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POPE CODY:
Pope finds a clean $100 bill from his latest job with his brothers and lays it onto the dresser where you’re squirming around. He kneels down, his eyes wide and sweet and laser focused on your every move. “My sweet girl—how did this happen?” You can’t answer. You are a worm. Pope tries to brush your worm body onto the surface of the Benjamin, but he knows he can’t use his thick fingers without fear of squishing you. “It’s okay, baby. You can do it… squirm onto the money. There you go, baby. Good job. I’m so proud of you.” He carefully raises you into the air and slides you (and the money) into a perfectly washed out jar that used to be filled with peanut butter. He’s filled it with dirt and grass and pretty rocks; he’s poked holes in the lid so air can fill your little worm lungs. “You’ll be safe here. I love you, baby. I’m gonna figure this out. Figure out how to get you back.”
TITUS DANFORTH:
“Where have you gone, my little pet? Hiding from me?” Titus flings the bedsheets in an exaggerated huff. You’ve played his version of ‘Hide N Seek’ before, and he always finds you, giggling somewhere in the room, unable to contain your desire for him to locate you. Because when he discovers you, it always leads to your other favorite game to play with Titus—where he devours you in bed, making you writhe in pleasure. Your worm body wriggles across the night stand, hoping Titus will see you and realize it’s you, his little pet. He tosses a pillow across the room in frustration, shattering the glass of water that was occupying the space right next to you. A maid rushes into the room without knocking, “Sir?” —”OUT!”. The door slams shut. Titus strides over to where you are and sits on the edge of the bed observing the mess he’s made. “Fuck—where is she?” He pounds his fists into the mattress and just as he’s about to sweep the glass shards onto the floor, he catches the movement of you desperately trying to get his attention. “No—I don’t believe it… it can’t be.” It is. Titus places his hand onto the table and you use all of your little worm strength to crawl on his calloused finger. He brings you eye level, careful to not move quickly so you don’t fall. “My little pet. I knew I’d find you. I always do. It appears we must go see Mr. Le Bail to discuss how to remedy this little predicament.”
JACK ABBOT:
Dr. Jack Abbot is a man of science, of practicality. But after dating him for as long as you have, you also know him to be a believer of soulmates and small miracles. So when you wake up in the middle of the night and realize you’ve turned into a small miracle worm, you’re not discouraged. You’re hopeful. After a long night shift, Jack comes back to your shared house the morning of your wormification and sits down on the entryway bench. “Babe? You awake?” He rubs his eyes in exhaustion, a yawn escaping his mouth. The kitchen is usually filled with the scent of his favorite coffee brewing but he notices the air is stagnant. As he drops his hands to his thighs, he catches movement on the bench next to him. The smallest, cutest worm he’s ever seen is inching towards him with such precision and dedication- he knows immediately that it’s you. “Oh my—what—sweetheart!” You crawl onto his finger which he so thoughtfully placed in your path, feeling relief after your treacherous journey all the way from the bedroom. “You’ve really taken this whole thing a little too far, don’t you think?" He tsks. "I mean, of course I still love you—but you didn’t have to actually turn into a worm.” He kisses the thumb of his other hand and gently places it on your little worm body. “What am I gonna do with you, babe? Gonna have to carry you around with me everywhere I go. Only way to keep you safe.”