
“Shush,” Jade snips. You almost have half the mind to remind him that no one can hear you under the botched potion. Instead, you turn your attention towards what has stolen the smile off Jade’s face and grabbed his attention so thoroughly. 
An Octavinelle student happens to be walking out of a classroom. He has blonde hair swept messily like a tumbleweed and that recognizable armband on his biceps. No one you recognize though. Someone Jade must know, given how intensely he is staring. Before you know it, the binder has been magically closed.
“(Name).” You turn when he calls your name. “May I suggest a little detour? Won’t take longer than a minute.”
“Uh yeah,” you nod dumbly. “Sure.”
So, where the Octavinelle student exits, you and Jade enter. No one notices you entering as is the new normal. It seems to be an after school project group. A few students have pushed two laboratory tables together and are in the middle of writing notes. Jade makes a bee-line for the table which worries you – having been content with hiding in backgrounds and shadows with him.
On the table, there is a coffee thermos right where the only empty seat is. None of the mages are alert enough to notice Jade unscrewing the thermos’s top. You are acutely aware of each move Jade makes though. Paralyzed, you observe like a student watching their scientist experiment combusting. It feels very similar to watching a burning train-wreck, enough to make your jaw drop. 
In the pocket of your stunned silence, Jade delicately tucks the black strand of hair behind his ear. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down thrice; a deep phlegmy sound vibrates out his throat. When Jade (out of all the students in Night Raven College!!) hacks up an impressively huge, light yellow spitwad which falls out of his puckered lips into the awaiting cup of coffee. 
When he straightens up to you, black hair split behind his ear and framing his cheek, he smiles with the satisfaction of a job well done. “That is all I needed to do. We may carry on; I believe jurisdiction of our next rendezvous falls upon you.”
You get to pick the next student you two humiliate or gather notes on … you know this, it computes in your brain, but … you gape at Jade with a wide mouth, “Who are you and what the fuck have you done with Jade?”
Because gathering information on students and maliciously keeping them in a binder? You can imagine Jade doing such a thing. Taking the opportunities that this botched potion has given him and causing a bit of mischief with you? Well, that is what you are doing right now so it is very easy to imagine. Jade spitting into a student’s drink as a form of revenge or entertainment? Even after seeing it with your own eyes, you cannot fully believe it.
“I assure you, I have not undergone any body-swapping potion at this time.”
“I just – Dude. Dude,” you huff out a laugh. “That was –” Then, suddenly, you are laughing uncontrollably. It is really an advantage that this potion makes you invisible to the ears too. “Hahahaha!! Oh my – hahaha!!” 
It surprises you a second time when Jade joins in. “Fufufu … heh … Hahahaha!”
In the afterglow of shared laughter, you and Jade look at each other. His eyes are sharp like his teeth. There is a sensation in the air; you can only akin it to walking on a balancing beam and being brave enough to walk across the soft foam for the first time. Like you are trying something new, here with him.
“I just can’t believe you would do that. You of all people.” Your eyes linger hard on the thermos.
“I do admit it is a bit juvenile of me. Typically, Floyd spits in drinks while I add a certain fungal toxin. This was a bit more personal.”
“Remind me to never get on your bad side.” Yet, you have a smile glued to your face. As does Jade. The hand holding does not help with your growing fluster.
Yet before Jade can respond, the door to the classroom is thrown open. The Octavinelle student comes stomping in with a vengeance. Irritation on his face and phone in his hand, he howls, “Fuck Azul Ashengrotto!” You happen to share this sentiment wholeheartedly. “I swear, I cannot even piss without him needing to know! Why did I get saddled with the worst housewarden!”
One of Azul’s contractees, you think just as a student from the table pipes up, “What does he need from you this time?”
“Ugh,” the Octavinelle student groans. He sits down in the empty stoll with a thud; his arm comes up to rest on the table but he does not grab the thermos. “‘Parrantely, our vice called out for his night shift. So, Azul has to schedule three guys just to replace one.”
The Octavinelle student takes a big sip of his coffee. You watch the smile grow on Jade’s face, teeth gleaming. As he sets down the thermos, he continues complaining, “It’s so unfair. I have to drop everything I’m doing just at the drop of a hat for this bitching guy, or else ‘there will be repercussions for breaking contract terms’. What bullshit.”
“Didn’t you break your terms last week,” a Heartslabyul student questions.
“Yeah, when you skipped your shift to go Foothill Town for the weekend,” another Octavinelle student, different from the blonde, pipes in.
“Yeah, I was supposed to taste-test some potion for our vice. Told them I had a family birthday to go to; he won’t find out.” 
“I already found out,” Jade leans in and whispers, his breath warm on your neck. He gives a discreet little point towards the thermos. You stifle a chuckle behind your papers. As Jade pulls away, he looks awfully pleased.
“I mean,” the blonde Octavinelle student continues, “the guy’s a total creep! Who knows what would have happened if I drank that potion; would’ve seen me walking around with a third arm or gills. My housewarden and vice are two peas in a pod: complete and utter monsters.”
Laughter blooms up from the table in agreement. Features wilting, you cannot find yourself agreeing with the student’s sentiment. Sure, you can see that description fitting Ashengrotto for how utterly horrendous and repulsive he was during his overblot. But Jade? Well, he is not innocent-incarnate but a monster is a bit much.
If Jade overblotted, would I share that sentiment? No, I don’t think so. You do not get to entertain that thought further as the Octavinelle student, who is not blonde, pipes up in agreement, “At least Azul has some humanity about him … Jade?” The student fakes a shiver. “Wouldn’t be caught dead alone with him.”
Eagerly finishing off his second sip, the blonde Octavinelle student jumps to add his input, “Have you seen how he looks smiling – it’s like a rabid animal trying to appear less rabid. If you’re going to undergo a transformation potion, at least have it do the job.”
“He’s only got himself to blame for having zero friends, looking like that.”
The hand in yours suddenly squeezes at those words. Concerned, your gaze flickers up to Jade. For a foolish second, you really are expecting his face to pull into that familiar grin of shark daggers. Prideful that his reputation is kept so neatly and undamaged. 
A scowl is not what you are expecting to see. His nose and upper lip twitch like he is pushing whatever is bubbling to the surface of him back down. Just as quickly as the twitch happens, it goes. A firm lid now placed over Jade’s expression, he turns demure to you and politely says, “Shall we take our leave?”
You can only nod along, confused over the whole ordeal. 
You and Jade have this thing going on – no, it is not the potion contract; it is actually something that happens specifically outside of contractual hours. You both have started to smile at one another when spying the other walking down the hallway. To be honest, Jade smiles, you mostly stick your tongue out at him or throw him a peace sign depending on your mood. 
The thing is Jade’s grin has always been big, revealing all his predatory teeth and causing wrinkles to form under his eyes. The next time around, passing by one another near the gymnasium, Jade smiles. He smiles tight-lipped, some subdued version of himself. 
IV. No mistakes were in the mixture, but it had been splashed on you all the same.
“Grim!” You caterwaul as two bottles of salamander eyes fall into your cauldron. 
Ace has been teasing Grim for the better half of this assignment. Something about your low stash of food or something else because really, anything about you two is fuel for teasing. The verbal sparring mattered little to you as you were managing to get this potion right for once! At least, it mattered little until Grim decided to hop over the desk attached to your cauldron. 
Down, those two bottles drop into the cauldron with an expressive ploop!; liquid hits you in the backsplash. All you can think about at that moment is what you are going to owe Professor Crewel. You refuse to be scavenging the mountains for salamanders to pluck the eyes out of. 
Furious and with canary yellow droplets rolling down your face, you reach across the top of the cauldron. Your fingers hook into Grim’s collar, pulling him towards you as the fireball he was going to strike Ace with evaporates on his tongue.
“Myah!”
“You little –”
“What’s your problem, Henchman!”
“My problem is that you just messed up the first potion we’ve ever done correctly in this class! How could you be so careless! Do you have any idea what it took to pull my weight and make that without a mistake!”
When Grim refutes that Ace called his legs stubby, you swear you could almost combust into flames like the King of the Underworld. It would be a fitting reaction. Yet, all you can do is shout, “Your legs are stubby! You’re short! God, your height being teased should not cause you ruin a perfectly made potion. We are a team; this comes out of your grade too you know! Seriously Grim, I can’t –” And then, you cannot even shout anymore in reaction. 
I can’t breathe, you realize with wide-eyed panic just before your legs give out beneath you. “Henchman!” You manage to safely deposit Grim on the ground in midst of your rough fall. However, it does not curb your impending face-plant away. 
Why can’t I breathe, you think. You try desperately to will yourself to breathe automatically through your nose or mouth, eagerly willing to take up the torch for your stressed brain. Nothing. Instinctively, your hand flies up to your throat. Under your fingertips, serrations that open in twelve inch wide cuts brush against your hand. You feel rubbery bristles and sleek skin not wet from blood. 
Huh? You do not get to ask about it as a spell suddenly lifts you off the ground. Second later, you are dumped inside an empty cauldron Deuce has summoned in the midst of discord and you are dampened by the raincloud Professor Crewel has summoned over your head. 
Fresh air, you think while breathing in water. You are knocked out momentary reprise, your new found respect for life after being able to breathe again, when voices suddenly start shouting. 
“(Name), are you okay!”
Over your right shoulder, your vision is swallowed by Deuce’s frantic expression. Half of his goggles are pulled up to his forehead but the left side still suctions to his skin, extending up his eyebrow unnaturally. Quizzically frantic, his eyes race over your body. 
“I’m fine now, I think –”
“Bad dogs!” You do not finish the sentence. Professor Crewel uses some sort of spell and you watch vindictive as Ace’s and Grim’s heads are pulled together by harsh magnetism. They fall to a heap like knocked over bowling pins. “This is a laboratory! Not a playground! To be standing on desks like that is completely unacceptable!”
“Grim was the one jumping around; he ended up knocking over everything!” Ace jabs a finger in the direction of the dizzy dire-beast. 
“He called me stubby! No one insults the Great Grim and gets away with it!” Grim aims a tiny, blue flame in the direction of the Heartslabyul student. A tiny one is only a forewarning of more to follow. 
“Enough the both of you! Your absolute foolishness lead to —
“Ow,” you cry, pained. You had only meant to join in on scolding Grim, not interrupt in such a piercing fashion. Wincing, your dominant hand flies up to your mouth. Strings of metallic red connect your finger to your lip, and you wonder what you are going to do now as the rain washes away the red. 
Because that potion you were brewing correctly … “You dogs and your insolence led to one of your classmates becoming a merfolk.” … was a mermaid transportation potion. 
Now that panic has dwindled away, you suppose it makes sense your momentary lapse of breath. The rain cloud slowly dissipates over your head. With the water in the cauldron reaching the top, there is no more reason to keep it raining indoors. You take the opportunity to survey the damage of another disastrous potion accident. 
The complexion of your tail is a mixture of olive gray with yellow undertones. Truly, you are not sure how to describe the texture of the canvas besides resembling a stingray or perhaps a shark. Your tail breaks off into the shape of an uneven boomerang. Against the rough cauldron’s innards, you definitely feel a dorsal fin scraping on the cast iron.
The crowns of your teeth have elongated into sharp points which is why you keep your jaw hanging open. You are not going to risk biting off your tongue, unaware that magic could repair it. 
“Henchman, you have teeth just like me!”
Oh, you love Grim dearly like an annoying little brother, but you yearn for nothing more than to bite him hard. Painful enough where he learns his lesson. Your lips pull up into a smile when Professor Crewel hits him on the head. Then, you drop your open maw into a crude caricature of a frown when Crewel turns around. You don’t want him to misread your smile; you promise you are not finding this situation funny.
Because, to you, this is the worst. Your legs – your tail – no, your legs feel disgusting. So conditioned to have two separate legs, the innard combination of muscles and bones melting together causes a shiver up your back. Absent of piggy-toes to wiggle, lower limb bones suddenly hollowed out of you, fat and epidermis shifted into something supernatural. Get me out of this body! 
Your pyramiding nausea must be shown on your expression; Professor Crewel gives you a sympathetic look for someone you thought so apathetic. He surveys you before saying, “It will take until after school for me to have the reversal potion brewed. Even then, I cannot keep you in the laboratory.
“Usually, I would pin the responsibility on you two mutts,” he sends a glare at Grim and Ace, “but then I would risk endangering the Prefect further. Perfect.” You grow more very nauseous because you know where this is going. “I think it would be ideal if you stay in Octavinelle for the time being.”
You must be an edible species of mermaid right? Maybe, with enough begging, you could convince Deuce or Grim to set a fire underneath the impromptu aquarium tank you sit in.  “Ashengrotto can escort you. My 2C class is next period.”
You can’t even drown yourself; a whimper breaks your lips. In a kiss that is more a punch, your forehead and the side of the cauldron met like two angry lovers. “Just cook and eat me,” you moan sullenly.
“Yay, sushi!”
“Grim!!” Deuce shouts, mortified. 
When Azul does come in next period, five minutes before the bell like the attentive student he is, you glare at him over the side of your cauldron. It takes all but seconds before his stunned expression to melt into that sinister, scheming smirk. He really is such a snake even after his overblot. You would normally say this little favor is going to cost you an arm and a leg, but you already lost two legs. No way are you parting with an arm. 
“My, it seems you have gotten yourself into an unfortunately tight spot, Prefect. I’ll be happy to write up a contract that alleviates you from this certain predicament.”
Now, it takes luck and hard coordination, but you manage to splash Azul just as he finishes his sentence. It feels like stretching out a knot in your leg when you use your tail to propel water out of your cauldron. 
As Azul simmers in shock, you snicker in satisfaction. Serves him right. 
Soon enough, you are brought to Octavinelle. Hypothetically, it would take Azul two days to finish a reversal potion, which is better than most students who would need five days. But since Professor Crewel is working to ‘alleviate you from this certain predicament’, there is no need for a contract. Thus, the housewarden carries your cauldron through the school with magic.
There are so many questions running through your head that you and Azul remain silent during the trip to the Hall of Mirrors. Are you going to get dumped outside in Octavinelle’s waters to fend for yourself, or are you going to be thrown into the pool left to starve? What can you even eat in this form? It is already so hard to talk with the fangs in your mouth. Blood stains your lips like lipstick. You are deathly afraid of biting off your own tongue.
This is the worst potion accident I’ve ever had, you sulk, chin on the edge of stone. You want an easy life like everyone else but destiny has deemed you a magnetic force for chaos. Like there is something sweet in your blood or on your skin that attracts misfortune to you.
No one else in your first year class had experienced either a multitude of potion mishaps or a multitude of overblotted students. There has to be something in you that causes misfortune to suction to you with eagerness.
It is only when Azul speaks, carrying you through the Hall of Mirrors, do you stop your petite mopeness session. “Now, Octavinelle’s pool is never emptied so it will take some time to arrange it to be closed for the day. As a housewarden, it won’t take more than an hour. In the meantime, you are going to have to swim outside the dorm.”
“You can’t just keep me in the cauldron? I figured you shove me in some broom closet.”
“Now, do you really think I'm so cruel?”
“I do.” 
A scowl moves Azul’s lips. As he carts your cauldron through the mirror, violet sparks shimmering on the bottom like bugs drawn to a bowl of overripe fruit, he smiles cruelly, “Well, I’m glad to prove your expectations right.” Then, without any care, he vindictively dumps you out of the cauldron and into the mirror’s tensile surface.
“Asshat!” You manage to shout breathlessly before you find yourself on the other side of Octavinelle’s mirror.  
The pressure of water is unfortunately reliving to the pressure of suffocation on your chest. In the cauldron, you felt mildly asthmatic. It is certainly easier to breathe now. Which you do, you take a deep breath and then into nebulous waters, you shout out your frustrations. “ugh … UUUGH! AAAAAGH!!” Left alone in the blue, you sink down and down like a stone with each of your thoughts.
Hollowed out the bones in your lower limbs and trapped in skin made of dermal denticles, you eventually force yourself to learn to walk. 
It takes a great deal of try and fail, rinsing and repeating the process. Stubbornly, you refuse to just lie at the bottom of Octavinelle’s water to die and join a whale’s skeleton … or just wait until Azul comes to retrieve you, fake sympathy on his tongue … the mere notion of the latter causes your teeth to grind.
Thankfully, the waters are empty of any merfolk. A dagger named Embarrassment would have punctured your heart if otherwise. Having your multiple face-plants into sand and multiple collisions with reefs being seen by a single spectator makes you grimace. Eventually, you learn to use the yellowish-gray tail with the dexterity found in a squirmy newborn. 
An average person would have taken longer than an hour to learn the motions. You take to it like a duck to water. Impressively, it takes you only twenty-five minutes. Of course, you are arrogant of this fact. Limbs bruised from the rocks you have crashed into and mouth salted with the sand you accidentally swallowed, you sulk. Terribly miserable at the bottom of the sea, thinking yourself the biggest fool in Twisted Wonderland, you sulk at your falsely perceived failures but keep at it.
Moving with a tail mimics the sensation of sprinting. It is a constant motion that you must fall into smoothly. Once you start, you cannot risk a slight falter because that will send you barreling back to the ground. You must be confident about your motions. 
Tail oscillating back and forth, you push yourself off the seafloor for hopefully your last time. You wade gently off the seafloor like a bumpy airplane hopping off the runway. And then finally something happens in your abdomen and in your legs. Finally! Finally, you manage to find your rhythm. 
As if pulled there by an invisible thread, you find yourself swimming over to Octavinelle. Unconfident about your agility, you keep to the eastern side of the dorm, away from the towering spirals that look like a homunculus birth between a crab hand and an octopus, and you keep yourself away from the main building, wary of what could happen if you interact with other students. 
You wrap yourself around stone structures shaped like pointy fish-heads. Glide up the natural pattern of stairs made of the seabed floor, testing your ability to elevate yourself. Brush your hand briefly over a certain gray stone shaped oddly like a circle head with two circular ears, reminding yourself of that mouse creature you saw in the mirror days ago. Then, you turn yourself on your spine, belly up, and propel yourself towards the tunnel in Octavinelle with experience that grows second by second. 
The ‘skies’ are filled with starfishes suctioned to the edges of purple-gray arching stone, a school of moonfish with shining silver bodies with the edges of their fins kissed by orange sunshine hues, and moon jellyfish that move hypnotically like a multiple aliens made of clouds of milky-coral intestines. How phantasmal and pretty.  
Despite being in another world full of alien creatures like beastmen, mermen, and fae, at least the ocean has not changed that much. Now, impromptu and unplanned, you are thrown into the chance of a lifetime. Despite yourself, a smile grows on your lips.
Flipping yourself belly down, you glide over the tunnel system. It is a sectional hallway of Octavinelle that goes from the main building towards the dormitories. The unique faucet about the long hallway with the overarching ceiling is that the ceiling is made of glass. 
You meant to swim over the glass structure but you stutter in your motions when you make eye contact with a certain someone walking down the hallway. Even when separated by a barrier, that mountain landscape of smiling fangs manages to send a shiver down your spine. Why is that asshat’s eyes half-lidded like that?
Regaining yourself, you swim fast inches above the tunnel and ignore Jade Leech who watches you fondly in Octavinelle’s aquarium hallway, a few school books in his hand. You come to regret it later because:
“You broke contract terms earlier,” is the first blasted thing out of Jade’s mouth when he enters Octavinelle’s pools just as Azul exits.
“How so,” you grumble. After his classes, Azul retrieved you from Octavinelle waters with all the grace of a dog owner picking up their mutt from a park after hours of neglect. He leashed you with a spell and dropped you into Octavinelle pools. Now, lying on your back, you glide aimlessly in water like an adrift pool-float.
Didn’t matter where you were though as you knew Jade would come find you. But – “Earlier, when we made eye contact through the tunnel, you swam away like a shy clownfish.” – seems you forgot how rigorous people in this specific dorm were about terms.
Mouth opening to defend yourself (more correctly, lie and say you did not know how to stop), a certain tantalizing scent catches your attention. Flipping yourself upright, you glance towards the edge of the pool when Jade stands on the steps, ankle deep with his pants rolled up and footwear off. In his hands are two steaming plates.
“Oh thank God, I’m starved,” you say, swimming over.
Yet Jade chuckles, “Food is for well-behaved fish who uphold their contract terms.”
“Oh God,” you groan. “Listen, I didn’t know how to stop.” A lie but you tack on, “And it’s not my fault I wasn’t with you. Azul dumped me into Octavinelle. He pushed me in there like a bird kicking her chick out of the nest.” 
“Still, I would have come to retrieve you had you not darted away. Did I perhaps frighten you?” 
“Jade, just tell me what you want to hear and I’ll say it. I’m starving.” You had not realized how famished your new body had grown in such a short time. Swimming is a rigorous exercise but you never thought it would hollow out your stomach so thoroughly. 
“My, what an opportunistic sentence. Anything I want you to say … just like that? Sevens, which of the hundred self-deprecating phrases could I move your tongue into?” The smile he aims at you is a perfect mimic of some villainous character reveling in the downfall of a hero.
“You’re a pain in my ass, Jade. You know that? A real thorn in my side.” 
“A leech on your ankle?”
“At least you’re self-aware.”
“Of course. Any self-respecting person should be able scrutinize and recognize who they are in the eyes of those on the outside looking in.”
“Then you must know I see you as a real asshole for not feeding me.” 
You hold up your hand to accept the plate. At the end of this verbal maze, you will be rewarded with food. Like a mouse who is eventually given cheese after all those twists and turns. However, you do not expect his next sentence:
“You’re hurt.”
Are those the words you must repeat? “I’m hurt?”
Jade shakes his head at you. You watch in surprise as he sits on the edge of the pool, leaving his ankles in the water. You have never seen him look so casual in his dorm uniform. Sure everything is tightly buttoned and hastened in place, yet there is an air of permissiveness around him. “Your arm,” Jade clears up confusion as he sets the plates down. 
When you check the appendage, Jade’s words are proven right. A mark that is sure to turn violet and black runs across your forearm. Must have happened when you were trying to learn how to swim, bumped too hard into a coral reef perhaps. 
“Oh damn, that is going to ache tomorrow.” Hissing through your fangs, “Shit.”
Jade hums in consideration. “Give it here.” He gestures to your arm.
After a moment’s hesitation, you extend your forearm so it rests in Jade’s hands. You expect him to dig his nails into the area, to test what will make you wince. However, he just carefully maneuvers it in his hold, mapping out the bruise’s perimeter with his eyes. Then, he unclips his magic pen from his breast-pocket. 
You rest your head on your shoulder, peering up at Jade with tired eyes. Violet light orchestrates a ballet across his feature, dipping and pirouetting on each sharp curve. It reminds you of how he fought in the violet drenched nightmare of Schoenheit’s overblot to keep you safe.
As the perimeter of your bruise shrinks, you realize something and have to force down a twitch.
Oh.
Oh!
Juxtaposingly, it seems so natural and it seems so artificial. You have feelings for Jade Leech?
‘Please, be serious’ you want to chastise yourself. However, it feels like something that has grown inside your heart naturally. However, it too feels like it was something born of blasphemous methods that would offend Mother Nature. Perhaps that is your own hesitation to admit to having a crush.
Bruise completely gone, lavender light falls away from his face. “There we go.” He looks up from your arm to your body. Seemingly, his eyes flirt about to assess whether there is any more mark from your old, faithful friend Danger you have inevitably fallen into. Does he think you are a failure? The thought makes you sick. You don’t want Jade to ever think that about you.
As you take back your arm from his lap, curling and twisting it experimentally, you thank him.  He responds,“It’s no trouble at all. I uphold contract terms … unlike others.” 
“Oh, climb off it.” 
When you enunciate your sharp ‘t’, Jade’s eyes are magnetized down to the rows of razor daggers in your mouth. If Jade Leech could look stunned, you think this is the closest you have ever seen him do so. A subdued version of the facial expression. 
“What,” you ask. “Something on my face?”
“No, no,” Jade smiles like it is nothing. He picks up the plates previously set aside. He balances each like a veteran waiter, showing you the beef wellington he has cooked for you two. It is paired with a brown sauce underneath the pastry. “I’m glad to see that my preparation was prudent to all the changes the potion did.”
“You aren’t going to change into your mer-form? Show me how to eat and swim correctly so I don’t injure myself?” 
“Now, I don’t want to be too honest with you.” You simply swipe your plate, because God, an honest Jade Leech is scarier than a dishonest one. 
When you head out of Ramshackle the next day, waving goodbye to the ghosts and dire-beast on your shoulder, you come to an unexpected stop on the rickety porch. “Huh, what’s that,” Grim asks as you lean down to pick up the two mysterious jars. Underneath glass, a hundred or so slimy salamander eyes peer at you. And you suddenly recall what you had bemoaned to Jade, Crewel’s going to have my head if I can’t replace his supplies.
Around the neck of each jar, a periwinkle bow has been tied with expert care. You know which dorm that color signifies. For the first in a long time, you walk the hour trek from Ramshackle to Night Raven College feeling light like a feather.
V. Lilies were selected and arrogantly substituted for asphodels.
“So, how did this come to be again,” Jade asks … just for clarification.
Even though it was Grim who grabbed the lilies, it can still be attributed as your fault. If you were in the right mind to speak, you would blame yourself. For one, you used poor judgment to trust Grim would be able to handle selecting ingredients. Secondly, when handed the lilies, you did not check if they were the shape of asphodels. In your vocal absence, Grim clarifies to Jade, “My Henchman messed up the potion!”
“You little weasel!” Adding injury to his insult, Ace whacks the back of Grim’s head. 
“Ow!” Grim cries on Deuce’s shoulder. “Well, they did! Myah, it's not my fault they put it in.”
“You’re the one that picked out the wrong flower, so you’re ultimately at fault,” Deuce sighs. Turning back to Jade, the freshman laments, “Though, we’re not quite sure how one little flower could cause such a big difference. Or when it’s going to wear off.”
With the last sentence said, Deuce sends a wary glance to you. All of them know about the contractual agreement between you and Jade. Obligations stitch you two side by side until the effects of a botched potion wears off. However, he thinks this time should be the expectation. 
“I hope it never wears off,” Ace snickers, undeterred by the glare of Deuce and Jade. 
Originally, none of them knew if the potion was working wrongly, which is quite ironic. Working wrongly … ah, what an odd way to put it. But, when Professor Crewel dipped the rectangular slip of perfume-testing paper into your cauldron and it came back a neon pink instead of a dull orange, you knew you had to make the venture to find Jade Leech. 
Even if I breathed in just a sniff, I have to do this, you griped when your trio asked why you were even heading in the direction of Octavinelle. Sadly, it is an obligation. Your contract has you and Jade spending a large amount of time together.
Out of all the mishaps, this one crept on you silently. Without any forewarning and without any subtlety. One minute you were standing idle by the Mostro Lounge’s entrance and then, Deuce cringes at the memory, you were like this.
“Jade, can I have another kiss pleaseee?” 
Clinging like an eel with captured prey, your arms are wrapped tightly around Jade’s waistline. He cannot seem to pry you off. In honey-laced tones, you bat your eyelashes prettily up at Jade as you ask for your second kiss from him. Hopefully this one will be reciprocated. 
As if the entrance to Mostro Lounge was enchanted with a changeling circle, something shifted in you when you saw Jade. In the crowd of waiters and customers, you found Jade working. Your pupils dilated; your breath hitched; Cupid’s arrow pierced into the cotton-candy red of your beating heart. At the sound of a flustered breath, the trio only got a second to view your visage – a magical cocoon of lovestruck emotions wrapping around you – before you run up to Jade, calling his name in phony passion. 
The first kiss you stole, lip to lip, when you two collided in greeting. The look of disbelief on Jade’s face had Ace sputtering with laughter. 
Deuce was quick to explain everything before Jade … Well, it was difficult for Deuce to tell what Jade was even thinking, or perhaps plotting.  He cannot stomach hypothesizing upon the torment you might be subjected to because of how you are acting. Would Jade feed you poisonous mushrooms for all your non-consensual actions – non-consensual on both parts, you hardly seem right in the head. 
For your sake, Deuce hopes Jade goes easy on you. Speaking of the eel-mer.
In response to your amorous inquiry, Jade tilts his head to look down at you. His eyes are unreadable shields. Though his voice has a tint of minacious teasing in it, “Perhaps we should find another activity for you to take part in? Dishwashing perhaps?”
Grim makes a whine at the memory of dishwashing months ago. Deuce breathes a sigh of relief, dish-washing duty is a low price to pay. It seems Jade might actually be merciful to your unfortunate soul.
“I’d get down and dirty with you in some bubbles.”
Deuce’s face pinches in worry. 
“HAHAHA!” Ace full blown cackles, holding onto his stomach. “Oh, this is great!” He exclaims, sneering at both you and Jade. 
That passive mien on Jade’s face has not even dimmed once at your prevetish intents. Polite disinterest is a mask welded firm to his visage. “My, what a crude innuendo. I must inform you, Mostro Lounge is rather firm on its policy on keeping professional conduct.”
You frown at this sentiment. One could even call you distraught over it. But then something sparks in your lovestruck brain, and you lean harder into Jade like you are trying to fuse yourself to his skin. “Well, is there anything else in Mostro Lounge that is fir–umph?” Jade’s hand covers your mouth swiftly. 
You waste no time, pressing a kiss to the glove and staring up at him with half-lidded eyes.
Composure not slipping for a second, Jade turns to your friends who look on with expressions ranging from horrified to amused. Ah, Isn’t amusement most gratifying when found in the horrifying … Jade thinks so wholeheartedly. With a slight incline of his head, the vice-housewarden says, “As per our contract, I’ll take (Name) for the time being. You three are welcome to stay and enjoy our new spring menu.”
Your friends give various grumbles as Jade guides you away. Deuce even yells out a quick, stay safe, which makes sense when one is in the presence of a predator. However, your entire body is lax and void of tension. You follow after Jade, looking like you would follow him to the ends of the earth.
It is world-altering, tray slipping and dropping glassware type of world-altering, accidentally burning their hand on a hotplate type of world-altering to the staff of Mostro Lounge to see their second boss (and to some their own vice-housewarden) walk arm in arm with the Ramshackle Prefect. The rumors will infect the school for at least a whole semester. Yet despite the obvious euphoria flowing out of the Ramshackle Prefect as they cuddle up to Jade Leech, the side profile of the eel-mer is frozen in polite apathy. 
His cheeks aren’t even pink when the Prefect presses close to him. And you are attractive to have a few admirers who would enjoy having you cling to them. Courteous, Jade opens the VIP room up to you, but you drag him in, refusing to be separated from him for a moment.
When the door clicks shut – thankfully Azul happens to be either in the kitchen or on the floor – with you pulling Jade’s hand and stumbling backwards towards the couch like it is a bed and you two are on your honeymoon, Jade’s stone composure fractures. It all comes spilling from him like an ocean free from the hold of a petite water bottle.
“Fu-Fuck (Name),” his voice trembles against his unoccupied gloved hand. Jade’s skin hue rockets from pale to pink to a red that makes him seem like he is overheating. Resolve wavering, Jade allows himself to be magnetized down to the couch. 
In the sweetest voice that would put sirens to shame, you croon in his ear, “Jade; my lovely Jade; my strong Jade; mine, mine, mine.” You start to press deliberate kisses over his neck, seeing how much resistance his bowtie is going to give to your ministrations.
Jade is on his knees for you. His hands may be planted by your shoulders, but his lower body is completely off the couch. Amorously, you wrap legs around a slim waist and wrap hands around a forest of teal locks. He won’t kiss you back; he cannot find it in himself to, not when you are under a potion’s effect at least. However, he moves his head to an angle like a pleased cat to allow the kisses you litter on his neck.
“Take this off. Jade, off.” Vexful, your fingers pry at the bowtie fastened properly to his uniform. The white article is unapologetically firm against your inexperienced tugs. “Please.”
Something alive wiggles in Jade’s stomach like a spiral. Air crackles with a snap of fabric; the speed Jade rips his necktie off is intense. He undoes his silly bowtie with the eagerness of a highly anticipated Christmas present – good; because, under this potion, you are so eager too.
“(Name), you’re so …” He stops himself, not knowing whether you will remember this later.
As kisses burn his skin, Jade hopes he never scares you off. During Idia’s overblot, he had been so selective with how he fought to protect you – not wanting to mimic the ugliness you say you found in people who overblot. You, with a magic broom in hand, had asked him to abandon his post as vice-housewarden to help you find Grim; he would have abandoned his entire education for you like how the Mermaid Princess abandoned the sea all those centuries ago.
That train of thought is so dangerous though.Your friendship is so incredibly dear to him. Jade wants to take it slow. 
Human courtship works in such mysterious ways that he sometimes feels like a failure at the methods and execution on his end of things. If he were to be truthful with you, pull back the floorboards of his facade to show you the concert of lovebugs thudding in their moshpit underneath … ah, he hopes so passionately to never scare you off. 
As two of his dress-shirt buttons are undone, Jade leans his cheek against your temple. Like an efficient undertaker, he will bury himself under pleasantries to make himself appear more human and subdued. Even in dishonesty, he will love you honestly.
Your teeth are dull. His are not.
Said teeth burrow themselves into the juncture of his neck. Groaning, Jade is ashamed to feel his toes curl in his socks at the bite of such a prey. Sevens, he is stronger than this. 
With spit and teeth, you start to suckle and break the blood vessels in his skin like they are merely thin glow-sticks. He feels each thread of his self control break with them. Serrations from his clenching hands are made in the VIP couch as Jade lets you paint a hickey on his neck. 
The violet in his future bruise is sure to make a perfect matching garish for the color scheme of his dorm uniform.
You take exceptional care to hold your protector gently in your hands as you bite like a rabid animal. Like squishy dough, his skin rounds itself up and into the empty space of your mouth. It is a warm sensation that causes even his knuckles to tingle with the blooming heat.
“(Name)?” Your name falls husky out of Jade’s mouth. He did not think his vocal cords could wither to something unprofessional. “Uuh,” he moans from the sarcophagi of his throat when you chomp harder. 
“So beautiful, so gorgeous, so … so Jade.” You punctuate these sentiments with pecks that move up to his cheek. When you say the last one, you cradle the left side of his face in your hand. You press your lips to his cheek as if trying to fuse with him. 
He kills sentimentality from his voice thoroughly, but Jade has to know, “So Jade? Is that good?”
“It’s perfect.”
Jade drops you off at Ramshackle when your body slips into sleep. When he arrives at his dorm, he lands hard, supine on his mattress. Floyd glances up from his phone, not used to seeing Jade lie in bed so haphazardous without doing his whole routine. Lying in bed, the eel-mer takes his finger to press on the growing bruise on his neck – your own personal attack on him.
“I just had the best day of my life,” Jade muses. A smile wide and wicked blooms on his face as he looks at the ceiling. It only disappears when a pillow is thrown at him.
Reversed I. Jade rarely makes mistakes, but he had forgotten which came first: the live, squawking chicken begging to not be killed or the still, docile egg which could not voice the same plea, begging to not be killed.
Walking out Crewel’s class, having just aced a potion with your lab partner Ace (no pun intended), your eyes expand in surprise when you see one of Octavinelle twins stalking on the opposite wall. Grim bristles in your arm cradle and Adeuce falls silent in their conversation. Tension paints the air. Especially when said twin says:
“Ya breakin’ contract terms, Shrimpy. Can’t believe I gotta do the chase-and-catch act with ya.” His bored look morphs into a smile. “Though Shrimpy’s probably super fun to squeeze. Too bad Jade won’t let me.” His look morphs right back into boredom at his last sentence.
Whiplashed by his chameleon-ing expressions, you stand there numb. His words also make you pause because as far as you are concerned, you are not breaking any terms. The potion you just made went off without a hitch. Bsides, if it went wrong, you would be heading to Octavinelle, obedient to your terms. 
“How am I breaking the terms? I haven’t messed up a potion since …” Since that time you were acting like a spellbound lovestruck fool, “since you know.” 
You trail off. All you know about the last incident comes secondhand from your trio, having woken up in Ramshackle the day after with no recollection of the events. Stricken by only the prologue of a story you do not know, you went about classes in Night Raven College with a lingering sense of uneasiness for two weeks. You think to yourself, Jade must be livid, and start anticipating his revenge at any time. Yet, in the interlude of this horridly put together fantasy comedy that you have been thrown into, teal hair and sharp teeth never make an appearance until now. 
… And the appearance is flipped like a mirror and yawning out, “Uuuh, yeah ya did. If one of you messes up a potion, you guys gotta be with each other.”
“But I haven’t messed up –”
Grim leaps out of your arms when you are grabbed but you do not have the luck to make your own escape. 
Floyd ignores your words. “So, ya get to come with me, lil Shrimp,” he exclaims with a happy lilt, pulling you hard by the forearm. How the hell does a guy of his stature have the strength of a bodybuilder! “Tired of Jade being all boring and not comin’ to find ya. So, I thought I helped!”
“Oh, no, Floyd, that’s not our contract terms. The terms are –” You are cut off abruptly.
“Ya callin’ me a liar, Shrimpy?”
“EEK!”
The face in front of you – that leans down and covers you in a heavy shadow – is reserved for breakers of Azul’s contracts and those who have messed up majorly in Floyd’s book. Unbeknownst to you, you are the breaker of Jade’s sensitive little heart – he has been bemoaning how he probably scared you away two weeks ago, much to Floyd’s annoyance – and that means you have majorly, in behemoth portions, messed up in Floyd's book. 
Staring into those pin-prick eyes and open mouth leer, you almost feel your bladder go slack in fear. With how nice, although a bit devious, Jade expressions have been around you, seeing this twisted version of those features makes you shudder. Don’t forget how vulnerable you are, it warns.
Luckily, there are three glorious idiots in this world that love you dearly. So, when one of them goes, “Hey, my Henchman ain’t no liar, liar!” you relax just a bit. Though Grim’s bravery quickly vanishes with a squealing EEK! when Floyd looks over your shoulder to make eye contact with him.
“Now, you’re someone I can squeeze, Sealy. Don’t get so noisy, ‘kay?” Those hostile eyes land back on you. “Don’t make me drag ya, ‘kay?”
“Hey, you can’t just talk to them like that!” Deuce defends.
“Ya tellin’ me what to do, Little Mackerel? I can talk to anyone however I want.”
“No, you can’t –”
“You can talk to me like that!”
Everyone, even you turn your own head, stares at Ace with wide-eyed expressions. “Hey! Sue me for having self preservation. I for one wouldn’t make such a stupid deal.”
Bristling, you bite back, “I literally devised a plan to save you from a deal with Azul months ago, asshat.”
“That was Azul; not one of the twins. ‘Sides, I’m sure Jade is so eager to see his little boyfriend/girlfriend again. Probably needs another kiss,” Ace teases with a shit-eating grin. 
Your eyes go small in anger, a poor rendition of Floyd’s but still powerful. For these past two weeks, Ace has been referring to you as Jade’s partner and been hinting at more below-the-belt activities. Who knows what could have happened in Octavinelle, you and him all alone for a full day, he teases for the duration of fourteen days, hands steepled in mischief. Just as you open your mouth, ready to rip Ace a new one, you are lifted off the ground like a mere household pet.
“See! Crabby gets it!” You wrestle and twist in Floyd’s tight hold. “Ya both just need to kiss it out!”
“I think the phrase is talk it out,” Deuce adds helplessly as you dragged off by a 6’1” eel, screaming:
“Ace. Ace! When I get my hands on you! ACE!” 
Thus, you are once more brought to Octavinelle against your will. Instead of being cradled by a cauldron full of water and Azul’s magic, you are held tentatively in Floyd’s arms as you wiggle and thrust in hopes to escape. He does not break your ribs or your arms luckily. You whack Floyd with all your might the entire way.
Heels dragging across linoleum, you watch the ground move under you like an escalator. Floyd is still effortlessly dragging you, much like a body-bag. Already, you have tried to bargain with Floyd on getting your tedious freedom. Offering up pieces of candy you have in your pocket, labor you could perhaps do in the Lounge; offering up one day to ransack Ramshackle of any objects he wants, labor you could perhaps do by helping him complete parkour tricks or basketball. 
His mouth twists in contemplation when you offer to let him use the rocky, uneven terrain of Ramshackle’s backyard. Offer it for what? To Floyd for free-use to test ride for his new Blastcycle. You thank your very low population of lucky stars that Jade mentioned offhandedly Floyd was planning to join one trip of the Mountain Lovers Club to test the motorcycle on new environments for tricks. 
You can deal with another deal with an eel! As long as you can avoid seeing the eel you were trying and probably failing to seduce due to a botched potion! Thinking you have Floyd hook-line-and-sinker, you completely stop struggling. 
Until he hums, “Naaaaah!” and you two are jumping through Octavinelle’s mirror in the Hall of Mirrors. If the world has decided to give all its troubles to one person, the world has picked you from the pile. A part of you hates how much this cursed, twisted world has knocked you down repeatedly.
When the bubble pops, Floyd finally lets you walk with him. Though the arm looped around your shoulder feels more like a pillory than a friendly gesture. Devil-toothed, he smiles at you and says, “Sooo you and Jade, huh?”
“Huh!” You shout indignant. 
“Hey, it’s cool. I approve so no sweat. Just unexpected ‘cus I thought this was just an experiment for Jade; then he got serious so I was thinkin’ wooow, weird, ya know?”
Confused, you just blink at Floyd’s words. This contractual agreement between you and Jade is more cat hunting the mouse then cat watching the mouse navigate a maze. It has a very hands-on experiment with you as the main test subject. But serious; why would it be more or less serious now? 
The smile drops off Floyd’s face. “No way you’re this dumb, Shrimpy. I know ya suck at potionology but c’mon.”
“I just don’t understand what you mean by serious.”
“Sevens, you two would be pinin’ till your fourth year without me.”
“Pining?” … That involves your feelings being mutual? Jade doesn’t – “EEK!”
Floyd’s eyes go back to that pin-prick size again. He even halts both of your walk towards his and Jade’s dorm. Without your trio here, you sincerely doubt how much Floyd is going to uphold his decision not to squeeze you. Instead, he just throws back his head and groans. “He owes me a month worth of pickin’ up my shifts after this.”
You have numerous questions on what Floyd is alluding to but you are suddenly pushed into a more brisk walk. Floyd’s hand steers you. “‘Kay, I’ll give ya the rundown so ya don’t act like an idiot. Jade messed up a potion. And, your guys’ contract says you have to be around each other when that happens.” Incorrect but you let him continue. 
“Jade … ya know him, Jade, my brother? Well, he’s the secretive typa-guy. Has a hard time lettin’ people get close. Mama calls him super shy. But, you, got to go hikin’ with him, see our dorm, and even eat a meal with him. Jade doesn’t do that with just anyone.”
Even though there is no botched potion ingested right now, you feel something fluttering around your stomach like a bubbling elixir at Floyd’s words. He continues, “And, right now, my oh-so-tight-lipped brother is under a truth serum potion.”
The world stops. One, because you come to the world-halting epiphany that you have been seeing a side of Jade that no one other than Floyd and Azul might be privy to view it. Two, because Floyd stops steering you in the direction of the dorm due to arriving at the very designation. The guy who keeps his real thoughts tucked behind layers upon layers of purple prose is under a truth serum; the guy who would rather shrivel up like a beached fish than reveal his heart is under a truth serum; the guy whose Unique Magic forces people to tell the truth is under a truth serum. The irony is not lost on you, and thus the world stops.
“Jade’s under a –?”
“Yeah,” Floyd laughs, tickled pink with amusement. 
In sync, you both glance at the dorm’s door like it is a monolith dropped out of the skies. Who knows what might be held inside it? Venturing in might reveal some eldritch secrets that primitive extraterrestrials hid away thousands of moons ago. 
“You can go in there, ya know. Contract says it’s fine.”
A part of you wants to finally clear up the confusion between Floyd and yours and Jade’s contract. Yet, a bigger part of you, oh that part has to see what is behind Curtain Number One more than anything else. An honest Jade Leech is like finding life on Mars. Deluding yourself, you think: Well, the contract never outlined the terms for the other party being compromised by a potion sooo … You glance at Floyd.
“I don’t understand what you get out of this.”
“Hehe, entertainment.”
That tracks well enough that you do open the door. 
Hand on the knob of the monolith, you glance into rather tenebrous darkness like looking under the bed for monsters. Behind you, Floyd flicks up the switch with his index. Light floods the room. On the bed to the right, Jade lies peacefully on his side, hugging a pillow. 
“You’re gonna need to shake him awake. Jade sleeps reeeal deep.” Slack-jawed, you turn around with indignance on your tongue. As a mouse, you refuse to be sent in to poke a slumbering cat. Yet, Floyd has already departed without another word.
“Asshat,” you mumble at the closed door. It is completely unlocked and you know you could leave anytime but … well, let's just say Jade is not the only one who likes to lift up rocks and see what squirms underneath. Besides, you have contractual terms that keep you protected. 
“Okay … okay.” You steel yourself in your resolve. Despite this, you tiptoe your way over to Jade’s bed, hyper aware of what floorboard looks like it could possibly make a creak. Floyd is not under a truth serum; he could be lying about Jade being a deep sleeper.
Jade looks quite innocent when asleep. It is probably the last adjective anyone would ever use to describe him but it is the bone deep truth. Facade and stress melted from his features, there is this alien beauty resting peacefully on pallid skin. His hair is a bit more unruly; teal wisps all still flow in the same direction but they separate more openly. It kind of looks like someone took a balloon to his head and rubbed until static engulfed it. Oh, and his nose is so cute when he has his cheek depressing down on a pillow like that.
Smile stolen, you blink once in surprise from your own thoughts, despite knowing they have become like that overtime. “Aaah forget about it,” you murmur. 
Reaching over, you gently grasp Jade’s shoulder. You have had a question on your mind for a while. Quiet as a mouse, you urge, “Jade. Jade, wake up.”
Nothing. He is sound asleep like a rock. “Jade?” However hesitant, you still try to shake him a bit more forcefully. “Wake up, Jade.” 
Ugh, this is getting you nowhere. Part of you thinks he is putting up another identity and pretending to be a deep sleeper. Jade is rarely truthful. He always speaks in rhymes and half-truths. For a simple potion to untangle his tongue so thoroughly wants you yearn to discover just a bit more about him. 
In this uneasy friendship of mouse and cat, you have found yourself enjoying discovering the hidden, earnest parts of Jade Leech. It is an unexpected development. 
Though, it stings that he only keeps you around for entertainment and abuse.
Cringing, you think you stumbled upon what will finally rouse him from his sleep. You lean down to his ear and lie, “Jade, I was wondering if you would feed me some of the new mushrooms from your hikes? Pretty please?” 
Unamused, you watch Jade’s eyelashes serenely flutter open like he is Sleeping Beauty. Asshat. Groggily, a pair of eyes stare up at you in disbelief, probably anticipating his brother or his housewarden. But, those blissful words you said seem to have him arouse as he stretches from his bed like a rising cat.
“(Name)?” He asks, sitting up in bed. “What are you doing in my room?”
A sheepish hand travels up to cover your pulse. Leaning heavy on your right foot, you lie with a chuckle, “Ah, Floyd dragged me here. Said you were sick with a fever. I’m not sure how he expects me to help though, heh.”
You know you should not … but you want to play with this. A sadistic part of you wants to watch him squirm and wiggle. Under the guise of coming over to assist him with a fever, you can only imagine Jade will try to hide the fact he is under a truth serum. 
“Ah, Floyd is mistaken. I am not sick.”
That response is unusually curt for Jade; it seems he is going to try to conceal this as long as possible. You cannot wait to stretch out his resistrant like it is a stringy ligament you are drawing and quartering until it snaps. “Oh, that’s just unusual because you are sleeping when you should be in class. Slacking off?”
“Yes, I should be in class.” Jade remains firm in his bed, giving you a polite smile. Additionally, he is firm in his resolve to not give up any information. Even under a botched potion, his self control is strong; you wonder if there is anything that could ever make him act out.
Once again ignorant, you do not know that answer is quite simply: you.
However, there is one question you have been burning and yearning to know. Coy, you ask, “Well, that’s no good. Skipping classes like that. Though, you know I was wondering …Did you put mushrooms in that beef wellington a few weeks ago?”
“Yes.”
Something in you snaps. “AH, I knew it! You asshat!” You raise a fist, throwing yourself at Jade. “That’s disgusting, Jade! A violation of friendship! Where was it!”
As Jade bats away your flying fists, he says without much resistance against the truth serum, “In the duxelles sauce.”
You punctuate each time you call him a donkey wearing a tophat with a hit to his shoulder. Stronger than you, as natural of your protector, Jade is able to evade your hits well. The ones that land he lets land. Yet, having had enough, Jade soon grabs your wrist and with a laugh says, “Fufufu, you are so utterly adorable with your instinct to hit things.”
Blank-faced, you blink at Jade. “... Adorable?” It is not a world altering sentence; you bet Jade finds the prey that skitter away from him back home in the Coral Sea pitifully adorable too. Still, the revelation is a bit of a shock to the heart.
“Well, not solely adorable. No, there is a whole library in my soul dedicated to describing you. There are moments when you are irresistible as  –” Whatever poetry Jade was going to wax, he halts it by slamming a hand over his mouth, horrified. Your eyes lock in shared terror.
“Wh-what,” you stammer, pulling away from Jade.
He grabs you by your shoulders before you get too far. With desperation, he pulls you right back to him. Then, Jade appears stricken, dueling in his head whether he should force you to stay or allow you to leave. It is like both of you have stumbled upon something horrifying and left speechless. Speechless at least until Jade grits out, “I … I think you should go.”
Having the upperhand of remembering he is under a truth serum, you ask softly, “Do you want me to leave?”
“No. I ache when you leave. I wish I had the foresight to length out our contract terms, so I could see you more.” The sheets look like they could tear like paper mache under Jade’s grip. With wobbling lips, he forces a smile full of teeth onto his face. “Don’t you think this humiliation is quite enough?”
To be honest hypotheses have been forming in your head quite some time ago. However, after your last botched potion, embarrassment ate up your speculation on if Jade reciprocated what you felt growing in yourself over time. Now, variables are tipping in your favor. And he has been such a mean cat to you so …
You sit yourself on the edge of Jade’s bed; the first sadistic grin you have ever shown him blooms on your face. “Why, no, I hardly think I’ve done enough.” Leg now up on the mattress, you hook your arms around the body part and lean forward, teasing, “You’re never this honest with anyone, Jade.”
“Best to keep one’s cards close to the chest, don’t you agree? With the way you were acting last time we saw each other, it was like you fumbled the entire deck.”
Your left eye twitches. Cracks appearing in your confidence, you grit out, “Oh, did I? I actually don’t remember all that happened; perhaps you can enlighten me. How did it feel to be so … seduced?”
“I have never known such bliss … Really, (Name), this is painful for me.”
As sheets tear under Jade’s twisting fists, your confidence refuels itself. Being in control like this is exhilarating, you can see why Jade enjoys it so. His squirming is so cute! Smug, you purr, “Oooh I see~” You take in Jade’s grimace with satisfaction and ask, “So, me? Really? When did that start?”
“Since that day in the botanical gardens.”
Your smile drops. “Huh?” Slowly, the landscape of your flesh succumbs to geysering blood. Flustering heat rises and lives on each inch of your face. Because – “Ha … heh, huh?” – you started feeling something naturally after the potion incident where you were turned into a mer. To know his emotions have been kept classified, under lock-and-key for so long; it leaves you dizzy with a blush. Perhaps you aren’t fit for the role of the cat.
However, Jade misjudges your sudden silence for fear. He does not dare to reach out. “Please, don’t be afraid of me.”
“Jade?”
“The very thought that you could makes me sick.” 
You take in Jade’s cumbersome words, speechless. They soak into you like blood to a sponge. Fragile and human, your eyelashes twitch over your eyes, jittery until you half-lid your vision. A charmed chuckle escapes your lips, “oh Jade.”
His skin is so smooth. Cradling his cheek in your metaphorical claws, you smile lovestruck without the love potion. His face starts to beam a light, delicate pink. Cute and delicate and innocent … These are things that Jade is not. But under your warped vision, and through countless new experiments, you can squeeze him to fit the description. 
“I could never be afraid of you. After all you’ve done for me … How you protected me? I don’t care about the teeth; I don’t care about the biology. I don’t need deep sea knowledge to know I like you … and I hope you like me too?” 
You do not let him answer, fearful of the raw truth that could possibly be not what you want to hear, pressing a kiss to his lips. 
His answer –the solution to the hypothesis – is given in his kiss.
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astralphobia · 5 months ago
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anyone else think of how terrifying sock opera must have been for mabel
like
when bipper’s looking down at her with that shit-eating grin, holding the rope?? Yk, that iconic scene??
Yeah, I can’t imagine how Mabel must have felt or how many nightmares sprung from that.
just. Imagine with me, okay? You’re twelve. You have a twin brother who’s been there for you your whole life, and always has your best interest at heart. He’s given up so much for you, and you’ve tried your best to help him in return, helping him solve mysteries and engaging in the things he enjoys with him. You don’t have to do that, but you do, because you want him to be happy.
And one day, something odd happens. He hasn’t gotten a lot of sleep lately, so maybe it’s just sleep deprivation! Maybe he’s just. ..Acting so oddly,, because he’s tired!
yeah. That’s it. At least he wants to help you with your crush for once, even if he wanted to focus on that laptop earlier. You feel kinda bad about ignoring it, but c’monnnn!! This guy is. So hot. You can’t help yourself! .. probably.
When you’re almost halfway through your attempt to impress this guy, this.. puppet you made starts floating, talking to you in the voice of your brother, telling you that he did something stupid (made a deal), and his body is currently being possessed by this triangle jerk you encountered earlier in the summer.
… kinda a lot to take in, but hey!! At least you know what was off now. .. wow, you’re kind of a bad sister for not noticing, huh?
anyways, he needs your help! But it could totally ruin your chances with this guy…. But that doesn’t matter, he needs your help. This only happened because you didn’t help him earlier, so you gotta help him now, right??
you rush to find the only thing that could possibly help you in this scenario. The journal.
And when you do find it, well..
even though you know that is not your brother, that’s a demon, possessing your brother’s body.. it still looks like him. And never have you felt such utter horror, such primal fear at the sight of a simple grin, ear. to. ear.
seeing him above you, standing on the catwalk makes you feel small, useless, insignificant.
and the expression on his face is one you hope you never see his facial features contort into again.
And he’s holding onto the rope that could mean the difference between life or death for you, the rope that is holding you and the wooden cake in the air. You’re lucky he caught it in the first place.
He could drop it any time he wants. Let go any time he wants. And he does, briefly, toying with you.
When your eyes widen and fear squeezes at your heart, he laughs at your pathetic, meaningless actions.
and even though you know it isn’t your brother. You know it’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not, it’s not…
And yet. It sounds like him. His laugh. The little one he makes whenever you make a silly joke, or fall over dramatically, possibly at the expense of your dignity. The one you have heard so many times, usually just as innocent and sweet as the last. And now you hear it again, and even if it’s something else laughing through him,, you can’t help but hear it. Tainted with ill intent.
The day does get saved, however. Your brother gets back into his own body not too much later. And everything is back to normal!
….. but.
You can’t help but remember that moment whenever he smiles a bit too wide, or laughs a bit too hard.
You can’t help but stay awake at night, replaying that moment. Telling yourself that it wasn’t him.
And you still have nightmares about it, too. Where you don’t notice until it’s too late and that thing that looks and sounds like him but isn’t him is back and this time you’ve lost, you’ve lost, you’ve lost!
..you wish you were a better sister.
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listofwhyyouloveher · 5 months ago
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Hiii
Can you do the gang with the reader who can sleep anywhere and everywhere as they pleased😴 (Sorry if my English is a bit broken😭🫶)
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Summary: The Outsider x Sleepy!Reader
Warnings: none Author's Note: gonna try and get thru a lot of requests today, ive got like 15 in my box
You were always tired. Many times you fell asleep in random places, always leaving the gang in awe of how you could sleep so well in such obscure places. Your boyfriend decided that you two needed to spend some time together, so imagine his reaction when you fell asleep!
PONYBOY CURTIS
He invited you over to study, but it really was just catching up over textbooks. It was a little past 3 and Pony was starting to get hungry, so he told you to wait while he grabbed you both a slice of cake. It was a minute before he came back, two plates in hand but he stopped dead when he saw you. You were slumped over the table, head resting on your arm, fast asleep. He laughed and you woke up with a start. 
“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you” he smiled at you, placing your cake next to you. You give him a hazy smile and gently nod.
“Sorry, what were we talking about?” You ask, yawning. He smiled and shook his head.
“Maybe we should just stop and go to bed” He led you to his room and piled blankets on top of you, letting you fall asleep in his arms.
JOHNNY CADE
 Johnny is also a victim of falling asleep in random places, but was never quiet at the same level as you. 
Today, he invited you to the lot for stargazing. You both sat in comfortable silence as you observed Tulsa’s night sky. Johnny turned to you, a smile on his face.
“Don't you think it's pretty?” And he immediately stopped. You were asleep, curled up tightly for warmth, the moon reflecting off your pretty skin. He sighed and smiled wider, wrapping an arm around you and scooting closer to sleep alongside you.
SODAPOP CURTIS
 Soda took you out to the local diner as your weekly date. He got up once to grab some milkshakes from the counter when the waiter engaged him in conversation. He tried to cut the conversation short and get back to you, but apparently he didn't do it fast enough. 
When he came back to your table you were asleep, your hair splayed out and your face down in your arms. He laughed and unbuttoned his flannel to put on top of you as a makeshift blanket. He sat there in his white work tee until you woke up.
STEVE RANDLE
Invited you to come to the DX for his shift and keep him company when a customer walked in. Steve left you alone to consult them and the urge to sleep took over. 
When he came back, you were nowhere to be seen. He looked for you frantically, and only until he checked the corner of the workspace did he find you.
You were passed out and curled up in the corner. He sighed out of relief and sat down next to you for a moment before laying his jacket on you as a blanket.
TWO-BIT MATHEWS 
You, him and his sister hung out often. You took her to dance classes, the park and other places. 
He expressed his interest in going to watch movies with his sister, so you went over to his house with a few DVDs in hand. 
The movie only barely started when he went up to get popcorn and returned to find you both asleep together. He laughed and sat down next to you, careful not to wake the both of you.
DARRY CURTIS
Finds your sleepiness a very good opportunity for someone to mess with you so he always warns you about it. He was in the kitchen with you making dinner when you dozed off next to the stove. 
Darry immediately woke you and started to lecture you about falling asleep near dangerous things but he turned away for one moment and you were asleep again!
He sighed, frustrated, before calming down and picking you up and carrying you to bed.
DALLAS WINSTON
He understands your sleepiness because he often gets really tired too. However, that doesn’t mean he doesnt tease you for it. He’d taken you to another one of Buck’s parties, but you were already tired from a long day, so when he sat you down to get another drink you found yourself drifting off. It didn’t matter how loud the music was or how loud the people were talking, you soon fell asleep.
Dallas came back with the drinks and gave you an unimpressed look. He sighed before placing down the drinks and picking you up. He quickly went up into his room and dumped you on the bed before going back down to the party.
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clamenstell · 11 months ago
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thinking about lovesick!gojo
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- lovesick!gojo who fell in love with you when you held his hand in comfort when he was upset from being scolded by the higher ups about something reckless he did.
- lovesick!gojo who noticed the way you understood that he was still young and even the strongest made mistakes, which is okay as he's still learning.
- lovesick!gojo who started noticing little things about you, like how you pick your nails when nervous, how your eyes light up when talking about your interest, how you tap your pencil in thought when working in class and when you smile, little dimples appear on your cheeks.
- lovesick!gojo who gets butterflies in his stomach whenever you giggle at his terrible jokes while suguru and shoko both roll their eyes in annoyance.
- lovesick!gojo who jokes around even more in order to hear you laugh again, even when the others grow even more tired of him.
- lovesick!gojo who doesn't try to hide how much he wants to hang out with you, who makes up ridiculous excuses to spend time with you. "What do you mean Suguru is busy? Isn't he right there?" "HAHAHA! That's hilarious, let's go somewhere else..." as he drags your form in the opposite way.
- lovesick!gojo who falls even more when you indulge in his teasing. "Need some help?~" You roll your eyes. "I wouldn't want to bother the strongest one~ I'm sure you have better things to do." His grin widens. "It's ok, I don't mind sparing my time for you~"
- lovesick!gojo who tries to impress you everytime you're both assigned on the same mission, showing off at every chance he got and turning his head expectantly to you to see if you were watching him. "Did you see how I exorcised that curse?" "Yes, you did great Satoru.🙄" ":))))"
- lovesick!gojo who feels the pit of jealousy when he sees you conversing with a kyoto student, even more when he sees you laugh at something he said. You were suppose to laugh at his jokes, not a random nobody's.
- lovesick!gojo who appears right by your side in the middle of your conversation, sliding an arm around your waist, pouting and batting his eyelashes. "Baby, I thought we had something special :((( 🥺🥺🥺" "Satoru what the fuck."
- lovesick!gojo who grins in victory when the kyoto guy leaves in panic from seeing the affectionate display, but frowns when you scold him for disturbing your conversation. It doesn't matter, he still won and now your attention is on him instead :)
- lovesick!gojo who loves sharing sweets with you. Whenever he bought pastries from your favourite bakery he will always get extra to share with you. He especially loved seeing your face light up whenever he mentioned getting your favourite pastry.
- lovesick!gojo who gets surprised when you always return the favor, always sharing baked goods you bought, even getting the extra sweet ones just for him.
- lovesick!gojo who's ears turn red at the thought of you buying something just for him, no one else.
- lovesick!gojo who swears he will marry you one day, no matter the circumstance, not even the higher ups would stop him. All he need is to ask you out first, but seeing you chuckle as you two shared a chocolate cake, he thought staying by your side is good enough for now. After all, he's not getting cured from this sickness anytime soon.
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he's so 🥺❤️😍🥺🤗😚❤️😳🥰❤️ to me
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xo2dee · 3 months ago
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��ᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ
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𓆩♡𓆪 ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Nanami Kento x (Fem)Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MDNI/18+ only. post shibuya au, post shibuya!nanami, manga spoilers, mentions of body harm, established relationship, body worship, hand jobs, thigh riding, slight angst
𓆩♡𓆪 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9833
𓆩♡𓆪 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: In time, in sync, tonight the stage is yours.
𓆩♡𓆪 ᴀ/ɴ: i wrote this like two years ago for nanami's bday and was supposed to post it again on his bday but im late for everything :/ but pls enjoy!
𓆩♡𓆪 twitter - ao3
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Violet clouds tumbling about in various shapes and sizes and an orange sky waning to something cooler took the time to bathe Tokyo in its glory for the evening. And as gorgeous as it looked, you could not find the means to take in the beautiful sight outside your balcony window since you were too busy keeping all your attention on your surly lover and his disgruntled attitude from the moment he had woke up that morning.
“No peeking,” you reminded him, your hands still covering his eyes regardless before you placed a chaste kiss to his cheek.
Kento sighed, his shoulders drooping and leaning his back from where he sat in the dining room to brush the crown of his head against your chest, “I’m not, and I told you this wasn’t necessary. You didn’t have to go out of your way to do anything for me.” His voice remained in that low grumble (tired, quiet, and nearly monotone), but you could vaguely hear the briefest bit of anticipation in way his vocal cords slightly shook. From the element of surprise or your clingy behavior? You weren’t sure.
You pulled your hands away after resting your chin on his shoulder, glancing over to make sure he still wasn’t peeking before you hummed and rubbed your hands along his upper arms, “So you say, but you of all people should know me.”
“I do, and I had a feeling from the moment you left this morning that you were up to something.”
You looked away from his long eyelashes brushing across his skin, noting the faintest shade of red coloring his cheek in the process, and looked in front of you both onto the dinner table where sat his ‘birthday cake’ and the polka-dotted candles lit up with the number 32 spread out. You moved your hands onto his shoulders and massaged them, your own sigh falling out of your mouth and kissed his temple at his ragged tone. “It’s nothing bad… And it’s not like I pulled a Gojo and nearly planned a whole surprise party; just a little of something to show my appreciation and love for you.”
“You already did this morning and gave me my gift. And you’ve told me, ‘Happy Birthday’ at least three times already today too.”
You squeezed his shoulders and rolled your eyes, remembering his sleepy grumbling when you had woken him up at three in the morning to tell him, when you had kissed his scarred cheek from behind as he stood in front of the mirror brushing his teeth and told him, and when you had texted him around lunch time with an excessive amount of emojis and letters full of caps lock and received a thumbs up emoji in response and just a, ‘Thank you, I love you’.
(Kento sucked at texting and it only seemed to be getting worse as he grew older, but you weren’t about to tell him that.)
But he could blush and sigh in exasperation all he wanted, you knew he liked attention from you. “So what? It’s like a national holiday to me today… Anyway, you can open your eyes now,” you combed your fingers through his hair, the undercut long since grown out as he had gotten older before throwing your arms around his shoulders once more as you pressed your cheek into his and smiled from the warmth it emitted, “I hope you like it.”
You could feel him sigh before you heard him, peeking in your peripheral vision as you watched his one eye open to give sight to the lone umber iris you treasured as it settled on the table in front of him. You bit the inside of your cheek as he took it in, the usual taut furrow in his brow lessening, his lips slightly parting as you watched the amber candlelight flicker across his sharp, angular features, and a glimmer of surprise taking over his expression altogether as he took in what was in front of him while remaining speechless. It made you giddy, a giggle bubbling out of your lungs from his apparent awe as you angled your mouth onto his jawline and kissed him there as well, leaving behind yet another lipstick stain in your wake.
“Happy Birthday, handsome. You said you weren’t up for a cake this year, so I had to compromise and I think I did pretty good.”
You folded your hands atop his chest (his steady heartbeat ricocheting off your palms setting itself as a reminder of what you nearly lost, and how it remained beating despite the rough exterior of his skin on the outside and the failed lung the doctors did their best to help causing him to have breathing problems still after four years) and embraced him from your stance behind him, basking yourself in his warmth as you heard his breathing pick up and his hand coming up to curl around your wrist.
“This is… I haven’t had this in –”
“Nearly ten years? I know,” you cheekily replied, tucking your face in his neck and curling yourself into his scent, “Would’ve been a hassle trying to find the place if it wasn’t for you telling me about it all the time.”
Kento made a noise in the back of his throat, releasing his hold on your wrist and turning his head as you removed your face from his neck so that your noses brushed across one and another, “You… Is that what you were scribbling on that piece of paper this morning…?” He hadn’t removed his eyepatch for the day, nor had he ever seemed to stop dressing down since the accident, but you knew it was more of a small insecurity he held within himself to remain looking as normal as he could. Not that he was particularly vain, but you knew he hated looking in the mirror sometimes thinking he was disfigured beyond being recognized and often it showed when it came to you regardless.
Nevertheless you felt your cheeks warm, realizing he had seen you doing that and casted a small glance to your purse that laid on the couch from when you came home and he took it from you. Kento’s own near indistinguishable glint in his eye brightened, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you into his lap and securing you there when you threw your legs across his own as you got ready for all the teasing you knew was to come. However, he seemingly spared you for the night, taking your hand to press a warm kiss to the inside of your wrist and murmuring against your skin so quietly and softly you nearly didn’t hear him.
“Tell me about your day.”
He wanted to know your thought process on why you did it and truly what you had done the entire day away from him.
The dreaded piece of paper with your destination scrabbled on it like chicken scratch had been crumbled and folded up in your purse as you had left your shared apartment in a haste, nearly your shoes on the wrong feet and almost forgetting your wallet in the process to race against the clock to get to work and to perhaps keep your husband under wraps for the surprise. However, going to the store and getting all the other supplies you needed was a walk in the park, but trying to find the exact location of… Hell, you weren’t even able read the damn name anymore by the time 4 P.M. rolled around, as the ink had blotted and the shitty pen you kept in your purse barely worked anyway, so you were left with squinting at it standing on the sidewalk trying to remember where in the fuck you were supposed to go in smack dab the middle of the Summer.
And, fuck, was it hot.
Unbearably and unbelievably hot.
July was seemingly always scalding in the Summer of Tokyo, and it didn’t really matter that the sun was only beginning to set for the temperature to remain the same as it was from noon until at least nine at night. Perspiration clung to your body with every step you took, your thighs beginning to chafe from how they had been rubbing together while you walked and you were then wondering if the sun had fried your brain from where it had been beating down on your scalp all day. You had lost count of the many times you had accidentally licked your upper lip free of any sweat, hoping to anyone above that your eyelash glue wasn’t melting off your fucking eyelid and your eyeliner wasn’t running and smudged underneath your eye with the amount times you had fiddled with your face, but more importantly you hoped that whatever you were doing worked out in the end and you didn’t look like an idiot.
It was July 3rd, and you had trotted out around on one of the world’s hottest, and most special days in desperation for a gift you had somehow thought of on your own to get.
It was July 3rd, and it was your husband’s  – Nanami Kento – birthday, and you were trying your damnedest to find that little, nook-and-cranny, locally owned (because Kento really preferred local businesses more than anything) bakery that he used to frequent constantly, and maybe beg for the recipe for his favorite sandwich so that you could make it for him for his birthday and any other day he wanted for the rest of his life.
Perhaps it was an oddball gift, as you had already asked Kento what he wanted –
(“What do you want for your birthday?”
“You don’t have to get me anything. Spending time with you that day is enough for me.”
“Corny. And you say that every year, and you still get me things for my birthday.”
“And I mean it every year. The greatest gift you have given me was when you agreed to marry me, so you’ve already given me everything I could have ever wanted.”
Okay, you’d admit, you giggled, squealed, and kicked your feet like a girl with a crush at that, the corny, dork of a man always one-upping you and making you feel like a Goddess, but God for once you wanted to make him feel the same way.)
– and he had said nothing despite the fact that whenever you gifted him that book he had been eyeballing in the book store he had literally sighed like he was fantasizing about getting home to watch his favorite cooking show, and it was then the lightbulb in your head went off when you remembered Kento only really sighed over very few things.
One: the crisp smell of a new book and the tightly wounded spine nearly making him bust in his pants whenever he got his hands on it.
Two: you.
And three: food. Not just any old food either; sandwiches that made him gush and launch into a detailed explanation about whenever the bread was baked just right, and the vegetables looked like edible art, and the meat to it was laid and folded just perfectly with the right amount of sauce and any seasoning, was really what could get Kento going and make him literal putty.
So, you thought, why not find that bakery he used to go to (and for some reason won’t go back, you weren’t about to ask why either) and get the little recipe of the sandwich he sometimes would whisper in your ear about like he was dirty talking to you again, and just make it for him? It was a perfect idea to you, and for once Kento wouldn’t practically kick you out of the kitchen whenever you offered to make something for him whenever you had the Holy Grail in your hands and could hover it over his head.
Yeah, it was a good gift, and you only had nonchalantly asked him the name of the place so you were all set the moment he spoke them without a thought in the world. Kento would be ecstatic, and it’d make you feel at ease if you got see that genuine smile spread across his face because he had looked miserable when you went to work that morning and lingered by the front door longer than usual and kissed you goodbye a little harder than normal before you left. Then he’d be less miserable having his favorite sandwich made out for him and sleep like a baby that night with one hand holding your boob like always.
Yeah, everything would work out perfectly.
And considering his reaction and how he was staring at you perched atop his lap embarrassed as you rambled on about everything, you assumed you hit the nail on the head.
Kento had propped an elbow up onto the table, his cheek resting against his knuckles and his thumb rubbing into your hipbone as you finished talking as he had listened so intently with a twinkle in his half-lidded eye and small, smile on his face. “Even when I think I know you, you still continue to surprise me.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, thoroughly smug that you had managed to surprise him in the end and batted your eyelashes at him, “It’s my charm. And it’s not a fun marriage unless we still continue to surprise each other like this.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily know, this is my first marriage.”
“And it better be your only.”
He rolled his eye back, tapping his index finger against his temple and flexing his thighs beneath your body as he stretched them out, as he knew you were only teasing him ever since you laughed in his ear at the old grannies down at Farmer’s Market with hearts in their eyes every time he went and grocery shopped. “I took my vows to heart that day –”
“I know, it was like two pages long –”
“ – Regardless,” he shot you a look, but his reddening cheeks spoke for the most of him, “I’m a monogamous man… for the rest of my life.”
“Like a penguin.”
Kento’s lips twisted into a curl, like he was trying to hold himself back from laughing, “You say my animal documentaries are boring, yet you remember things like that?”
You shrugged and brought yourself closer to him, locking your fingers behind his neck and bringing his cheek in for another kiss, “I think it’s sweet… Anyway, I take it you like your gifts?” you asked with a tilt of uncertainty in your voice, something he caught up on with his intuitive sixth sense when it came to all things regarding you.
Kento moved meticulously, removing his hand from his cheek and to yours as his other slid up to rest on your back with his fingers spread, and it took you a long moment to realize he was touching you with his left hand. All remnants of nearly flawless skin that was once there, and you nearly couldn’t even feel the callousness of it spread out to his fingertips as you had grown so used to it. Kento’s left hand was the hand that held the wedding band, and it was the hand you always took to hold, to kiss, to rub your cheek across in a semblance of your love whenever you couldn’t find the words to tell him and he was going through a bout and your actions spoke louder than your words ever could.
He still looked at you the same way he had whenever you were the first face he saw whenever he woke up from the hospital and the day he saw you at your wedding. And you still had trouble not shying away from his intense gaze like the days you could barely look him in eyes in the beginning of your relationship, but it was all worth it in the end whenever he spoke his affirmations to you.
Kento was not a man of many words per say, more showing his emotions through his actions, but when he did take the time to formulate words of comfort on his tongue to mouth into your skin, you knew he meant every word.
“Of course, anything and everything you given me I cherish, beloved. Getting my favorite sandwich, however…” he trailed off, and you could distinctly hear his stomach grumble in a sign that he had not yet ate. He took that time to drop his hand to rub at your arm, a sigh leaving him that sounded nearly forlorn and you just knew he was already calculating all the parts of the sandwich and critiquing them to his liking. And from what you could see (nearly the damn reflection of the sandwich shining in his eye with sparkles around it), he liked what he saw.
(Honestly, if he had never went into being a salaryman those short years or made his way back into Jujutsu Sorcery, Kento could’ve easily have became a chef if he so wanted. You could vouch for that for the many nights Kento cooked for you and sent you off to work with a packed lunch.)
Though looking at Kento reminded of you of part two for what you wanted to tell him, the corner of the receipt paper it was written on digging into your breast (and probably a little sweaty) as you straightened back up and pulled your face away from his.
“Ah – that reminds me –” you dropped your arms from around his neck before you began unbuttoning your shirt, discreetly eyeing Kento as you did and creasing your lips so that you didn’t laugh whenever you saw his eye widen and face turn that lovely shade of rose when you figured he was thinking you were turning to a more carnal side. Silly, cute, little man, he had seen you naked countless times, but still got slightly embarrassed and would start sweating whenever you started to show him your boobs, and it always fun to tease at him. You didn’t keep him on the edge, afraid he’d combust if you started undressing, and only unbuttoned two to reach into your bra and pull out the folded piece of paper, “Got another little surprise.”
Kento regarded you amused (possibly wondering what else you kept in your bra) before picking the paper up between two fingers and inspecting it with dubious concern. “…It’s wet.”
“I was sweating, okay? It’s hot, now just open it.” You could’ve done without his commentary.
He obliged you, unfolding the receipt carefully before he let his eye roll over the numerous words written down in a row with instructions written next to each one of them, with precise quantities and times because you knew it had to be just perfect. He blinked as he read over them fast, an eyebrow quirking up before looking at you curious to what it all meant, “Ingredients and instructions?”
You leant into him, pressing your forehead against the side of his head and toying with the top two buttons of his shirt, “To your favorite sandwich. Now you or I can make it anytime you want, and be forever grateful to the girl working for giving it to me without an argument.”
His looked somewhat excited as he inspected the paper in his hand, yet the drone of his voice nearly made it sound like he couldn’t bring himself to care. You knew better though, he was just too embarrassed to show his obvious happiness to what you had got him, but the little sigh he let out before speaking was the same one he made whenever you gave him that book. “And how did you manage this?”
“I’m the master of ass-kissing.” (Read: you begged and promised you’d come back with him if she had given it to you.)
“True.”
You slapped his chest lightly and nearly squealed at his little smile, situating yourself in his lap as you turned to look at his favorite sandwich topped off with the gaudy candles that was slowly beginning to wither away before snatching the birthday hat you bought and slapping it atop his head. He looked cute whenever he was disgruntled, especially when the elastic to the hat slapped his chin, but it was even funnier watching his expression wither when you sat the kazoo on your tongue and blew into it right in his face and ear while expressing your excitement, yet again.
“Happy Birthday, Kento! Now blow out your candles and make a wish, birthday boy.”
A few moments passed, and you watched the gears in his head turn as he sat the paper down onto the table, and you nearly wanted to groan when you realized where he was going with his idea.
“Stop. Before you say anything else corny. You have to keep your wish to yourself and maybe it’ll come true.”
He looked like he wanted to argue but did as you asked and blew them out without a second thought. The amber glow of the day fading away as the sky outside turned to dusky purple and left you and Kento alone to enjoy it together, yet you watched curiously as he tore off a part on one half of the sandwich, his arm curling around you to keep you sat snugly in his lap before he brought up the piece and held it against your lips. His voice but yet another warm, soft murmur, mouthed into your cheek and his tongue nearly swiping along your skin.
“Wanna help me eat it?”
The moment you got done eating with him and moved to cleaning (to which you had to ban Kento from the kitchen whenever he tried to even think about helping) and while you had been cleaning, the faintest scent of cigarette smoke and Kento’s preferred cologne reached your nostrils, a thin trail of the smog wiggling into the living from the open balcony door letting you know that Kento had been outside on the balcony where he usually smoked. If there was one thing about him, it was that he was pristine about not letting any smoke come into contact with anything inside, wanting to smoke outside as he did it very rarely before, but after the accident Kento had taken up smoking more than usual. You had told him it wasn’t too good for his lungs, but you couldn’t do much when you remembered he mainly did it as a form of an anxiety reliever and whenever he was stressed… Besides, where he wasn’t too worried about his own health, he constantly fretted over your own and refused to smoke anywhere near where you could secondhand do it.
He never smoked long and when you walked out of the kitchen it wasn’t an odd sight to see him on the couch by then, one hand swirling a glass of whiskey from the bottle that sat on your centerfold table with the blue bow around the neck (courtesy of Mr. Satoru, even adding a little note that said, “Happy Birthday! With Love, Gojo <3” combined with his own chibi drawing of himself throwing up peace signs) with the ice cubes clinking against the rim and his nose already buried in the book you had bought him. He was a sight to behold as well, his bright hair pushed back onto his head with the very small telling sign of a five o’clock shadow growing along his jawline that would be gone as soon as the morning came, his shirt having been deftly unbuttoned to grow accustomed to the heat coming from outside and his skin beginning to finally wane away from that sunburn he had gotten from the trip you two had gone on to Milan two weeks before.
He truly was beautiful, inside and outside, but it was heartbreaking to see him sometimes avoid mirrors or from going out into public on the days he was feeling particularly bad.
You didn’t take long to join him, the soft music he had put on soothing your ears as you eyed the sharpness of his jawline sculpted and shadowed from the sky outside and sat down on your side of couch. You stretched your legs out and toed at his thigh, appreciating his loose slacks on his figure while grabbing his attention, “You like the book?”
“Mm, very much. Thank you again.”
“I’m glad, you had been eyeing it for a while so I knew I just had to buy whenever you wouldn’t…” you reclined back into the many throw pillows on the couch (something was your doing as Kento had been the one to pick out the style and layout of the apartment, but you were giving the reigns to decorations as you seemed fit – especially if the fuzzy throw rug beneath you two spoke for anything) watching his eye move over every word and wondering if he was truly content to stay inside with you for the night. You bit the bullet in the end, knowing you’d only worry yourself to death over him if you didn’t ask. “You sure you don’t wanna go out anywhere else? Gojo and Shoko did invite us to that restaurant you like.”
He peered at you for a long moment before sighing, closing his book and set both it and his drink onto the end table next to him and grabbing your ankles to pull your feet into his lap to rub at them, “I’m more than glad to stay here and spend the night with you. Knowing Gojo he’ll tell the waiters it’s my birthday and I’ll have to sit there and endure that God awful singing… Besides,” he threw his back onto the edge of the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the hard swallow he took as he massaged a particular knotted spot in your foot, “I’m not really one for attention like that.”
Kento never was one for going out into public for celebrations, sure he would occasionally go out to eat and take you out on a date for your anniversary, and he also always made sure to have plans for your birthday, but never was one really for his celebrating his own. You had learned even as a child his mother normally baked him a cake on the day as he and his family celebrated it at their home; a quiet and mundane tradition he seemed to want to carry on into his adult life, and you had no problem obliging that. Kento never minded if only a few people gave him birthday wishes, but a part of you wondered if his newfound insistence to remain home on certain days was still the effect to what had happened to him in Shibuya. He had not seen Gojo in over a year, and the rest that remained even less, but you knew retirement meant usually staying away from all things that were work.
Sure you could hear Gojo’s voice over the phone at times, and you could hear Ijichi asking how he was at times in the night, and it was even better whenever you watched his phone light up with the name Itadori Yuji with text messages, but you knew only talking to them over the phone could only last so long and Kento had to at least go and see them when they all worried over him and constantly asked you about him. Not that you were annoyed over it, but more-so worried Kento was starting to shut himself out again from everyone and keeping his distance from everyone. You supposed he thought his birthday would come and go once more, just another day on the calendar to him and he could continue living out as the years passed and he was at peace with himself.
You weren’t going to dally on it, instead taking in his form that looked more taut with tension than it had been in a while as you preyed upon the slight sheen resting atop his collarbones. It had been awhile since you and Kento had been intimate, something that took some time to open him up to again and something that was still a hit-or-miss situation when it came down to him wanting to indulge in carnal desire, but you never pressed him for it to just instead opting to wait it out whenever he was ready. Though sex had been somewhat different from Kento at times taking you from behind as much as he could, to him not even thinking of himself as he buried his face into you and ate your pussy until you were crying from overstimulation and couldn’t take it anymore, you never really got the chance to worship him much like he did you.
Kento needed to relax, take all worry off his shoulders if just for the time being and enjoy life as he could in the moment. You weren’t about to let that opportunity pass up either whenever you had the chance on a day you were dead-set on showing him all the appreciation and love.
“Then –” you broke the silence, watching him reopen his eye to peek at you first before you wiggled your feet out of his grasp and spread your legs apart as an invitation, “something else for the night?” you asked coyly, refraining from biting your lip when you watched his chest rise and fall from the heavy exhale he took once the skin of your inner thighs came into his view.  
You had thought he’d perhaps politely decline again, telling you he’s not feeling up to it for the night, but you were mildly surprised when he moved for you, his body rolling off from his position as he found himself lowered down in-between your legs. You blinked at how fluidly he moved, having little to no time to even react yourself when he was already there, one on your legs hoisted up over his shoulder as he pressed the other one down into the sofa cushion. He was still gentle as ever; his hand skimming along your inner thighs, his cheeks brushing along your skin as you felt the roughness from the light facial hair and burnt remains on the left side of his face, and of course his lips finding their way to kiss every single inch of you he could until he got to where he wanted to be most.
You were nearly ready to just let him have it that way, your clit already throbbing in anticipation when you remembered just how good Kento was at eating you out and how good it felt when he knew just how to bob his nose along your clit, but you remembered that it wasn’t about you that night and you were set on a mission to make him feel the most good instead of his usual lenience to cater to you most of all. Kento kissed and sucked at a spot on your inner thigh for a brief moment, his fingers creeping up to find the edge of your panties before your hands shot down and one curled around his wrist and the other tangled into the locks of his hair in a gentle squeeze. You had done it in the heat of the moment to keep yourself from drowning into him; a knee-jerk reaction that made Kento balk and nearly push himself away from you if you hadn’t spoke for your intentions.
“Wait – not like this.”
Sneaking a peak down to him you almost wanted to reassure him from the slightly cautious look in his eye, his chin dipping back into his chest nearly like he was afraid to get to close to you again without knowing exactly what you wanted from him as he spoke slowly and so quietly you wanted to sigh at his brief relapse of insecurity.
“You don’t want me to eat you out?”
This man… It wasn’t that at all. You frowned, cheeks warm despite your annoyance to completely ignore himself and swatted at him from between your legs, “Are you forgetting today isn’t about me?”
Kento had the gall to look confused, brow knitted and cheeks turning pink as his lips fell into a thin line, “I always eat your pussy when we have sex.” Why did he have to say it like he was droning on about workplace harassment to Gojo again? Not only that, he nearly looked like he was ready to pout he couldn’t face dive into your pussy and drown himself in there like he was drinking from the scared rivers of Eden.
You leant back on your elbows and rolled your eyes, your skirt sliding up as you did and leaving you reeling in the slight satisfaction you got watching his eyes dart down for brief second to catch a glimpse of the panties you put on for him, and slid your leg off of his shoulder, “Yes, I know, and I do brag about it to my friends a lot –” He nearly looked mortified before rolling his eye. “ – but that’s not the point. Today I just wanna give you the appreciation you deserve…”
Kento only blinked at your words, his eye glazing over for a moment before he looked damn near ashamed and shy from his spot in-between your legs and released his hold on your thighs to sit back upright on the couch. He kept his body open however, legs spread and arms open to invite you into him, but you could still see the slight stiffness present in his shoulders as he sat there awaiting you into his arms. He swallowed once, looking unsure for but a brief moment, before he gave you his verbal consent that he wanted to continue, knowing you weren’t going to move unless you knew he wanted you to.
“Come here.”
You offered him a small smile in return before crawling over to him, not finding yourself in his lap just then as you gave him yet another kiss to cheek and trailed on over to his ear lobe, whispering into his ear in a churning murmur to let him know your true thoughts. “Something else for the night?” Only a rumbling hum was your answer, the heat behind your naval already burning with unbridled want as he leaned back fully and let you straddle his lap, your knees digging into the cushions of the couch and you breasts pushed up against the broadness of his own as you snuck your fingers up to his face once more. You were tracing over his brow bone when he answered you, a mumble as soft as the sheets felt whenever he took you on your wedding night and you fully became husband and wife with the kiss that you had dreamt of for years.
“Okay… Something else this time.”
Kento’s breath stuttered the moment you moved over to his eyepatch, meeting that one umber iris for a second before you got the approval and were able to remove it with his permission. You discarded it next to the both of you as you leaned in to place a soft kiss to where his left eye used to sit, his chest heaving with a hiccupping sigh as you moved a hand to comb through his hair and trailing down to trace his jawline with only but your fingertips. You didn’t waste any time to move your lips down to his own, planting a slow kiss there with as much passion as you always did because the scars never really did bother you, nor did the mismatched feeling of his mouth on your own or sucking along your skin turn you off to him in anyway whatsoever. It was a slow song you teetered to, opening up your arms to him as you swayed in front of him gently opening him up to the idea until he got comfortable to get up and join you.
When his hand landed on your lower back to knead in your skin and muscle with his knuckles, you knew he was complying to let you take control for the night and cater to him much like he did you all those times. Though he was still somewhat unsure as his sigh shakily and ran a finger up your spine while speaking into your kiss, “Can… can we just go slow… Just be easy tonight; no rush. And nothing too intense.”
You leant up to kiss his forehead, a sheen of light sweat making itself known on his skin there, and pushed his hair behind his ear as you answered, “Of course. Anything you want.”
You could smell the smoke and whiskey as he blew a breath of relief into your face, his mouth finding yours again for another kiss, “Thank you.”
You pulled away from his lips and cupped his cheeks, smiling against his lips as you whispered against them just what you thought about him, “You’re pretty.”
Within your palms you could feel his cheeks warm and watched his eyebrow tick upwards at the compliment, the evidence of his embarrassment there despite how steady his voice remained when he answered you, “I don’t think that word suits someone like me.”
“Don’t deflect,” you sighed, kissing the corner of his mouth as you knew good and well that he knew why you were saying it, “You’re handsome; beautiful; other-worldly… How about those?”
Kento’s face was visibly turning redder as you named off every word that you could to describe him, his fingers knotting in the back of your shirt as he balled it up and you felt his jaw shake to formulate a response. When he seemed unresponsive you settled for a kiss you placed onto his jawline to ease him, your fingers sliding down along his neck and collarbones until you found the buttons of his shirt and began plucking them free as his hands returned to smoothing out along your back. Sometimes it was better to play into Kento’s body language with your own, as he was a man of very few words at times and it was an easier route to show him your comfort through actions pertaining towards your delicate nature towards him instead of words that would only fluster and overstimulate him.
He let you map out his body as you pulled his shirt apart, fingertips gentle as they ran over the more predominate area of his skin covered in scars and lost skin. You could feel the uncertainty in his taut muscles, the desire to perhaps cover himself back up from the way you were following the moments of your fingers along his skin with your eyes, and you had to stop yourself for a moment as when you skimmed his abdomen it flexed harshly as you brushed across a long wounded scar from a fight years before the accident. You looked back up to him from underneath you eyelashes, his head having tipped back a fraction as you eased him back to look at you and to only admire his features in the violet dusk from outside for a moment before you remembered you had to keep up the reassurance.
“Is this okay?” you asked, running a thumb underneath the eye and enjoying the feeling of his eyelashes kissing your skin whenever he blinked.
You gauged his reaction as he held your gaze, something glimmering in the lonely iris as his pupil dilated when he stared for seconds longer and sighed shakily before finally answering, “It’s okay.”
It was the reassurance and encouragement you needed, keeping your touch light as you wiggled back onto his lap but a few inches and your hand on his hip trailed down to his pants, enough to reach and see what you had been easing him into already showing through his loose slacks. You spread your fingers across his pectoral, his heartbeat steady against your palm as you cupped him through his pants, running a finger along what you knew what the tip and switching to full on rubbing him through the cloth when you heard the sigh leave him as you touched him.
“Still okay?” you repeated once more, experimentally wrapping your fingers around what you could of his cock and squeezing him. Your skin prickled whenever he groaned softly, a pant on the edge of his tongue as your stomach twisted with phantom butterflies when you remembered all the breathy noises he would make in your ear and neck when he was losing himself to your touch or inside of you.
“Still okay,” he answered, his head falling back onto the back of the couch again and causing your hand to drift up towards the waistband of his pants when you took it as a sign to continue further and take the next step. You hummed as you leaned into him, pressing a kiss in the middle of his pectorals as you slid your hand into his pants and briefs fully to touch him.
His low sighs encouraged you, peppering kisses along his torso much like he did your own before in your own form of body worship. Once you got closer to his nipple and you allowed your lips to close around it for you to suck on, a higher-pitched noise sounding like a whine leaving him as he gave a full body jerk. You latched off his hardened nipple and blinked coyly up at him, watching as he kept his eyes on the ceiling and his parted, pink lips continuing to match the coloring on his cheeks while your hand finally pulled his cock free from his pants into the open air and for your eyes to see.
It was already deepening into a red, his veins engorged as it throbbed in your hand and you traced a finger along the vein protruding from the underside of him. You only watched with an inward sigh as precum began to leak from his head, feather-light touches you kept along the sensitive region as he jerked his hips underneath you while you lubed your hand up with his fluids, and whines disguised as hisses escaped through his clenched his teeth when you swirled your thumb along his tip the way you knew he liked it.
His tone was slightly shaky when he spoke again, chest heaving and his fingers digging into your shirt, “Don’t tease. Please – just touch me.” He was perhaps a bit too whiney for his own liking as his breathing began to speed up when you dipped back down to kiss along his chest and fully wrap your hand around his cock to jerk him off, but you realized he was in no place to necessarily to care when you were easing into comforted euphoria once more.
You hummed against his hot skin, amping up your ministrations a bit as you closed your teeth around the nipple you had in your mouth in a playful bite and only letting up when you heard the soft groan he gave while hips lifted marginally off the couch. You pressed a kiss to it afterwards before beginning to slide your lips down to kiss sweetly along the rest of his scars, and letting your hand fondle at his nipple instead, squeezing, tugging and all around fondling it as you kissed and sucked around rest of his body while your hand kept up a steady rhythm up and down his cock.
With Kento’s soft groans, slight whining, pants egging you on, you kissed some of the old, fading scars tenderly only knowing they existed in the times you spent tracing a finger around his skin those nights you spent cuddling. You kissed them with an overwhelming amount of affection, a reminder that he was still gorgeous with them and a reminder that he was strong enduring even the harshest of battles and coming out from them alive. He blew air through his mouth then again, a sigh so soft and full of longing it made you realize he had never been given attention towards his body like that without it being blatant ogling at his chest straining against his shirts.
Each kiss you placed onto his warm skin made you sigh afterwards, discreetly inhaling his scent each time you did so for how good he smelled and how his natural scent brought you comfort more than you could imagine. As you felt along his body, you began to feel the jittery nerves he had before slowly begin crawl back into the depths of his mind to be forgotten for the time and to be replaced with the carnal lust and the burning affection you both held for each other.  
A grunt fell out of him and his hand flew up to grip your nape when you felt him twitch from the all the overwhelming attention, pulling your body closer to him than you thought was possible as he maneuvered your head back up to him so that his breath sifted across and into your ear. You squirmed from the sensation as it made you rock your hips onto his lap when you remembered all the dampness present in your underwear and it was something he caught onto as it was beginning to seep through your panties and onto his pants.
Kento’s thumb rubbed at your nape, his lips pressing a kiss to ear lobe before he spoke, “You can’t sit here and only think about me,” his fingers left your back and you felt them dance along your inner thigh, creeping up your skirt and towards your panties as you kissed at his jaw once more, “Do you want me to touch you?”
You latched off of his skin and moved to slightly bite his earlobe, hotly whispering into his ear while your hand slowly picked up a pace, “It’s not about me.”
He was ever persistent though – a blessing to have a man like him more worried about your pleasure than his own in some cases, but also terribly inconvenient in situations like you were in then when you wanted to be the one in charge and making him feel good before yourself. His hand moved to grip your hip, his breaths falling from parted lips by then and his hips rocking upwards the follow the way you pumped his cock, “But –” he started off, a whine barely there hidden underneath his wavering voice of reason.
“It’s okay. Just relax,” you cut him off, reassuring him as you lifted up on your knees a fraction to maneuver your body to have his one thigh trapped between your legs. Kento only watched you as you slowly plopped down onto his thigh, your panties all but soaked by then and your clit tingling for attention as you leisurely rocked once and sighed whenever you felt your nerves calm down a fraction from the heated pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to build up a lethargic pace, and Kento only groaned in approval when he watched you start to ride his thigh, his arm wrapping around you to cage you closer into him and tensing and flexing his thigh whenever rolled down and back up atop him.
One of your hands slid up to his shoulder, gripping him there as you nuzzled into his neck and followed the moments of your hand pumping his cock to the way your hips were rolling against his thigh. Your body moved in alternate pivots, long deep strokes around that taut, muscular appendage, or just circling your hips around so that your clothed clit was given the friction it so desired. He was burning in your hand, the veins throbbing and his lips pushing out every noise he could muster as you knew he wouldn’t last long; it had been far too long since you got Kento in that position and it had been far too long since had allowed himself to be laid upon a bed of pleasure. It made you sigh, legs closing around his thigh tighter as you rubbed your knee oh-so gently in a circle along his balls and had to bite your lip from moaning whenever that fucking whimper left him and made your pussy clench around nothing.
Your words drew another one of those damnable whimpers out of him, his chest all but heaving and his hips rocking desperately faster up into your hand as a silent plea for you to go faster. You only hummed in delight at his keening, peppering kisses across every inch of his face that you could and massaging your hand into the tautness along his shoulder when he seemed to melt into your touch. You could feel another thick trickle of precum ooze free from his cock, and you moved your face back into his to bring your foreheads together, a flutter erupting free inside of your pussy whenever Kento kept his eye locked onto yours, following each mouthwatering movement you gave to him and onto him and the look inside of his pupil was enough to set your entire soul ablaze from all the hues of passion bursting free like a kaleidoscope the longer he kept your gaze.
Your eyelashes fluttered when you took in his expression; kiss-swelled parted lips, his eye bright, clouded, and dilated, flustered cheeks, brow scrunched in an attractive crease, and the heavy sighs leaving his mouth as he bored his gaze over every inch of your face. It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as did knowing that he was glad to have you pleasing him like you were, but seeing his face really careened you down the path of your impending release that was growing oh-so close.
You could feel the patch of wetness you were leaving on his thigh, and you knew then that you weren’t going to last long – especially having Kento in your palm and riding off the thrill of you being in charge that time around in the throes of desire.
Kento sighed your name onto your lips, another whimper drawing free of him as his cock throbbed into his hand and his hand fell off of your nape to grip your hip and following in on your lascivious movements atop his thigh. “Please – Don’t stop.”
You kissed him before nibbling onto his bottom lip, nails beginning to dig through his shirt when each roll of your clit sent an electrifying pulse towards that knot steadily growing to its head just behind your naval. He groaned again whenever you pumped your hand faster, your knee gently caressing his balls still as you rocked yourself on his thigh before you sighed and breathily asked what you knew would tip him over the edge, “Are you gonna cum for me, Kento?”
A garbled variation of your name left him, fingers digging harder into your hip as his hips jerked up quicker in your hand and he tried his damnedest to get you to move faster – harder against his thigh, but you were giving no game for that. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the audible hard swallow he took, his eye fluttering with the heavy blinks from everything happening as his eye glazed over with the full emotion that was close to his release. “Oh, fuck – please. Please keep going.
“I know you can cum like this,” you moaned into his face, kissing him as you swallowed that whimper once more and rolled your hips harder along his tensed thigh, moving your mouth to suck at his jaw whenever his noises grew louder, “God, I know you want to, Kento. Let me see you cum like this.”
Your voice had tapered off at the end, a high-pitched moan leaving you when you pussy throbbed and clenched around nothing as you felt that ball begin to reach in end of spinning and slowly begin to unravel for a piece of nirvana you could find with him. His grunts you swallowed with your tongue, a kiss full of unbridled passion you two engaged in that he greedily accepted as you two no longer had any words to say. You both knew what was to come, and neither of you were going to be deterred to stop it.
Your neediness you were sure had him reeling, his cock throbbing excessively in your hand as you squeezed him and pumped him faster to help him reach his edge. You could feel him whimper again, a suspicious noise that vaguely sounded like him telling you he loved you before he broke away from the kiss, head falling back against the couch once more and a pleased and strained groan breaking free from his lungs to let you know he had came first. You took to kissing and tonguing at his neck, moaning and sighing your praise for him as he finally released all the pent up tension into your hand.
It was a second and then you felt his cock pulsate in your hand before it was spurting out against your shirt and hand, leaving behind warm cum in its wake. You quickly removed your hand knowing he was probably sensitive, but kept yourself securely atop his thigh rocking as he caught his breath. Kento’s chest was heaving and in the low light of your living room you were able to make a slight sheen of sweat across his forehead with his hair tussled from all your ministrations. It was enough to send you over as well, a particular slow roll of your hips up his thigh that he flexed once more and you were shuddering and twitching around him with a whine of his name as you came all over his thigh whilst throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face into his shoulder.
A hard tremor of extreme satisfaction stung from your cranium down to the tips of your toes, leaving you squirming as your shaking thighs tried to close around his own while he continued only encouraging you until you were at your very end and sagging into his awaiting arms. You were well aware you had probably soaked through pants, but you were none too caring since he didn’t seem to mind at all and at times it was a regular occurrence between you two. The soft music from before was still playing as the room became humid from your conjoined bodies, the city skyline having waned away to dark as the touch of the full moon came into play and brightened Tokyo for yet another time.
You could feel your heart pound against your ribcage while you both seemed to finally come to rest after cumming, and he was dragging your body off his own to look over you and blinking down at you like he wasn’t seeing you clearly. It was one blink, two, three, then the cloud in his eye lifted and his gaze was skating down from your face and all over the expanse of your figure, awareness coming to them when he spied the mess on your shirt and remembered that he came all over your hand, then he was bristling.   
Kento was shifting to sit up, taking precaution to not jostle you and his words coming out a low murmur, “Sorry… I’ll –”
You hushed him, placing a kiss to his lips and untangling yourself from his limbs and you stood somewhat wobbly and he reached forward to catch you by your hips to make sure you didn’t fall. You brushed out of his hands and pushed him back to sit into the couch, a soft smile on your lips before you straightened back up, “You’re okay, stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Kento was generally the one who took to cleaning you both up afterwards, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him be the one to do so that time around when you were trying to make him feel the same way he usually did with you. He had complied you with staying put as you came back from the bathroom with a few sheets of tissues, eyeing you carefully as you wiped your hand off first before tending to him. You were meticulous in the way you catered to him, dabbing at some cum stains that had gotten onto his stomach, even some spots that had spattered against his chest before tending to the lipstick stains all over him as you watched his cheeks flush from all the attention you were giving him.
You nearly wanted to giggle at his embarrassment, but held it in to not ruin the gentle moment between you two as you finished up cleaning the both of you, discarded the tissues into the trash, and crawled your way back into his lap that he was awaiting for you once more with open arms. You curled into him as his hand stroked along your back, your own hands finding way to his scars again as you absentmindedly would do at night whenever he was tremoring from a long-lost memory. Kento shuddered when you passed by that one on his side again, curling his fingers around your wrist to bring it up his lips for kiss as you pulled yourself up into his face.
“Happy Birthday,” you reminded him again, kissing his hot cheek and relishing in the soft sigh he gave, “What’d you wish for?”
You were glad to see the humor return back to his expression, his lips quirking up at the edges and his eye sliding into yours as he reached for your cheek to pinch it, “Aren’t you the one who told me not to tell you my wish? That it’ll come true if I don’t say it aloud?”
A pout fell on your lips, “That’s never stopped you before… C’mon, please? For me?”
His eye rolled back at your whining, but he was never one not to cave into your begging as his hand smoothed out against your cheek while you toyed with a strand of his hair that had curled up from sweat. His thumb brushed along your cheekbone and he made a show to slowly move his mouth back to yours, lidding his eye almost suggestively as he kissed you so delicately and murmured against your mouth so silently you had to strain to hear him.
“I wished that I could spend the rest of my birthdays with you.”
You giggled into the kiss, corny as you expected, but also giddy with the intention behind his wish as you took your hand to place it back onto his chest, fingers spread and his heart beating in sync with your own. It was enough to let him know you wished for the same, but you confirmed it verbally with a playful bite to his lip and a sigh when you embraced him and tucked him into your neck, his lips pulled into a smile something you could feel burning along your throat.
“I think we can make that work.”
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stinkygirl009 · 7 months ago
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could you maybe possibly do like.. darry x motherly sweet reader? I js love darry sm omg
A/N: THIS IS SO CUTE STOPPP😩💗💗
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Ever since Darry met y/n in high school he knew that she was gonna be the one and only for him. She was so sweet and loving towards him and this brothers it felt almost to good to be true. When mrs. Curtis first saw her, let’s just say she was the daughter she never had<3 Even before the incident happened with his parents, y/n still stuck by Darry’s side, helping out with rent and made small pastries for the gang when they would come over. Anything to at least make them feel safe. But even though she’s a total sweetheart, she can go into mommy mode REAL QUICK.
“Two-bit stop touching the chocolate cake!” Y/n swatted at Two-but with the spatula on his hand.
“Why? It’s gonna get eaten anyway!” He argued trying to grab the glass platter the cake was cooling off on. “I said no! Now go and watch Micky Mouse or something.” She said and huffed stepping in front of him to prevent him from getting the cake. He huffed and walked into the living room and sat on the couch with Steve and Soda. Johnny and Ponyboy were sitting on the ground playing poker, ever since they got back from hiding in the church they’ve been more fond of playing with the cards more often.
Y/n glanced back inside of the living room and couldn’t help but smile. She was glad everything worked out for Johnny and Pony, lord knows what could’ve happened to Johnny or pony in that happened in that church. She looked back at the table and grabs the homemade chocolate frosting that was mixed inside the bowl, and grabbed the frosting knife and got a good amount of chocolate on it and began to ice the cake. Few minutes later she was done with the cake, the sweet chocolate smell filling the house up deliciously!
“Ok, ok! get your plates ready.” She said finally with a little sigh still smiling. Two-bit and Steve race to the cake first, Ponyboy and Johnny wait until they’re done acting like a bunch of kid fighting for a toy before they would get there slice of it. Once They all got a piece a few people left due to the time, or they had other plans for tonight, which left Y/n, Soda, and Ponyboy at the house. They heard the car rumble outside the house of the familiar sound of Darry’s run down truck echoing. Y/n just finished washing the mess of dishes and bowls she used for her cake. She quickly was drying off her hand feeling slightly tired. The front door knob shook before it opened to Darry’s tired form walking through the door with a heavy sigh before his brothers welcomed him home. “Smells good in here.” Darry said tilting his head to the kitchen. He walked into the small kitchen and leaned in to see Y/n smiling and quickly walking up to him. His hand falling on their usual resting place on her hips. Pulling her in with a grin on his face.
“Hi, darlin’” he says with the sound of love lacing his voice, making her weak in the knees. “Hi, Darrell.” She said, her hands traveling to the back of his head, her nails massaging his scalp slightly and pulling his head against hers, both of them excepting comfort from each other. “Missed you s’much.” Y/n mumbled quietly her eyes shutting trying to keep the intimate moment for longer. “Missed you too.”
After Darry got ready for bed she got into pajamas y/n had already stored inside Darry’s drawers. This being one of the days that you can stay over at the Curtis house, for the weekends. She finished getting ready, she got under the covers turning on her side to turn off the lamp on the bedside table on Darry’s side of the bed and let out a soft sigh and glanced at the open door that showed Darry, and Soda talking in the living room. Before she thought about it more, she pulled the warm covers over her body, immediately relaxing at the warmth of Darry’s blankets. Y/n closed her eyes for a moment too long, and felt the bed dipping beside her making her jolt awake again. “Sorry, sweetheart.” Darry said turning his head back towards her, and brought his hand to her face gently. “It’s f’ine.” She slurred tiredly. He smiled softly at her state, and sat up slightly trying to wake herself up fully. He used his hand to bring her back down to the bed again. “You don’t need to get up.”
“Well then, get into bed faster!”
He wanted to finish getting things getting finished inside the house, but he knew that he would be exhausted in the morning but with a job well done. “Don’t overwork, please.” She said almost like he was an open book. “Come on-“
Y/n pulling him down towards her, bringing him into a much needed kiss. Lips moving against each other going deeper each time. He relaxed into the soft and gentle embrace from her, making his whole body into putty.
“Just relax tonight, yea?” She broke the kiss, looking into his blue-ish green eyes, convincingly.
“Jus’ tonight, Darlin’.”
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stil-lindigo · 9 months ago
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You'r eunder no obligation to reply but I'd like to ask, how do you keep your head up these days considering the genocide? It's been nearly five months now, my entire family is giving up the stirke and falling into propoganda, and every time i think "surely this is the end, no way the us will keep supporting this, israel is on limited time" i keep seeing no end in my twitter feed to the countless losses, i keep seeing gore and childrens butchered on my tiktok. i dont wanna lose hope or faith but ive started feeling so depressed these days that i dont even wanna open my social media because i know what ill see. it might sound selfish but i hope i can open up my tiktok and see silly little people doing trends again instead of seeing one between 6 posts asking to use filters so that they can donate and detailing the necessities that israel banned from palestine and it just feels so soul crushing and hopeless. it makes me feel worse because if im tired of it then how do palestanians cope being in it? if you have any tips or good news id be grateful
hi anon. A lot of what Palestinians report first-hand is graphic, and horrifying, and would contribute to that soul-crushing feeling. But they are so tenacious, they have so much love for their people, their country. Often, Bisan or Motaz or Plestia when she was still in Gaza will share little slices of joy from displaced Palestinians. It reinvigorates me, and I'll often return to watch them when things seem dire.
A baby in Gaza, blessedly unaware of the horrors. Look at that smile!
A Palestinian mother makes donuts for her children, and offers Bisan one as she prepares for an interview. She (the mother) talks about how she makes treats like this to try to cheer up her children, how she keeps herself busy like this so she can't feel the grief of the situation. It is expensive to buy firewood these days, and flour. At her side, her children chip away at a block of wood to help her.
if you'd like to support people like this family, donate to CareforGaza, which directly distributes supplies and money to families in need. They have stopped donations to their Gofundme campaign due to overwhelming support, but you can still donate via the paypal link in their bio.
Young Palestinians parkour in the ruins of Gaza, to show that Israeli bombing will not kill their spirits.
Mo, a Palestinian man, buys cat food after searching for two days straight, and feeds the stray cats in Gaza.
Palestinian children at a refugee camp filming a cute video.
Although they've lost their home, a Palestinian family gather to celebrate their youngest child's birthday, complete with a small cake and a birthday hat.
Bisan makes bread in Khan Younis.
Palestinians celebrate the birthday of an injured girl in hospital, with a small cake. One of them has dressed up as a clown.
After losing 22 members of his family and being injured in a bombardment, a Palestinian man named Mohammed Al Ghandour marries his fiance in a tent.
A Palestinian journalist plays with a baby who survived an airstrike.
@/nisreendiary on TikTok documents the process of making fresh bread in a tent in a calming video.
I got most of these off twitter, from this thread. Twitter is a hellscape at the best of times, but the easy communication it provides is a blessing. I'll try to share more of the good news here, as they pop up. In the future, I recommend you follow Eye on Palestine, or Al Jazeera if you'd like to stay informed on the situation in Gaza with minimal scrolling.
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axelsagewrites · 7 months ago
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Hello. First of all love your writing. <3
I have a request for you:
can you write a robb stark x reader maybe reader is a ward of the starks and the two have been engaged and best friends since childhood. Then the wedding comes and the reader is nervous and afraid of the wedding night
thank you
Robb Stark*Goodnight Dear Husband
Pairing: Robb Stark x f!reader
Word count: 1594
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Warnings: insecurity, worrying about sex, (brief)motherhood, marriage
Masterlist here
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you still remember the first night you spent at Winterfell. The day had been so fun. Catelyn gave you a tour of the castle, Ned let you try pick up his sword Ice which you could barely even lift the handle, Jon taught you how to sneak into the kitchens. You even remember meeting Robb.
He was a lanky boy, seven to your six. His knees were knobbly, and his curly hair could barely be controlled no matter how much his mother tried. Freckles scattered his cheeks and there was a shy smile on his chapped lips. “Welcome my lady,” he greeted with a shaky bow which was matched with your own wonky curtsey.
“I like your horse,” he said, pointing to the stuffed animal in your hand. A wide smile beamed onto your face at that, “Would you like to meet my horse? You can ride him if you’d like,” and within moments of arriving you were already fast friends. You didn’t even know you were to marry him yet.
The day was fun but tiring at that. there was a small feast of stew and honey cakes to welcome you however you were relieved to be shown to your room. It was only a corridor away from Robb’s and next to the young Sansa’s and Arya’s.
The bed practically consumed you as you clambered in, snuggling into the furs to try get away from the nipping cold. You watched as the candle flame began to waver just as a wolf howled. Your hands clutched the furs in fear before bravely reaching out to grab your horse.
But it wasn’t there.
You’d left it at the feast. How could you be so foolish? You gently began to sniffle, soft tears falling when you realised you were alone, and the light was nearly out, and you didn’t know where they kept the spare candles. Then there was a knock at the door.
You quickly jumped out of bed, running to the door encase your parents had come to tell you it was time to go home. Instead stood a boy with knobbly knees and unkempt curls holding a stuffed horse. “You forgot this. Were you crying?”
“No,” you sniffled, snatching the horse from his hands, “Its just dusty in here,” Robb nodded, biding goodnight and turning to leave when you grabbed his wrist, “Wait! I-I,” you stammered, “I don’t know where the candles are,” you mumbled.
Robb, no longer even slightly shy, strode into the room, fetching them from a drawer and quickly lighting more for you. “How’s that?”
“Perfect. And thank you,” you said, smiling softly at the boy, a yawn overcoming you again.
“Do you want me to tuck you in?” he offered as you began to clamber into bed, “Its what my mum does when I’m scared,”
“I’m not scared,” you pouted, pulling the covers over yourself, “You can. If you want to. Its up to you,” you said, silently hoping he would which he instantly did. Robb tucked you in, kissing your forehead before turning to leave, “Night Robbie,”
“Night, night,”
-
You were pacing your room so much you wondered if you might wear a hole in the stone floor. Your wedding dress was folded perfectly in a chest by the foot of your bed. There was a box on top of it with your families crest on a broach your parents had gifted you as well as a Stark amulet from Ned and Cat. It also had hair pins, carefully selected by Sansa from the market and a silver ring with a red stone from Robb.
Everything was as it was supposed to be. You were to marry Robb and officially become a Stark. Yet for some reason your corset felt so tight you could hardly breathe despite how lose it was. Your mind was running over drive as your pacing struggled to keep up.
There was a soft knock on the door. You rushed over, flinging it open despite the late hour, to be greeted by your soon to be husband, “Robbie,” you almost gasped, “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you,” he said, coming in without having to ask, “Who were you expecting?”
“No one,” you lied, biting your lip in the way that made Robb raise an eyebrow. “Jon said he’d sneak me some honey cakes after cook went to bed,”
Robb chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair off your face. “You look so pretty,” despite him saying it a hundred times you still felt the butterflies dancing in your stomach.
“You wanna come in?” you asked.
He didn’t need to be told twice and soon you were sat on your bed, your legs over his and your head on his shoulder. It was a peaceful silence. It should have been relaxing but soon your mind began to wonder.
You were to be married tomorrow. There was a gorgeous white dress waiting for you, jewels to match, a new name and title. You were going to move into Robb’s room, be his wife, his comfort, his relief. In all ways soon.
Despite loving Robb, a rarity in marriage, you couldn’t help being scared. Sure, he was attractive, stunning even, and its not like you hadn’t had thoughts about it before but suddenly the wedding night was dawning on you.
Its not like you didn’t want to have sex. From what you had done with Robb you knew it would be good. great even. Orgasmic hopefully. But the idea of it made you tense. Something Robb soon noticed.
“You, okay?” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.
“Yeah, just thinking,” you mumbled as you picked at your fingers, “Just you know. Wedding stuff,”
“You don’t sound too excited sweetheart,” he pouted, tightening his arms around you, “C’mon you can tell me,”
You sighed before moving to face him, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were so filled with care you could drown in them. “Just worried about what comes next,”
“Kids?” he asked, eyebrows scrunched up.
“No! well now I am but still,” you sighed, closing your eyes so you could finally say the right words, “What if I’m not good at it?” you said, emphasizing the last word making a small oh come from his mouth. “I know it’s stupid- “
“It’s not stupid sweetheart,” he hushed, his hands moving to gently squeeze yours, “But trust me you’ll be good at it,” he chuckled.
“What if I don’t do it right?”
“We’ll figure it out,”
“What if I don’t like it?”
“Then we’ll stop,”
“What if you don’t think I look good?”
“That’s not physically possible,” he said, tilting your chin up with two fingers to give you a soft kiss with his cheeky smile. It quickly turned into a softer face, “Besides we don’t have to do it just because we can,”
You sighed, “I know you want too then,”
Robb shuffled, almost pulling away making you sit up. His shoulders deflated as he sighed, “Of course I want to love. But only if you do. I don’t want to have sex with some girl just because I can. I wanna be with you,” he said, taking your hands, “because I love you,” he managed to get a small smile out of you making him grin, “And because you’re sexy as fuck,”
“Shut up,” you laughed, smacking at his chest, “You can’t blame me for being worried,”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m nervous too,” he admitted making you laugh a little, “What?”
You shrugged, your eyes wandering over him, “Just never imagined you not all confident and suave. Besides you don’t need to be nervous. You’re perfect,” your hand moved to cup his jaw, your thumb running over his cheek bone.
Robb pulled your legs over his lap, pulling you into his side. “That’s how I feel about you. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen or whatever,” he rambled, taking your hands in his, “We’ll do it together and we’ll go slow. I never want to hurt you,”
“And I never wanna lose you,” you said squeezing his hands
“Good,” he said, leaning forward to kiss your lips gently, “Because you’re stuck with me,” you leaned in to return the kiss which started slow and gentle, but a shiver ran down your spine when his hand moved to rest on your hip. Your glorious make out was interrupted by a knock at the door.
It quickly opened just as you and Robb were pulling apart, “Gross,” Jon muttered as he closed the door behind him. “Also, sorry cook was up late tonight getting ready for the wedding,” he said as he handed you the wrapped goods, “speaking of. You.” He said, pointing a finger at Robb, “get to bed. I haven’t been covering for you two for you to get busted in her bed the night before so get,”
Robb sighed as he dragged himself away from you, giving one last peck before he had to go and before Jon would hit him. “And you,” Jon said as he now pointed his finger to you, “Get your beauty sleep. You need it,” he said with a tilted smile making Robb hit him and you laugh.
“Your one to talk now beat it. a lady needs her rest,”
“Uhuh,” Jon said, rolling his eyes but quickly wishing goodnight. He pretended not to notice Robb giving you a goodnight kiss and instead waited in the hall.
“I’ll see you tomorrow love wife even,” he grinned.
“Goodnight, dear husband,”
“Goodnight sweet wife,”
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