#… and there is still so much satisfaction in seeing the scale going down

[dropsnectar]

Your Puppy Siren!: When a Siren Gets his Legs

M!Siren x gn!reader

NSFW

You had just moved into your aunt's summer house. It was a lovely place with its own private beach. You had been excited to go on a morning swim when, on one of the rocks by the shore, you found him. He was covered in grey skin and scales that shone sea blue in the sunlight. He scared you at first, causing you to run away, but you had made the mistake of tripping over your own bag before inhaling a mouthful of sand.

This seemed to amuse the creature as it laughed lightly at you. He continued to stay at his rock and raised his hands. He made quiet keening sounds, as if to sooth you. You had to admit it worked. You had never heard such a lovely sound before coming from a creature. Something about the texture of it made your heart flutter.

You kept your distance but tried to speak with him. He didn’t reply, but made gestures to your hair, which you had been growing long lately. He made the gesture again and let out a long beautiful sound. Was he? Complimenting your hair?  

You put your hand to your heart and smiled. He seemed to get the gist because he sang out a low relaxing serenade. The two of you went on like this for an hour. Eventually, you felt brave enough to rummage through your bag for a tuna fish sandwich. Slowly, you made your way towards the creature, showed you ripping off a piece of your sandwich, and taking a bite. You ripped off another piece and handed it to him.

His fingers ghosted around yours as he took the food, his skin was cool. 

He took a hesitant bite, before finishing it off in one go. He seemed to like it as he reached his hand out for more. You moved closer, sitting on the other side of his rock. When you handed him the last piece he put one of his hands on top of yours. He carefully took the sandwich from your fingers and brought it to your lips, gesturing for you to open your mouth. You did so, and the merman warbled gleefully, popping it in. As you chewed, he watched your mouth with interest.

When you had finished the sandwich, he was still humming, his feelings of satisfaction evident by his tones. He moved closer to you and pointed to his mouth, then to you. You wiped your mouth instinctively but he pouted. Carefully, he leaned forward, and pressed his lips to yours. They tasted salty. Your face heated and you put a hand on his scaled shoulder. He slipped a textured tongue into your mouth and you moaned around him, leaning your body flush against him.

You were surprised by the fire of the kiss. You felt needy and desperate almost immediately. There was something about his tongue that felt like fireworks and when he pulled away, how he nudged your forehead with his own was so cute. Except for the static shock that shot through your forehead. That hurt like a bitch.

You swore and shot away from his face, eyes hazy. 

“Don't move too much, you could fall!” A worried voice chirped toward you. You looked up to see the merman leaning over you with concern.

“You… you can talk?” You whispered. He gave you a lopsided grin and hummed a lovely little serenade. After a moment, he continued. “I didn't before. But you gave me enough of your mind for a moment so I could learn! Now I can speak as well as you!”

“Like, Merman magic or something.”

He laughed and pulled you closer to him again. 

“What an adorable thing to say. We do have types of magic, though I will admit, its more of an instinctual sort.”

He leaned toward you and started leaning down, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder. His other hand hand reached around your waist, holding you close to his cool body. Honestly, his scales felt nice under the heat of the sun. You leaned into him as he hummed. 

“You're voice is beautiful Mr. Mermaid.” You mentioned a bit shyly. He beamed at you with eyes that stared a little too hard.

“I'm a Siren actually! But you were close! Mermaids don't come to shore often, so I hope you don't have the misfortune of running into one.”

He started playing with your hair happily. He was very affectionate, this Siren. 

“Aren't Sirens… you know. Supposed to eat people?” You said, somewhat at a whisper. He paused in disbelief for a second and bit his lip, revealing sharp teeth. 

“While you look particularly scrumptious, we don't tend to eat humans. Though if I was traveling with my pod, our song could capture a good shark or a whale that would feed us for quite a while. Not that a perfectly spiteful Siren couldn't do it.” 

He kept answering your questions, the whole time refusing to let his hands leave you. You had to admit, after that kiss, it had really flustered you. But your curiosity won out. Eventually, it grew dark and you told your new… friend? That you would need to head home as it was getting too dark for you to see.

“All this talking and I don't know your name.” 

He looked at you with quirked brows. “You wouldn't be able to pronounced it with your human tongue, but… you can call me Baby. Yes. That will fit perfectly.”

Heat filled your cheeks. “Baby? You should know thats more of an endearement then an actual name…” 

“We have been talking all day. Are we not close to each other now?” He made a dramatic face of disappointment. 

“Please call me Baby. I like that name. I will answer to nothing else.” His tone was final. 

Seeing that he would not budge, you acquiesced. He begged you to come visit him the next day, and you did. In fact, you visited him every chance you got. You had him try different human food, and the two of you had even set up a book reading arrangement. It seemed his language magic also stretched to written language.

You loved listening to his voice. Whether he was warbling or using his human pitch, it always gave you a little pep. 

He continued to glue himself to you, hands always wandering. He'd wrap them around your waist, massage your shoulders, and hold your hand every chance he got. Whenever you called to him, he would look at you pointedly, waiting in earnest until you said what he wanted to hear.

“Baby.” You'd sigh, and he'd keen and be merry for the rest of your conversation. He was so earnest, it was adorable.

Today though, something was different. Summer was starting to transition to fall. You didn't know how but you knew he would have to leave. Your sweet little Siren couldn't stay with you forever.

He finally confirmed this himself.

“The water is getting too cold for me. Ill have to return to my pod soon.” 

“I'll miss you.” You admitted, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cool air swept up.

He looked at you with such longing, his face leaning closer to yours. 

“May I kiss you?”

You paused a moment, eyes staring into his heated gaze and pretty mouth. You nodded, and he pounced on you, crushing his lips to yours. You stayed like that for a while. As you started to moan he started to hum into you, a beautiful noise that filled you with hope and flooded your core.

“Are you putting a spell on me Mr. Mermaid?” You teased, head getting dizzy as he started rubbing the gap between your swim shirt and swim trunks. His mouth ghosted over your neck now, and he was starting to hump at your thigh with his tail his eyes lidded. 

“Thats not my name.” He pouted, pulling down your trunks, airing you out for him and the ocean to see. 

“Baby.” you breathed out, pushing his head down to your most sensitive area, and skimming the place that made you moan best with your fingers. He grinned happily, and started to experiment, his rough fingers drawing circles around you. Eventually, you started to leak. This seemed to surprise Baby. It made sense, as he lived in water.

“It means I feel good.” You admitted bashfully. He experimentally touched the fluid with his finger and brought it up to his mouth. He made a low trilling sound, his eyes changing color. You had never seen that before. He pushed you down onto the sand, and started sucking you down. As you chocked out in pleasure he continued. You felt that familiar live wire feeling, buried beneath all the sensation he was giving you and you knew he was using that magic of his. For what you didn't know. 

He started to sing, the vibrations of it echoing through you and you jerked manically. He kept itup, singing the most beautiful tune. It was full of lust and need and want and as you looked down at him you could see his tail was humping a hole into the sand beneath him. You hoped it felt good, as you could see something had emerged from his tail, a curved, ocean blue cock. You couldn't make out much else as he sucked you down hard again, causing waves of pleasure to crash through you.

“Am I making you feel good?” You could tell he was looking for praise. 

“So good. You've been such a good boy-- ah!” He had chosen that moment to pump two of his slick fingers into you, gently tracing your spongy walls. You jerked some more, feeling you were close.

“Baby, mmm Baby so good.” You drooled out as he experimented with tracing a certain spot inside you, driving you mad. 

He was singing again as you came, his voice making your core even hotter, like it always did.

“Wanna breed you. Can i?” He was looking at you from under his blue grey lashes. You nodded, but frowned, as he was slowing his pumping. You felt your tension recede and you whined out, nose wrinkling.

“Please! Take me!” You finally gave in and his lips quirked up in triumph as he pulled himself up to mount you and thrust inside. 

You both choked out, his groans going from human to inhuman, as he made little chirping and warbling sounds, drool dripping down his chin. He pumped himself into you, slowly at first. Their was a strange sensation and you realized he was growing inside you. Longer, his ridges were more pronounced and it felt divine.

“You feel so-mmmnn.” He was singing again, and this time it had magic to it. It was like some invisible force had invaded your mind, scratching an itch you never knew you had. You groaned out as you came hard around his cock, the feeling so delicious you didn't even know if you were breathing. You were just sensation and pleasure and you knew he was using his magic, he couldn't help it, you just felt so good and that's what sirens did.

You didn't know how you could comprehend all this as you came but you continued to ride out your high. Baby was so sex drunk he was grinning at you as he keened.

“Nothing… has felt… as good as you!” His strokes were  faster now, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. Something was different, but your hazy mind couldn't understand what, you just kept coming. 

And then he came, his seed hot inside you. Baby was so cute, his breath shaky as he leaning over you, finally collapsing onto your body. He was silent now for the first time your whole session.

“I love you.” He said, as easy as if he was stating the weather. Then he sat up and crossed his legs.

His legs?? 

This seemed as much as a surprise to him as you. 

“This is perfect.” He breathed, wiggling his new toes. “Now I’ll never have to be without you again!”

***

Siren magic is so interesting, maybe ill write a part two? 

(Future Nectar here, I did a part 2!)

Part Two

[magnus-and-the-dragon]

I’m 5 lbs away from being under 200 lbs for the first time in my adult life, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

[greeneyessmize]

Today's thoughts are of the youth of Penelope & Colin and how it affects their relationship, specifically: how they fight.

Penelope is maybe 20 at most. Colin is perhaps 23.

They are also a part of the upper class. This allows them essentially a longer childhood in some ways for the era. They are emotionally pretty on par with a somewhat shy and sheltered 18 year old today who has never had a relationship and a 20 year old college kid who was also a bit hiddenly shy but has dated around a bit.

This means that neither of them have ever had to compromise on a larger, but intimate, and more important scale.

They don't know how to fight from a place of common goal. This is what they have to learn together.

I am going into detail with how this affects multiple scenes, so here is a cut for everyone. :)

Pen & Colin only know fighting with siblings, parents, friends, and enemies. So they know fight against, not fight for.

Penelope specifically only knows how to fight by false retreat and full opposition.

Her false retreat is seen most clearly in her use of Lady Whistledown. This is where she cocoons herself outwardly but lets her anger fly using precisely cloaked arrows. Her LW comments on Colin's fakeness upon his return to Mayfair showed a lethal strike.

Her full opposition fights are seen in her arguments with Eloise, both over her yelling that yes she does want to be married some day and then when Eloise confronted her about being LW, and then in her fights with Colin over LW.

When she and Colin fight in the middle of the street the night before their wedding, Pen goes full opposition, even going up on the high step to put her on the same level as Colin as much as possible. She does not retreat, she does not shrink. She goes conflict blow to conflict blow with him. She apologizes but does not bend or break. There is no compromise to be found because they are fighting against, not for. As one raises their voice, the other matches. There will not be a winner, but they don't know that.

Colin's fighting styles are either full shutdown, or like Pen, full opposition.

His full opposition fight with Pen in the middle of the street shows that he also will not back down. Each thing Pen says, he counters until she loudly declares the one thing he can't refute: that she loves him.

You also see that he is unwilling to compromise in his full shutdowns. He won't even try to talk to Pen after they are married during the nights and mornings where he places himself on the settee. He doesn't know how to say what he desperately needs to express to her in any constructive way. So. He stays on the settee, as close as he can to Pen, but unable to engage with her.

When she tries to engage with him, like at the review of the wedding breakfast planning, and it is she who makes the majority of the attempts, Colin still only knows how to go full opposition and/or full shutdown. Pen tries to answer him honestly when he asks if she will end LW because she really doesn't know. But since he can't give her grace to understand her on this... It only leads to more teary eyes and more distance.

On their wedding day, their tenuous truce after the middle of the street argument is broken in their fight after the Queen's threats. Here we see Penelope go full opposition and proclaim clearly and for the first time that she is Whistledown. And then Colin ultimately reacts with full shutdown, saying he will sleep on the sofa/settee.

The morning after their wedding, Colin is teary-eyed, taking tea fully dressed on the settee where he clearly spent the night. He leaves Penelope abruptly while she is still undressed for the day, intending to leave her out of his plans for the day. He definitely saw she was upset by this. I do wonder if that gave him a bit of dark satisfaction.

When Penelope comes to Bridgerton House to inform Colin of Cressida's blackmailing, Penelope gives way when Colin focuses his full opposition towards Cressida instead of her. Granted it takes a few times of being ignored, but she doesn't yell and ultimately lets it go. You can see that it hurts her to let Colin disregard her wishes, but she still ultimately allows it until he messes it all up. In this debacle they both learned to step back from full opposition between each other.

Penelope realized that even when it does not end well, sometimes she must let Colin have his way. Colin realized that not listening to Pen is where mistakes are made. Neither of them are yelling anymore.

Then comes the day of Francesca and John's wedding. It's not until she doesn't give him the reaction he thinks he wants that morning, as he is forlornly laying on the settee... that we see a shift. She does not react with regret or sadness or pain or anger. Pen is calm, cool, collected. She says she will spare him the confined shared carriage to Bridgerton House. She breezes out of his reach while he is still processing this new development.

Colin takes an important step by going to reread all of Penelope's letters. This is something he did not do in anger. He did this so he could gain perspective. This is his realization that full shutdown is ineffective and is not doing anything he wants or needs.

Penelope also is taking a step forward. She recognizes that false retreat and cloaked attacks are only increasing her own damage. She appeals to Colin with earnestness and honesty after the wedding of Francesca & John. She and he both refrain from moving into full opposition fighting this time. They are listening to each other. Colin asks what Penelope needs from him. She answers with everything he has needed to hear. He tells her what he needs, she listens. They are looking at a common goal. She moves forward with her plan to confess to the queen.

Then after her confession to the Ton at the Butterfly Ball, Penelope does the one thing for Colin that she can think of to heal the wounds of their fighting: she offers to let him go.

This is not something either of them ever wanted. But Penelope offers it because she truly feels, that with their very little communication through this, that Colin must want freedom from her. She cannot see through the pain they have inflicted on one another.

Colin immediately recognizes that now is the moment he must say everything in his heart. He has a moment of panic, of potential loss. Through everything he has always wanted and loved Penelope. He just had no idea how to show it while he was also angry. But now he has let go of his anger, and he will deal with it better should it happen that he is angry again.

Colin does what he needs to most. He tells her everything he is feeling. They are honest with each other. They have their common goal. They won the fights together.

[iluvapplesxh]

⧽⧽Time Slows⧼⧼

❀ pair: billie eilish x fem!reader

✰ summary: Nothing you did ever seemed to be enough, and you felt helpless, falling down lower with each passing moment without help, but all you needed was Billie. She'll always be there. And she'll help you back up whenever.

✯ warnings: eating disorders, cursing, vomit, bulimia, purging, I beg you, if any of this triggers you do not read, comfort, !ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

✒ a/n: I love writing requests sm. Also, I recommend listening to this song, sets the mood lol. still kinda feel like I didn't give this request my all but 🤷‍♀️.

Aren’t you hungry?

Have you eaten yet?

Didn’t you also skip lunch?

Haven’t you eaten already?

Again?

Nothing was ever good enough, you guessed. If you ate, it was too much. If you didn’t, it wasn’t enough. Nothing seemed to satisfy the people around you, or yourself either.  You tried everything, you worked out religiously for weeks, nothing, you did several stupid diets, nothing, you distracted yourself from your boredom, but not long enough to not go out for a snack. Then another one. And even though your chest felt heavier and heavier with each bite, you didn’t stop the routine. Not when the bites became harder to swallow with the tightness of your throat while your eyes burned with tears.

So, this was your last resort. Eating, rushing to the bathroom and making it all come back up.

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t the right way to do this and it will probably do more damage than good, both to your mental and physical health, but it felt too good. The numbers on the scale flying down, seeing your body shrink, feeling a sense of satisfaction when you stood in front of the mirror and the lines of our ribs stared back at you with a manipulative grin, hearing the people around you say those words.

Wow, look at you! You’ve lost so much weight!

Damn, you look so much better like this. No offense.

(...)

Right. No offense but every time you even dared to think about food the thought of losing this newfound satisfaction, the compliments, pushed right back against it and somehow always won. You knew you were a goner when you’d eat, and you wouldn’t even have to try to make yourself gag on your fingers for it to come back up, you just had to be fast enough to run to the bathroom and it came right back up without argument.

And, somehow, you didn’t stop there. Not until the compliments turned into small frowns of concern and worried words.

I don’t think losing weight that fast is healthy.

Hey, you okay? You seem pale.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Your head snapped up from the spot you were staring at, eyes locking with your girlfriend’s worry-filled blue ones and you shot her a confused look. 

“You haven’t touched your food” Billie spoke again, her own hand had stopped mid-air, holding a fork with her food on it. You blinked and looked around the table briefly, seeing the worried gazes of Billie’s family.

Of course, when you had started this addictive ‘habit’ of yours, you didn’t exactly think about what would happen in a public setting. With people who actually cared about you, and had been there to try to soothe you with assuring words when they picked up on your sudden weight loss, which you excused to ‘gym exercises became efficient’ to ease their worry. 

And when Billie excitedly invited you to have dinner with her family for her brother’s birthday party or something, she hadn’t really explained, but the way her eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of having dinner with her loved ones after such tiring long weeks of press and work, you just couldn’t form a proper excuse.

You cleared your throat and glanced down at your still full plate of…something. Then you looked into Billie’s eyes again and sighed before sending her a comforting smile. “Oh, yeah. I guess I got lost in thought, huh.” Chuckling half-heartedly, you straightened up and held your own fork firmer, gathering some of the food on it.

Billie’s eyes burned onto your form, watching with furrowed brows as your hand shook the slightest bit when it grasped at the fork, or how your eyes clouded with something of a fearful look while your eyes watched your own movements. 

Your hand slowly lifted and brought the cutlery up to your lips. You swallowed your saliva harshly before your mouth opened and you placed the metal against your tongue, the food sliding off the fork before you pulled it away. A sudden sick feeling in your stomach almost made you spit it right back out but you swallowed with a hum, smiling at Billie.

Her eyes narrowed in skepticism as she watched you eat and swallow the small amount of food, the paleing skin of your face contracting for a mere second before the smile took over, but Billie caught it and her heart sped up.

She’s been watching you, like a hawk since you started to lose the ‘extra’ weight you thought didn’t make you any more beautiful than anyone else. She knew you had struggles, but didn’t want to push when she didn’t have anything to reason with. She also just didn’t want to believe her own head. She wanted it to not be true, but when you suddenly got up literally not even five minutes later and rushed towards the bathroom, it was the last straw and she quickly bolted after you, face etched with worry and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she neared the bathroom.

She pulled the door open and when the sounds of gagging and coughs between groans hit her ears, her pulse picked up as well as her steps. The moment she reached the stall with the door wide open and her eyes fell on your hunched over figure, her own face paled and a small gasp left her lips before she hurriedly marched forward, hands gathering the silky strands of your hair and one of them held it in a makeshift ponytail while the other rubbed your back.

When you finally stopped gagging and coughing, her gaze dropped to the toilet bowl and her chest tightened at the sight of the small food you’ve just eaten, drenched with the acids of your obviously empty stomach and she felt herself getting sick before she tore her gaze away and helped you up, catching you when your feet gave you and guiding your body to the sinks.

“Come on, baby. Let's wash your face” She whispered sweetly, letting you lean against the marble sink with one of her arms still around your torso and the hand of the other reaching to open the tap. Her fingers shook as she held her hand under the streaming water before she lifted it up to your face, wiping it gently. She repeated the action but her hand stopped on your cheek when she felt hot tears hit her cold hands. 

Her eyes met your blurry ones and she shushed you tenderly, but her own heart stung in her chest when your head dropped. She shook her head and tilted your head back up with her hand still on your cheek. 

“I’m-...I’m so sorry, Billie. I-...” A choke cut you off and Billie quickly turned the tap off, pulling you into her. Your chin rested on her shoulder as her arms circled your trembling body. She held back her own tears when your waist felt strangely small and a shaky breath left her.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Shh, shh” One of her hands moved up to your head, caressing your hair gently.

It took a while for your sobs to die down, and even when they did, you stayed clinging to Billie while her arms held you tightly. Guilt was all you felt. For eating, for vomiting, for lying to Billie, for not talking to her.

“Can you look at me, please?” Her voice was soft and melodic against your ear and you reluctantly pulled back enough for your eyes to meet and yours welled with tears again at the look in Billie’s. She shook her head and shushed you again, rubbing your sides with her hands. “Talk to me, baby. I need you to tell me what is it you’re feeling” 

You swallowed, feeling your throat dry up when you tried to speak. “I-...” You started, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment before letting go. “I’m tired, Billie.” Your voice cracked mid-through her name and you took a deep breath. “I-...I’m so fucking tired of everything. I-...I want to be perfect, so bad, and I’ve tried and tried but nothing is ever fucking enough” You pulled further away and rubbed your face with your hands. “I’m hungry, then I’m sick and guilty and then I’m crying and I’m exhausted. I don’t want to live like this” You spoke, sadness and desperation laced into your voice like venom. “I just want to be normal and pretty and not hating myself but the more ‘satisfied’ I become from…this, the lower I fall and it feels like I can’t get myself up no matter what” 

Billie listened with a small frown on her face, her throat burning as she felt the need to cry crawl up in it. She didn’t want this for you. She didn’t want you to feel like this. Like you weren’t enough. It was a really big, harsh punch to the gut and she felt like she failed as a girlfriend because how were the signs not obvious? How did she push her worry away for you so easily? 

She reached out again, her soft, now warm hands cradling your face and your breathing calmed. “I know, I know” Billie murmured in a small voice, pulling your body close to hers again. “I’m so fucking sorry for not getting you up when you fell down the first time, baby.” Her own voice cracked this time and your lips parted, ready to speak but she shushed you. “I’m here now, okay? And I’m gonna help you back up. I promise, I’m not going anywhere, love” 

Your eyes brinked with tears again and a lump formed in your throat as you nodded. A small, whispered ‘Thank you’ left your lips in a choked back manner and the feeling of Billie’s forehead leaning against yours made the chaos in your head still for that moment. 

“I love you. So fucking much and I’ll never leave you alone again, you hear me?” 

All you could do was nod again, but that was more than enough for her. You were more than enough for her. And that was all that mattered. You would learn to not care about being enough for anyone else, because the only person who really mattered was here and she was holding you. There was no fucking way she’d ever let you go again.

✒ a/n: so I do feel like I didn't quite capture the meaning and the seriousness of an ed but I want you to know that if you are going through of any kind I love you and it's going to be okay, even when everything around you tells you otherwise <3

REQUESTS OPEN ♡

[genderfluid-insomniac]

“Poor Unfortunate Soul Reprise” octopus hybrid!Scaramouche x reader nsfw

A/N: picture for reference of Cecaelia the actual term for the myth being (male reference). Sorry this took so long it was collecting dust in my folder for a while due to cliche AO3 author shit but I hope you enjoy!

You couldn’t tell how much time has passed but what you do know is you’re sore like you’ve been hit by a truck, stirring awake enough to feel someone cradling you in their arms and tiny waves of water lapping at your shins. The cool temperature of the water shook your sleep logged mind enough to register that you were still naked and tried to sink deeper into your sleeping companions body warmth.

It was very dark but a small dark red light illuminated the cavern softly, allowing you to see you were in Scaramouche’s more private habitat where no one could see him unless a diver swam into it. Which rarely happened since the last person who tried it ended up with a broken arm and a 4 week recovery period, a silent message from the Cecaelia. “Keep out pathetic weaklings.”

Scaramouche had pale as snow skin like he’d rarely been in the sun for longer than a couple minutes and mix of blues and purples coloring his ear that took on a more webbed fin like appearance. Bits of vibrantly sparkly lavender scales scattering his body from the waist up, giving more of a divine appearance compared to his sharjjp fowl mouth. His tentacles were twitching ever so slightly and almost blending into dark waters, their mass made up of entirely muscles reminding you of their power. A face so gorgeous looking like it was sculpted by the gods or some heavenly being designed to lure people into a sense of calm. Short silky smooth dark violet blue hair with messy cut bangs framing his youthful face and thin but longer hair falling down this back swaying on the surface of the water. Speak of the devil or sea witch rather.

Cecaelia. A term your superiors had found after scouring the library and internet for answers. Happening upon the very name for a being that had the upper of half of a human and the lower half (usually at the waist or hips) of an octopus. They apparently have others unknown abilities being to said to take ‘a form of mermaid or sea demon’ and most often ‘combining the head, arms and torso of a woman (more rarely a man)’.

He could feel you squirming as you woke and chose to leave you to your devices, only worming his tentacles around you for a better grasp and settling his pet into a more comfortable position as you both came to. “Good morning, pet. I can see you had a nice nap.” Scaramouche chuckled to himself as his eyes flicked over every mark adorning your body and wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer. “I hope you aren’t too sore Name because I have plans for you but for now rest up.” Kissing gently on your lips and hoping you weren’t too cold or the effects of his blood hadn’t faded.

You hummed in satisfaction and fully relaxed, murmuring a “thank you” before succumbing to the fatigue pulling at your eyelids and leaning into your dear companion. A talk about what your relationship was could be had at a later time. Dreams slowly passed your mind and occupied your attention, provoking thoughts gaining your attention; such as how were you supposed to go back to your job after this happened? Did he like you more than just a one night stand? Well, the way he spoke didn’t seem like he planned on giving you up nor like things would go back to normal. ‘I hope you aren’t too sore Name because I have plans for you but for now rest up.’ Hm.

The stress from all your questions wouldn’t allow you to sleep soundly and ended up waking up anyway, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and stretching. Your head turned to Scara and nudged your head under his chin to wake him up. “Scara I need to talk to you about what the fuck is going to happen after this….thing.” Laughter filled the small cave and bounced off the walls, his arms moved you so you faced him. “And what would you like to talk about, love?” You sucked in a breath and rethought what you wanted to say, “First what are we in terms of our relationship? Second, what plans do you have for me? Three-”

You remember reading some of the documents given to the staff of the mythology and one of the sections was about reproduction or theorized romantic relationships. It was said that cecaelias are likely to mate for life or until one of them reaches death and are loyal to the end when the find the one they love. That couldn’t be what he felt for you right? He did seem seriously about his feelings, not to mention the clear favoritism he held for you as you both grew to become familiar with another.

A feeler covered your mouth before you could finish your sentence and wouldn’t move when you tried pulling it away, glaring at the person responsible. “Don’t look at me. You were the one who was talking too fast for me to understand… hahaha but alright. To answer your first question, I thought I made myself clear. You’re mine now and until I decide so, pet. For the second question, you’re going to help me out of this damn prison and back to your house.” To say you were stunned was an understatement, starting to spew worries about your job and him getting hurt but it was of course muffled by one of his arms gagging your mouth.

“I know, I know. ugh, you humans and your meaningless worries. I assume your anxious about getting fired or in trouble.” His hand stroked your hair soothingly in an attempt to calm you and removed his tentacle so you could speak. You nodded and chose to say nothing about the worry of him getting hurt since all it would do is inflate his ego. “Alright thank you for clarifying but how the fuck am I supposed sneak you out. You’re enormous and I don’t think you can survive on land for long periods of time.”

The violet haired being rolled his eyes and told you you had nothing to worry about, just rely on him and after hours cut the power entirely. Help get Scaramouche get out to your car and then turn it back on so the other animals would be okay but it would seem as if it was simply a power outage. You hesitated but agreed after he told you if you did get caught then he’d take the entire blame and punishment, insisting that it wouldn’t come to that. “Alright, but what time is it?” One of his purple slimy arms pulled a watch from a small crack in the wall next to the light and examined it. “6am. As much as I would love to keep you here, you have work and I have breakfast to eat.”

Right. Work. You hoped it was a relatively low maintenance day and saw your still dampened clothes being handed to you, thanking your now boyfriend and standing on the dryer platform to put your clothes back on. “I just remembered that I have to swim back up to to surface which means my work clothes will get wet. Well, I suppose it was worth it-” A feeler curled its way around your ankle tightly and squeezed, “You suppose?! Ugh, it looks like I didn’t fuck you hard enough did I? Or maybe you’re daring me to test my own stamina like the brat you are.” You scoffed and finished buttoning up your shirt, getting back into the water. Slapping the arm still stuck to your ankle lightly and kissed his cheek, enjoying the light pink flush filling his cheeks and grinning at your small success of making him flustered.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. You’ll have to find out. Now, if you want to leave with me tonight then help me get out of here because I don’t know if any security is patrolling this area.” Scaramouche shook his head to get focused again and slipped under the water to check, quickly coming back up to let you know it was all clear. You took a deep breath and sunk underneath the water. The trip to the top of the tank was fast, much faster than if you swam on your own. Fresh air filling your lungs and pulling yourself onto the platform for the trainers, climbing up the ladder and reaching for a towel by a bench with supplies.

Hearing him cough for attention, you went over to fridge and pulled out a sizable part of bass that was already prepared. “Don’t think I forgot about you, discount ursula.” Throwing it to the hybrid and ignoring the glare he sent your way for the insulting nickname, muttering something about being better than whoever this ursula person was. “I must’ve done something right to receive more food than usual. Seems like should keep testing your limits.” He smirked as you muttered curses in anger at him and walked off to change clothes, admiring the visible marks he had left last night and swimming down to enjoy the alone he had before the building opened.

You wandered into the employees only section where the uniforms were kept whenever volunteers would sign up and pulled out your size, changing into them and using your towel to dry your hair. It was still early and you hadn’t had anything to eat so you went to the cafeteria usually meant for customers. Checking the schedule to see which area you’d be covering today and were shocked to see you’d be in charge of Scaramouche’s tank with another person since it was a two person job. “Oh guess I won’t have to stray far from him. Wait this means he won’t bother to hide much since he’ll probably want to torment me more and that means a bigger crowd.”

Grabbing a scone and coffee quickly before heading back up to grab your phone, headphones, and employee badge. You texted your coworker that you had come early and that you were both on cecaelia duty, laughing at the comment Alex made about work being cut out for you both. Well, they weren’t wrong but for you it was for different reasons and went to space in front of his tank to tell him the news. The gate to the employees area unclipped as you got behind the metal railing and pressed a button that was connected so a waterproof speak in the water.

“Scaramouche. I’m going to be working with you today.” Keeping the call button on so he could hear the outside and struggling to keep your chuckling visible when you saw the hybrid swim down so quickly, scaring off a bunch of fish and receiving a hiss from a algae green large moray eel. A small but noticeable smile spread across his face before it disappeared as soon as it appeared most likely to keep up his ‘I don’t care and I hate you all’ act. “Oh! And Alex is working with me too.” He looked visibly displeased and went to swim away before you spoke again. “Wait, regardless I’m going to stay with you. Would you rather me work in another part of the building cause I can make that happen?” You didn’t know if you could but the threat was clear and he gave you an angry look, not saying anything but not disagree either. “That’s what I thought.”

He pressed a hand against the thick glass and only looked at you, what you wouldn’t give to see what was going on in his mind. Pressing your own hand against the glass and smiling, asking him through the intercom if he had a way to get out of the tank. Scaramouche nodded and continued to “talk” with you, on occasion making rude gestures whenever you teased him or caught his soft emotional looks (even if it only happened once in a blue moon). “Name! Hey- Oh Woah! The spitfire legend is out!” Alex jogged over to you and got behind the gate as well, admiring him closely since it was rare to see him out in the open and this close to the glass on his own free will.

“Wow! He’s more beautiful than I thought. What did you do to get him out?” You laughed at their fixed gaze on Scaramouche who clearly was not pleased with the attention solely on him and feigned ignorance. “I don’t know, I just got hear and made my rounds only to see him out.” They laughed and pushed your playfully, “Yeah right. Everyone knows he like you more than anyone here, not to mention you explicitly tell others how not to piss him off. Do you know how many accidents you’ve prevented?” As if to spite you, your lover turned to face you and crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow. Your coworker pointing it out “See even he agrees!” The three of you talked (your beloved nodding or making gestures) as the morning went on slowly, dreading the rush hours and helping people out with directions if they needed it.

Everything was going great and shockingly calm until a swarm of people flooded into the room.

About 25 or 30 people ran up to the metal railing, sending the octopus reeling back in shock and swimming to hide behind a bolder nearby. You and Alex answered the questions you got about the tank’s inhabitant and occasionally checking in on Scaramouche to make sure he was okay. This went well until I very angry mother stormed up you specifically and started screaming at you. “Make him come out!” You flinched at the volume and backed up “Excuse me?”

“Get that thing out so my kid can see him! He’s not doing anything so get him out into the open!” You turned to Alex who gave you a look if you needed help but you shook your head, focusing your attention back on the karen. “I’m sorry but Scaramouche is a cecaelia, not a thing, and second he isn’t fond of crowds so I’m forcing him to out.” What you said only seemed to anger her more and she got face to face with you. “I’ve seen others use cattle prods on him to get him out but you’re telling me there’s nothing you can do?!”

You nod firmly and stand your ground. In no way were you going to hurt Scaramouche even before you knew him or got into a relationship. You would never hurt an animal or any creature. “No, ma’am-” “MA’AM” Interrupting her again you continued, “I refuse to use those things. Now, do I need to call security?” The room was quiet before a loud slap could be heard and you felt her palm hit your face, an audible gasp fall over the crowd and they all stood in silence for a slip second before movement could be heard behind you. Scaramouche who’d been watching (and hearing) the whole ordeal closely and already pissed at this vile woman for yelling at you didn’t bother to control himself when he acted automatically upon seeing you get slapped.

Swimming as fast as possible behind you and flaring his lower half to make himself look bigger than he already was, his tentacles spread out and pressed against the glass. The hybrid would’ve beaten your assaulter had the glass not been in his way and inches thick. His fist banged on the glass to get her attention and gave her a death stare, surely given off how infuriated she’d made him. The woman was to scared to speak, fear overtaking her expression and shaking where she stood. Good. She knew she made a grave mistake and he sharpened his glare, baring his teeth and slamming his fist against the glass. “Run.” Even if he couldn’t be heard, the message was clear. The disgusting trash took of running, her child who apologised profusely to you yelling insults at their mother.

Scaramouche’s eyes remained on yours as he watched and heard several things happen. Alex called security and told them what happened (also to ban the woman specifically from the aquarium and not her kid). Concerned parents and kids asking if you were alright, something his heart warmed at. ‘Maybe not all humans were cruel’ He thought, you and two others from his past were evidence it was true. Finally gaining your attention and hearing you whisper into the radio. “I’m alright, Scara. It doesn’t hurt much, just stings.” Reluctantly, he nodded and stayed at the front of the glass in case something else happened, using his scary and fierce reactions to his advantage if any issues occured.

You could see the concern on his face and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t retreat back to the bolder, not that you expected to after that. He could indeed be terrifying when he wanted to be, seeing the speed he moved at from the corner of your eye and how intimidatingly big he made himself seem in response. A response your heart couldn’t help but leap at the protection he gave you even from the other side of a thick transparent wall. “Thank you.” Alex had checked back and examined your cheek after coming back from dealing with the woman. “Are you okay? That’s a stupid question- you just got slapped. She’s gone and not coming back ever.” Their gaze flickered over to the guarded cecaelia still right behind their coworker.

“Thank you, Scaramouche. You’re getting a special dinner for that.” He nodded and glared off to where the woman left, seemingly still peeved at her. “Hey, she’s not coming back she’s banned. You did a good job scaring her off.” These words were all it took for him to calm down at least visibly and turn his attention back to you, lifting a tendril to the glass next to you. Things calmed down and the crowd spoke their apologies incase they had help instigate altercation. A small voice made themselves known as they politely asked others to move aside and stepped up to the railing so they were standing on the lowest rung. “Excuse me? I hope you’re okay! That woman is a nasty meanie. Klee drew this for mister Scaramouche since he reminds me of a prince.”

A small girl maybe 7 or 8 years old with blond hair pulled into pigtails and fiery ruby red eyes handed you a paper depicting a kid’s drawing of the mythical being. He was frowning but wearing a simply drawn crown standing in front of a castle under the ocean, it was clear she took pride in it. You smiled at her and turned partially to show the muse of her art. “Hey, Scara. Klee drew this for you, you like it?” Scaramouche skeptically looked at the drawing and nodded whilst mumbling something that you could guess was a half hearted compliment. You could see the flustered expression on his face as he tried to not show how much he liked it and turned back to Klee to give her art back to her. “Oh. I want him to keep it. I have tons of drawing at home just like that. Thank you Mx Name!”

She waved goodbye to you and Scaramouche who also waved back with a smirk now realizing how many people probably thought the same (not like they could compete with his new favorite kid). “Mommy! The pretty octopus boy liked my picture! I can’t wait to tell big brother Albedo!” “I saw, mama’s so proud. I got a picture you can show him.” You watched as the blond pair walked off to another room, one practically bouncing off the walls and the other calmly intertwining her hands. The day went on significantly more smoothly and nothing else major happened, your lover hadn’t left your side for one second as the day eventually ended and your coworker said goodbye as their shift ended.

It was around closing time when you were preparing dinner for Scaramouche and chatting while he was lounging on the sunken platform. “I’m telling you the plan will go smoothly so stop worrying about. I see your stupid mind whirling away like diver lost in an underwater cave.” You continued to cut the slices of different fish onto a plate with some greens and freshly washed vegetables, taking what he said to heart and hoping it would all go according to plan. “Are you sure you want to leave? I don’t know if you’ll be able to go outside what with people knowing what you look like-”

“After what happened today?! You only got hurt because of me and the crowd I was drawing so that should answer your question. It isn’t the first worthless humans treated you rudely either. Why would I want to go out when you’re all I need?” You reminded him that you’ll still need to work and probably more hours since you’d now be providing for two people to which he countered that he’d get a job after retrieving his identification files. “You’re what now?!” He looked at you like you had two heads and laughed. “What do you think I don’t exist? I have a birth certificate and everything…granted they’re mostly fake but they do work.”

Clearly you were stunned and had several questions but guessed you wouldn’t get an answer out him. “You gonna tell me?” Scaramouche shook his head and grinned smugly, resting his head against his palm. “In time, but firstly dinner then get another set of clothes around your size. After pull your car around the closest back exit and turn off the power. No one should be here anyone since it’s sunday and everyone went home early.” Agreeing you set his dinner down before getting a extra pair of clothes (for who? you couldn’t figure out) and grabbed your bag and keys, heading out to your car. You pulled into the back entrance where the animals usually get transported into the facility and began to lock up all the door, going off your mental checklist when you normally closed.

Heading the main power switch, you took a hold of it and turned it off. Switching on your phone light and running towards Scaramouche, you skipped steps to get to the top faster and went to call out to him only to stop short. There before you was your lover dressed in the employee clothes you left him with but on two legs instead of his octopus half with all eight tentacles. “How-” He ran or rather tried to but ended up wobbling towards you and nearly falling to the ground. “There’s no time to explain. Help me, I haven’t been in this form for a long time.” You did as you were told and slung an arm over your shoulder, carefully walking down the steps and helping him stand like you would with someone relearning how to walk after an accident. Even after turning the power on you’d have a around 15 minutes before they were active again and that was all you needed.

“Turn the power back on. It’s the big green button at the top. I would do it but I’m holding you.” Scaramouche pushed it and the light flickered back on, trying his best to walk after years of not using his legs. You finally got to your car after a minute of reaching the transport bay and got him into the passenger's seat, closing the door and running over to the drivers side. The car turned on and you swiftly drove out of there, telling siri to set a reminder to text your boss that you’d be taking a few days off because of a sudden family emergency and the incident that happened today. The sound of the radio and running engine filling your ears, looking briefly over to your companion who seemed enamored with the sights passing your car.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen the outside. Thank you, Name.” The light ahead of you turned red and you stopped which gave you time to turn your attention back to him. “Scara. Explaination. Now!” He rolled his eyes and continued to look out the window, speaking after a couple seconds seemingly in thought. “I’ve always had the ability to grow legs but as you can see some of my scales remain visible. They could just be attributed to makeup or a tattoo but they’re still there.” His head turned so you could see the lavender scales like marks on the corner of his cheeks and collar bones when he unbutton the top of his shirt. They did look like he could pass them off as not being real. “But if you could escape before. Why did you wait that long? You had plenty of chances before.”

He took in a breath carefully and kept his gaze on the now passing environment as you started driving again, look at you. “I met you. I was going to leave, I had a plan and everything but then you wormed your way into my heart and made me care. So, I stayed and put up with it all, waiting for the chance to maybe get out with you.” Scaramouche’s small speech left you stunned in silence and honored that you’d left such an impression, muttering a grateful response and remaining silent as you returned home. You lived in a relatively small area but not in the middle of nowhere and only 20 minutes from the aquarium just at the entrance to a small wooded area but off the coast near the ocean.

A large river that connected to the ocean flowed next your cottage down the hill which you figured could be a good place if Scaramouche ever wanted to relax in his octopus form or swim with you in the warmer days. It was roughly 25 feet deep and was mainly saltwater with little freshwater home to some birds and small sea life. The trees surrounding your home kept you sheltered from major storms while still allowing a great view for lightning over the sea. You pulled into the driveway and got out with your bag, moving to help the now humanish cecaelia who you guessed had been flexing his muscles as he was now roughly standing with his on your car. “Let’s get inside, I can cook dinner while you can into more comfortable clothes.”

Your home was more comfy than Scaramouche would’ve guessed with fluffy blankets covering part of a leather brown couch and brick fireplace neatly cleaned of ash. Pictures decorated the wall of your friends and family he surmised and rustic decor could be found all around your living room, following you to your bedroom after he wiped his feet and being handed some soft loungewear. “Here you can change into that and I’ll cook some dinner. Feel free to wander about.” Leaving him to change, you grabbed a set of sweatpants and sweatshirt to change into in the bathroom. You mulled over your thoughts after everything that had happened today, how your life had changed significantly and hopefully for the better.

The warm cotton fabric acted as a comforting shield from the cold air seeping in through the window and tickling your ear as if to whisper your unconscious thoughts to you even if you couldn’t understand them. DING! A notification from your phone brought you out of your thoughts and brought you back to the present, slipping your hand into your fleece pocket to retrieve your phone. It was the reminder you set when you both were in the car to text your boss and coworker, heading out of the bathroom and to the kitchen to make some quick dinner. You texted your boss and coworker the same thing, how you would be taking a few days off because of “family emergencies” and your mental health. Which wasn’t entirely false but a little white lie couldn’t hurt.

“It’d take too long to fully cook something and ordering take is expensive so it looks like I’ll just throw a frozen pizza in the oven for tonight. I can go shopping tomorrow,” Opening the freezer drawn and grabbing a recently bought frozen flatbread with your favorite toppings. It was supposed to be a treat for a self care night but this could count as such too. You set the oven to the correct temperature and put the pizza in so it would cook as the machine preheated. “Hey Siri, set a timer for 15 minutes.” The AI did as it was told and you went to call out to your new roommate and lover only to see he was leaning on the jamb of the doorway. In his hands was the rest of his long hair and scissors, where the ponytail began now roughly cut off so it formed almost a wolf cut.

Scaramouche walked over and put the scissors down, “Like my new look? I figure it’d be easier to take care of and I’ve been wanting to cut for a while. Where is your trash?” You pointed to your garbage can camouflaged like all the other drawers and continued to stare. “Are you sure? I mean you look great but-” The short haired man nodded and tossed the length of hair in the trash shutting the lid before falling into your embrace. Nuzzling his head into your neck and placing small kisses, taking your hands in his and leading them up to the sides of his face. You wove your fingers through the violet hair, untangling any knots and sighing deeply to rid of your anxious worries.

“What’s wrong?” It was obvious something was bothering you and he couldn’t blame you. Your life had changed so much in the past 24 hours and you had still yet to adjust to it; he’d do his best to be a constant variable. “I- I’m just worried about everything. What if you get caught? What if this is only temporary?” Silence hung in the air as you both waited for an answer, the fear of their unknown future looming over you like a remind of the big decision you’d made. His grip on your got tighter and he rested his forehead against yours, kissing your lips softly. “If this is temporary then I’ll enjoy it till the moment it’s over. I won’t get caught, I’ve been wandering alone for a while before they caught me. I have experience on my side.”

That was a promise. He’d never let anyone take him from you, not after his friend was killed because of him and not after the little boy died in his arms. You were his new hope. A ball of light untouched by his past mistakes and he intended to keep it safe. Keep you safe. “Don’t worry, Name. This will all work out.” Unfurling himself from the hug and rubbing comforting circles with his thumb on your cheek, whispering affirmations and promises that no measly human could tear either of you apart. You felt better and relaxed, it was new territory which was always scary but you had Scaramouche with you. RING! RING! The timer on your phone went off and made you jump at the sudden noise, catching a small flinch from your significant other as well. “I made pizza for dinner. You can have some even though you already ate, Scara.”

The hybrid looked pleased and nodded, searching through all of your cabinets and drawers until he at last found the plates. Taking two out and grabbing a slice after you’d cut it, you could hear his quiet curses when he grabbed the hot pizza. “Be careful. It just came out, I don’t want to bandage you so soon.” You felt like you were reminding a child the basics of living and safety, assuming that it was probably years since he was last in a house with working appliances and you’d have to remind him until it became a habit for him. The hot marinara sauce hit your tongue as you bit into the pizza and perfectly cooked cheese pulling apart messily, using your finger to tug the long string of cheddar apart so it didn’t become a piece of spaghetti. At long last being able to eat something solid and filling felt like heaven after the exhausting hours of work, secretly eyeing Scaramouche to see if he liked it.

A satisfied hum came from him and he was focused on eating something that must’ve been a lot better after eating nothing but raw fish for meals. Plans had started forming in your mind for other delicious meals for him to enjoy and restaurants you could go on dates to. Once things settled down and you both could back to work, finding a job for Scaramouche and you going back to work, you both could enjoy the more fun things in life like going on dates and waking up together. You should take a bath after the stress of today and working among sea life would cause you to smell a bit salty or fishy, “I’m going to take a bath after this. It should only take-” “Can I join you?”

You swallowed the piece of food in your mouth and turned to him, “What!?” He shrugged and returned back to eating, continuing the talk to you, “I want to wash my hair and body after being in a saltwater tank for a few years. Can you blame me? Wait- are you embarrassed?” The flustered expression you was the only answer he needed and laughed at the sudden silence coming from you. “Fuck you totally are. What, it’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked or do I need to remind you how good I made you feel?” You stood up and washed your plate, deeming that you were full from dinner and putting the rest of the pizza into the over so it would stay warm. The hybrid’s laughter could be heard even after you went into the bathroom and turned the faucet on to your jacuzzi tub, something you’d spent a decent amount of money on because of nice it was to use.

“Damn fucking asshole. He’s too attractive for his own good and he knows it.” He knew how to push your buttons so you’d react accordingly and remain entertained based on your reactions, happily watching you squirm under his gaze. Grabbing some soap to make bubbles and testing the temperature of the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot or cold. You looked back to the door that was slightly ajar and undressed, putting your clothes on the counter and sighing joyously when you sunk into the warm water. “So much better.” Muttering to yourself and slipping underneath the surface to soak your hair. The door creaked open and your lover strolled casually in, blatantly admiring your figure through the light sheen of bubbles. “Shit. You really do things to me, beloved. I’m going to join you.”

You went to argue when he countered you never said no to him and allowed him to undress, averting your eyes with a light blush on your cheeks and gaining a response from the other. “Aw, you’re still so shy. Look at me. Look at me, Name.” Holding your face and moving so you had no choice but to see him bare before you. Unable to stop yourself from staring at his toned muscles and light scarring all over his body, your eyes traveling down to his v-line and hard erect cock. “Good baby. Hm, I can’t wait to fuck you so hard you only remember my name.” He got into the tub and relaxed his body, seemingly concentrating on something before you saw his lower half shifting and changing color. Below his waist his skin turned a dark violet and scales became more pronounced, an ink like dark cloud covered the water and nine tentacles formed where his legs used to be.

Some of them spilled over the tub and others lay floating on the surface, “Ah~ so much better. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I had a hot bath.” He eyed you up and down, extending his arms opening and made a “come ’ere” motion. Soft cool tendrils circled your thighs and moved you to his lap, curling themselves around you. You hands made their way to the back of his hair and gripped it, playing with the messy cut strands and frowning a bit. “I miss your long hair, it looked pretty and I could’ve used it to pull you back into a kiss. Too bad it’s short know.” Absentmindedly playing with his hair until his hand was against yours, “You can still pull it see?”

His eyes daring you to pull at it and your fingers tightened around his roots, pulling lightly and getting an delightful moan. “Well maybe I should do that again.” You did it again and received the same reaction, his head was tilted back and mouth ajar with arms closing tighter and tighter around you. His tendrils crept towards your clit and breasts, all too eager to mark you up for all to see and know you’re his. “I’m going to breed you. I’m going to fuck you so much that you’ll be the parent to our kids. What do you say, huh?” Nodding slowly you kissed him and gasped when cold tentacles circled your clit and sucks teasing your most sensitive areas. Wetting your nipples and further fondling your pussy.

He broke the kiss and nipped your neck, licking the bruises he left and aiming to make more. Scaramouche wouldn’t be satisfied until your entire body was littered in hickeys and marks from his suckers. “Fuck me. Scara please fuck me.” You just wanted him to bury his cock inside your cunt and pounding away at your cervix. Anything besides the lack of friction being given to you right now. You’d beg. What you would give to be on your knees sucking his dick and being overstimulated till your knees gave out. “Since you asked so nicely pet. I won’t make you beg even though it’s very arousing and only strengthens my desire to make you cum your brains out.”

He lifted you up above his face and smirked, licking a stripe up your pussy and blew cool air against it. “Hm, maybe I should overstimulate you till you can’t orgasm. How about that?” Returning to kissing your wet cunt and thumbing off your arousal fluid, pressing the tip of his thumb on your bottom lip. You tongue poked out and tasting yourself in your mouth. Two of his tendrils snaked their way up your body and wrapped around your waist, the other one prodding your gaped puffy lips and pushing it way inside. “Mhm~” Going to move your arms but failing to and feeling two other tentacles binding your hand together, making you subject to your boyfriend’s will.

The tentacle occupying you mouth steadily moved back and forth, reaching the back of your throat and causing you to gag. You suppressed the urge to gag again and moaned when you felt him put pressure on your clit again. Rolling your hips to get more friction, crying out when you felt waves of pleasure wash over you and moaning with his tentacles in your mouth. Scaramouche groaned and laughed a bit, “Hm, you always do such a good job sucking on my cock. Fuck- Keep going, kitten~” Hollowing out your cheeks and running your tongue along the underside it and sucking the tip, briefly being interrupted by harsh thrusts of his tongue against your walls and unable to stop your eyes fluttering shut. You could feel your orgasm was close and kept bobbing your head up and down.

The knot in your abdomen tightening and tightening, your lewd noises getting louder and louder with the hybrid extending his tongue to reach the sweetest spots in your pussy. “Come on. Cum on my tongue and I might just fuck you till the morning sun shines through the window.” Diving back in and fitting his whole mouth around your sopping cunt, wishing that he could’ve done this much sooner had he known you tasted better than his favorite meal. He felt your walls squeeze around his tongue and knew you were getting close to orgasming, something he didn’t get to taste when he was in that “cage”. His finger dipped knuckle deep to furth egg you on and trigger your climax, countless dirty fantasies going through his minds.

“I should have fucked you on my cock right in front of the glass so everyone could see who you belong too. ngh~” That very idea aroused you, clenching the muscles in your legs and desperately trying to push yourself onto his tongue more. “Oh~ You like that? Maybe I should sit you on my dick whenever we go the beach and hide away in the shallow pools. Make to much noise and someone would see.” Muttering praises against your inner thighs and tightening his hold on your thighs, holding them so your couldn’t try to close them even if he head wasn’t in between them and gripping the plush fat of your ass. “But you’d like that wouldn’t you my slutty pet.”

You were sucking his cock so well and feeling him twitch in your mouth, struggling against the arms holding your wrists and thighs together. “Mhm- nghn-” Nodding as best you could while you gave him a blowjob and hearing his smugly laugh, moving at a faster pace. Both of you were close and you felt the knot snap when he bent his fingers, hitting your cervix and harshly sucking your clit. “Ahh~ Scara- ‘m gonna cum” You told him and loudly mewled, the vibrations from your moans lighting the cecaelia’s nerves on fire as it increased the euphoria his cock was getting. “Hm- I- ngh. So am I-” Working you through your orgasm and sinking his fingers into your pussy as you helped him through his own.

Hot white ropes of cum shot out from a slit you had been teasing on his tip and coated your tongue, swallowing it and panting heavily as it dribbled down your tongue. Your moans being heard louder as you became overstimulated and flexing your hands still bound. You looked down and saw Scaramouche lapping up your cum, slick covering his mouth and dripping down his chin. Shuttering when his thumb wiped the excess of his face and licked it up, humming in satisfaction. “Gods you taste divine. Was that fun kitten?” Very tired from your orgasm you shook your head and were lowered back onto his lap, guiding your head into the crook of his next and unbinding your hands so you could hug him. Affectionately pressing kisses on your shoulders and embracing his beloved lovingly, your arms wrapped around his neck and lazily pecking his neck.

Scaramouche pulled back and used two of his fingers to swipe up a bit of you cum from your labia, causing you to whimper slightly from the overstimulation still present and moaning softly. Spreading his fingers to show you the semi transparent fluid and resting them against your bottom lip. “Open up, beloved.” You let your mouth go slack and sucked him clean, tasting yourself as you curled your tongue around his slender pale fingers. A string of saliva connected his fingertips to your lips and broke when he kissed you sweetly, full of love and loyalty just like he’d promised you. His attention turned to you, curling his tendrils around your waist and smiled. “Can you make it one more round, pet? I’d love to feel my cock in your tight wet pussy but if you’re too spent I could always cuddle you into slumber-”

You eagerly responded yes and weakly leaned into him, pressing kisses up his neck and nipping in hopes to mark him so others wouldn’t steal him away from you. “No, I wanna feel your cock inside me. I want people to know that you’re mine but I’m so tired. You’re mine as I’m yours, love. Take me~” Continuing to press open mouthed smooches on his skin and feeling your boyfriend shift under you. The extra tentacles started to retract from below his hips and formed back into his two legs in his human form. Scaramouche taking your chin and tilting your head down to see his more human like dick, the pale girthy shaft with small veins leading up to his rosy mushroom tip twitching and desperate to be touched.

It was already leaking pre-cum and red from the overstimulating blow job you’d given him, “Are you just going to sit there slack jawed or do I have to do all the work myself?” His hand guided yours to his cock and you fingers curled around it, stroking it slowly and coating it in his pre-cum. “Don’t start getting arrogant now. I’ve haven’t touched you and you’re still sensitive~” He glared before smirking at you and rolled his cock against your slit. Kissing his chest and trailing up until you met his lips, rooting your other hand in his smooth violet hair. You lifted yourself with his help and sunk onto his cock. “Fuck. I should’ve done this a lot sooner. You feel so good clenching me- ngh-”

Slowly you rhymically moving up and down, breathing heavily and moaning whenever he bottomed out. Your slick making a white ring around the base of his cock and biting his neck. Feverishly kissing his jawline and rocking your hips in time with his thrusts. “Ah~ Just like that- Keep fucking yourself on my cock! I-” Scaramouche was interrupted when you grabbed his hand and brought it to your next, squeezing his hand in your own. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he tightened his grip and chuckled mockingly. “Well well, what a kinky little slut you are. Ngh-”

His dick kissed your cervix as he harshly pounded into your cunt and cut off your air supply. Checking in with you to make sure he wasn’t going to far and pecking your cheek softly when you signal you were alright. “Scara- aHah keep going! I’m close-” “Shit! Me too! ngh~ Guess you riled me up, beloved!” A breathy moan left your mouth and fell against his chest, scratching his back with your nails when the pace got even faster. Pistoning his cock deep into your pussy and feeling like it was splitting you in two. A second later his unoccupied hand crept down to your clit and pinched it sending painful overwhelming pleasure through you.

Your climax hit you like a ton of bricks and made your legs spasm, trembling thighs tensing and crying out in joy. “Cumming!” The hybrid felt your cunt contract around his cock and groaned loudly. “Cumming too!” Feeling warm spurts of his cum fill you and faltering when you both road out your high, collapsed against the rim of the tub. The water mellowed out and stopped splashing about as you panted to regain the lost energy. “Let’s actually get clean because we just dirtied the water” Scaramouche weakly laughed and hugged your closer, “I wouldn’t mind going for a round 3-”

He was cut off by your glare and quickly scooped you into his arms albeit stumbling a bit before getting out, putting you on the cool tile to refill the tub. “I’d say I marked you up quite well, now others will know who you belong to.” Lifting you so you could see your reflection and the countless hickeys and bite marks all over your body. You smiled and nodded, shakily tapping his arm to put you down and using the counter to keep yourself standing. Towels on your nearby shelf were used to dry yourself off and tossed one to Scaramouche He thanked you and wrapped the towel around his waist, grabbing your body and bringing closer to him once again. “Now let’s go to sleep because in morning you’re not leaving my side and I have to thank you for breaking me out~”

“Hm, sounds good.” My bedroom is-” Already out the door and on the way before you realized he knew where it was since you had shown it to him when you both came in. Leaning your head against his bare chest and stretching out when you’re laid down on the soft pale green comforter. You crawled under the covers and snuggled into the soft pillow, letting your muscles go soft and practically fusing yourself to the hybrid’s body. “You comfortable there?” You nonverbally hummed ‘yes’ and tried to embrace him, happy that he wrapped his arms around you. “Now go to sleep, beloved. I’ll be here in the morning.” “Goodnight.” Closing yours eyes and welcoming sleep with open arms, the warmth under the covers mixed with his body heat.

Your dreams consisted of memories from the day and fantasies of days yet to come, swimming deeper and deeper into the sea of your unconscious before the bright rays of the morning sun peaked in through the curtains. A soft groan came from the person beside you and pulled you closer, messily tangling the sheets around your legs which was already intertwined. RING! RING! You shot up briefly at the sudden loud noise coming from your phone and blindly reached your hand at your bedside table until you finally had the vibrating cell phone in your hand. Pressing the answer button and slowly bringing it to your ear, a loud automated voice quickly giving you a message from your workplace.

“Hello… Name. This is the Deepwater Cove Aquarium calling it’s employees to let them know they will have the following week off with paid leave due to a high security inhabitant breaking out and having gone missing. Tell no one about this and keep it within company staff to avoid a mass panic. If you have any questions or concerns please contact head of Human Resources Teresa Merrii. Thank you and goodbye.” ….well that answered the question in the back of your head and you guessed they didn’t have a clue you were behind it.

“Scara.” Shaking his shoulder and attempting to wake him up, only to receive a mumble and pulling at your torso for you to cuddle with him more. “Scaramouche! They know you escaped-” He opened his eyes just a tad and raised an eyebrow, “It was bound to happen eventually and besides they don’t think it’s you so come back to sleep with me.” The cecaelia had a point, you were also on paid leave which you hadn’t expected and might as well make the best of it. Checking your notifications for any major or important messages you should respond to while you were up and saw a text from your coworker telling you ‘I hope you and your family are alright! Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help and we need to talk about the week off from work because what if it’s Scaramouche?!’.

You’d have to give them your thanks, turning your phone off and getting back underneath the blankets, feeling the smooth bits of scales littering his chest and heat radiating off of him. It felt like you were sleeping next to a fire on a cold winter morning and you pulled the covers over your head. “Well, even if they try to find me, they can’t cause I’m free of that prison and at home with my mate-” THAT’S WHAT YOU BOTH WERE?! “We’re just dating scara-” His finger was pressed against your lips. “Yes, my mate. That’s what most cryptids, as you all like to call us, call our significant others and almost all of us mate for life.”

A second passed. You were fairly sure that he was going to live longer than you which didn’t bode well since he seemed very clingy and insistent on you being with him till death. “How long do you live?” Scaramouche pondered and hummed to himself, recalling all the years he’s been alive. “About 36, but “special” beings who are half immortal live about 150 years. Cecaelia fully mature at about 20 years.” Further explaining about how his kind usually took a mate at 30 or so and pinching you playfully when you laughed, commenting on how it fit that he was 6 years “late” on finding a soulmate. “I’m sorry but with your bitchy personality I can see why no one wanted to date you-” He interrupted you with a pinch on your cheek and scowled at your mockery. His arms wrapping even tighter around your torso and guiding you hand to touch a patch of scales on his cheekbone.

“Oh please, that incompetent mermanta ray Childe couldn’t find a partner and he probably hasn’t knowing him and his battle obsession.” Eyes flicked to the window that looked out onto the sea, seemingly where is (possibly?) friend lived and trying to imagine what kind of hybrid he could possibly be by yourself. The curiosity in you spilling over the edge of your mind and asking yourself if the fairytales you heard of mythical being was true. If half octopus people existed did that mean nagas, mermaids, fae, and kitsunes were real too. “What other mythical beings exist that you know of?” Scara rubbed comforting circles on your tummy as he thought back, “A fair amount of people but many of them are miserable to be around, but as far as the ocean goes I know a couple mermaids and selkies. Two of them are tolerable to be around and offer good conversations last I remember, their names are Kaveh and Kokomi I think.”

“Kaveh always bitches about his annoying merman of a roommate which is always amusing to hear. Of course there are other cecaelia but I haven’t met many others so I assume they live in deeper parts of the ocean.” Laughing to himself as he remembered the insults he’d hear from the selkie about how emotionless and arrogant Alhaitham was to live with. You scooched up so you were laying against his chest and pulled up a soft throw blanket over both of you, “Are mythics only in the ocean?” Lifting his hands from your body and playing with his fingers as he talked. “Haha don’t be silly. They’re all over the world. Some live in the skies and mountains like harpies, dracotaurs, and butterfly people. I know before your boss captured me there was news about a dracotaur named Zhongli and a harpy named Xiao who watched over a city near here almost like a guardian angel.”

The sun shone brighter and the wind picked up, whistling and causing branches to tap against the glass. Birds looked for worms in the ground to bring to their young and chittering to each other. “Hm, I wonder what he’s like?” His hand broke from your grasp and turned your chin so you looked at him, “I thought I was the only supernatural being that interested you?” You laughed and nodded, confirming he was. “You are but that doesn’t mean I can’t be curious. And butterfly people? Aren’t those just fairies?” Apparently not and you shouldn’t say that to a fae’s face because it could piss them off. You had heard stories from your grandparents about people who angered the fae. How travelers would knock on trees when going through the woods to check if the fae were hiding in trees and offer small gifts of flowers or shiny objects for safety when hiking in their territory, with the promise of being respectful.

In your younger years you had believed it, often giving small gifts of your own at the edge of the woods near your house and leaving notes with messages to them. You knew not to tell them your name or else bad things would happen to you and the possibilities of you getting dragged into the forest to never been seen from again only increased. “No, fae are very mischievous and playful. Most of the stories about tricks and fairy circles you’ve heard are true. Butterfly people are similar to fae but have butterfly wings and are much kinder, often helping out creatures of all kind including humans if anyone is in trouble or in need of a helping hand.” Letting your mind drift off into what you thought some of them would look like and your inner child hoping you could meet one one day.

“Just before I got kidnapped, I was washed up by a mangrove near some abandoned but fruitful orchards looking for help since a bad storm had caused me to sprain my wrist. What I thought was a butterfly at first turned out to be a tiny person who called herself Nahida and helped me with my injury.” He explained that butterfly person was the protector of the small kaleidoscope that was home to the ethereally lit forest and her official name was Kusanali. “She helped me identify what fruits were safe and ripe to eat and what herbs could be used for healing or nutrition. Nahida told me what she knew of the fae and that a certain fae prince was becoming quite well known for his artistry and experiments.” Scaramouche kissed your lips and nuzzled his nose against yours, revelling in the comfort and affection you were giving him.

Of course there were other supernatural creatures of the land like nagas and lamias, attractive people with the lower half of a snake with more serpent like features such as scales or forked tongues. Who often are sneaky and stereotyped as sadistic thanks to generalizations from Christianity’s view of snakes when in actuality a lot of them are well versed in healing and medicinal treatments for travelers or other mythics. One type of supernatural you were not so please to find out about were the driders, people with the lower half of a spider and actually very dangerous. “They’re just as cruel and sadistic as the tales say they are or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I don’t intend to find out and I’m hope you don’t either. Remember my home turf is water not land.” You laughed and shook your head, shivering at the thought of running from a being with eight legs and liquidated to be eaten.

“Yeah, that doesn’t seem pleasant to run into but if those are the only dangers in the forest then it seems fine-” He interrupted you and then chuckled, carding his fingers through your hair to work out the tangles that had gotten more apparent over night. You looked up and saw him still looking out the window but away from the sea front view. “Ever heard of werewolves? You’ve probably walked passed by more of them than you think thanks to their ability to remain human looking except during a full or new moon. They are very territorial and possessive of who or what they hold close to them which my kind are also prone to-” You cut him off with some laughter and lightly hit his chest, raising your eyebrow at him and reminding him of the incident involving the ‘Karen’ yesterday.

“Scara you nearly had to be held back when I was hit and any time another employee tries to make a mood on me within your sight even before you dragged me beneath the water-” A bright blush covered his cheeks and he averted his gaze from you, clearly trying to pretend like he didn’t remember it despite you reminding him. “I- It’s not my fault that you attract everyone else’s attention and I have to show them that you’re mine. At least I’m not as bad as the kitsunes! Gods…Those vixens are downright malicious if someone offends them or someone dear to them. My mother’s wife is a nasty example and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been stopped many times from striking me with lightning by my mother.”

This was the first you were hearing of his past in general and his mother, no one who found him could get any answer as to who his parents were or where his home was. “I’m plenty happy that you’re possessive and I appreciate you not killing people just for flirting with me.” Laughing towards the end of your sentence and carefully thinking through your words to find out more about his life. “I’m going to need you to be more tolerant now that you don’t have 4 inch glass separating you from the public whenever we’re outside. But you’ve never mentioned your mother before, what was your life before all of this,” You gestured vaguely to your house and around you both, “happened.

The cecaelia’s eyebrows furrowed and his mood got noticeably somber. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, “If it’s something you don’t want to talk about then I understand but I’m here. I know what it’s like to not like your past.” You kissed his cheek and rubbed comforting circles on his chest, letting him think it over and seeing him shake his head out of a deep thought. “No, it’s alright. I just have… mixed feelings toward my mother and it’s not a pretty story.” Scaramouche shifted so you were sitting up and side by side, his hand intertwining with yours and gratefully looking at you. The dark pools of pale purple overflowing with inner turmoil and deep seated unspoken emotions laying just beneath the surface.

“Well not only am I not human but my mother is a goddess, specifically a goddess of storms and lightning.” Eyeing you for a reaction to which you were stunned and gaped at your non-mortal lover, nodding slowly to let him continue. “My mother had a relationship with a human which resulted in me but I don’t know my father and I haven’t seen my mother since she abandoned me.” This was heartbreaking to hear. Why would any mother ever abandon their child? He was still, silence enveloped the room as he kept his eyes locked on the comforter balled up in his fists. Outside you could see the sky darkening, dark grey clouds gathered strangely with your knowledge that there wasn’t supposed to be rain this.

“That makes me a demigod in addition to my weird ass octopus half. I don’t think I have any abilities like my mother but my human emotions are linked to stormy weather which might explain the thunderstorm coming together outside.” Both of you were now focused on the growing anomaly, you looked to Scara and unwrapped his tightly wound fists. The muscles in his fingers still tense and slowly being relaxed thanks to your hand sliding its way into his. “I’m right here with you. I’m- I’m sorry you had to go through that but how did you manage living on your own at such a young age?”

A fond but sad expression painted over his face and he leaned his head on your shoulder, “I didn’t. I was found on a beach by a man named Niwa, someone who I considered my friend…my family. He was the one who showed me how to live and grow up while trying his best to find answers for both of us as why what I was.” Apparently, when he was a child, Niwa took them both to the library to search as to who Scara’s parents were but were stunned to find his mother’s name belonged to a local goddess. While he told the story, a flurry of emotions crossed his mind upon digging into memories he thought he had put away permanently.

“At first we thought it must have been a mistake but Niwa spotted a symbol marked on my skin behind my neck,” Turning his back to you and lifting his hair to let you view a black triple right tomoe. Black ink filled the shape and bent when you ran your fingers over it, noticing the shiver your lover tried to suppress. It looked like a tattoo freshly healed but there was something not natural about it like the scales that littered his skin. “along with the scales, it was clear that I wasn’t human….but he didn’t look at me differently. He wasn’t disgusted or fearful that he was living with a demigod and helped me discover more about who I was but…”

Tears pricked his eyes and threatened to fall, indicating hesitation and what you could tell was a emotionally traumatizing moment back then. You wished you could have done more but the best you could do is be by his side and comfort him the best way possible. “but there- there was one question he couldn’t answer even though he tried. Why did my mother abandoned me? Clearly she knew about my existence since she put me to sleep on a beach but-” The damn broke as streaks of tears fell down his cheeks, quiet sobs loudened as he tried to muffle them and latched onto you when you brought him into your arms. The tight grip Scaramouche had hurt your heart, no one deserved to go through this and you had some choice words in your head for his mother.

There were several better ways to set him free without the lack of communication or possibility of harm. You were glad that someone like Niwa was there for him while all this self discovery was going on, you’d have to thank him if he ever introduced you two. “Scara-” “Kuni. My name is Kunikuzushi. You- you deserve to know.” With the look he was giving you, you had no doubt that this meant a great deal to him and clearly had gained his trust with your help and kindness. Tears still streamed down his face but they had stopped a bit thanks to your comfort. “Kuni. I’m so glad you had Niwa with you. How come he didn’t help you when you got captured?”

There was silence for a couple minutes then he started quietly crying harder burying his head into your neck and mumbled words you couldn’t understand. Carding your hand through his hair and cooing softly, “It’s alright. You’re safe. You’re with me safe and sound.” After gathering himself he kissed your lips and brokenly smiled. “T-thank you. Niwa-” Kuni stuttered and took a deep breath while thunder shook the house. “Niwa was killed by a self proclaimed doctor called Dottore who hunts the supernatural and dissect them. He used Niwa to get to me after seeing bits of my scales You would have gotten along, he was kind and determined like you.” He paused briefly between words to sniffle and then embraced you again, seeing lightning shatter the sky which reminded him to take a breath.

“He helped me with these pathetic human emotions that plagued me. I thought my mother tossed aside because of my disgusting human half and tried to get rid of my mortal part…. to no success.” To say you were stunned was an understatement. To think in addition to all the torture he’d endured at the aquarium he had tried to kill himself in order to get to his mom. You didn’t notice tears that fell from your eyes and landed on his warm bare chest. His thumb brushed your cheek and wiped them away, whispering apologies that he didn’t need to say at all. “I know, I’m not going to say I regret it because I don’t but you and Niwa changed my mind about humans.”

You sadly laughed and kissed him, “I’m glad you’re here. You made my life brighter and I love you dearly. However, how did you come to live in the ocean?” He wiped his eyes and dried his tears, looking down at the lavender scales decorating his skin. “When I tried to drown myself, something different happened my legs split into 8 and my pale purple scales darkened from my waist down.”

“My ears grew webbed and more fish like, entirely below my waist I looked like an octopus from the hips down but I could move through the water faster than I ever could before-” He stopped and look to you, winds calming down and a genuine happy expression took over his face. “I was free. Free to do what I wanted and be free from the pain of loss…so I shut out the world until I met you.” He whispered, almost in disbelief and awe upon reflecting into his past. Time seemed to stop as he moved closer and cupped your face, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately.

Kuni slowly kissed your lips and slowly pulled away for air begrudgingly, still resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. A comfortable silence fell between you two. So many emotions poured out and no doubt you could sleep for another couples of hours given it was only 9 in the morning. You kissed his lips sweetly before pulling your boyfriend back under the covers and slurring your words out of fatigue. “I love kissin’ you but sleep is a definite tie. Come cuddle me, Kuni~”

There was little hesitation as he wrapped his arms around you and tangled his legs with yours, taking the small spoon position. Sleep tugged at the corners of your mind but before you succumbed to it you whispered something you’d been holding in for a bit. “You and ursula would get along very well.” You practically felt the annoyed tick mark appear on his face with even having to see it and struggled to hold in your laughter. “Who the fuck is this Ursula bitch?!”

Genshin cryptids

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

I don't know if this has been asked before but skeletons try a period cramp simulator what level do they bail out on/do they make it to the last level or do they push through the pain to prove a point?

Undertale Sans - At the first level, he falls on his knees, faceplants on the floor, and refuses to move for three hours. Sorry, that's the best he can do, he's just a little man.

Undertale Papyrus - He keeps going with his day, simply grimacing or jumping slightly from time to time. He goes to level 7 out of 10 then it becomes too much to move and he just decides to curl up on the floor and pretends like he isn't dying right now. He can't go further than this. He understands better what you feel like now, however!

Underswap Sans - He asks you if it's the best you can do at 10 out of 10. Because he's still fine! Ok, he's crying, and can't stand straight anymore and he swears his whole pelvis will dust if he tries to sit up, but he's not giving up! He's a strong boy! He can resist! (He's still glad when he learns you can't increase the difficulty more though).

Underswap Papyrus - He plays it cool like he doesn't feel anything. You can tell it's a lie though because he's turning paler and paler. At 5, he collapses and passes out to protect himself from the pain lol.

Underfell Sans - You think he's scared of your tiny device? Nothing scares him! He taunts you on the five first level, before suddenly shutting up. He still asks you to go further, but you can tell he's just doing it for his ego. He's struggling hard to not break down in tears right now. He won't give you the satisfaction. He just won't. He can't walk straight after for a good hour though.

Underfell Papyrus - "WELL IT'S NOT WORSE THAN THAT TIME I GOT STABBED TWENTY TIMES IN A ROW." He just shrugs. It's not that impressive you know. That's when Undyne punches him in the face and then casually asks if it's hurting now. What. She's helping.

Horrortale Sans - He whimpers pitifully as the pain increases, looking at you with kicked puppy eyes. He stops at 4, because he doesn't like it and it's stressing him out. Well, when I mean stop, I mean he rips off the whole thing from his pelvis, growls, and throws it by the window of course.

Horrortale Papyrus - Wow, he guesses he developed a crazy resistance to pain with his back problem because that's actually not that terrible, even at max. He just shrugs at you. Sure, it's not nice but that's tolerable. You feel sad he thinks max level is his average level of pain in bad days :( That's for sure not cool.

Swapfell Sans - He's still sipping his tea but you can see his hands are shaking a little. He still tries all he can to not show how much it is affecting him actually. Though even him reaches his limit at some point. At 8, the cup of tea literally flies in the air as he has to curl up to ease the pain. He still holds on to 10 though. He knows he can take it.

Swapfell Papyrus - At 3, he's begging to stop, then says that he's fine after all. At five, he's curling up and whimpering, still pressuring you to go more intense. At 6, he's on the floor, holding his stomach with his two arms and crying like a baby. You got him. Now every time Rus is being bad, you threaten him to tie him back to the period cramp simulator and he calms down immediately.

Fellswap Gold Sans - A raised non-existing eyebrow is all you will get as a reaction from him. And a small "ouch." at nine. Wine is not expressive, at all. He's not especially in pain either. He went through so much Underground that it's actually not that painful on his scale of pain. Maybe a 3/10, even at the max level.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He goes to five, collapses, and asks for a five hours cuddle session to recover from that horrible, horrible traumatism you forced him to suffer. You suspect he planned this since the very beginning of that experience as his whimpers started at level 1. But level 1 on your machine is broken so you know he's lying.

[cosmicladyy]

"OW, that’s too rough!"

"I wouldn't have to be if you'd just stay still!"

"You're gonna rip my finger off," your husband yowled and snatched his claws away from your grasp, giving you a nasty look as if you were intentionally trying to cause him pain.

you're aware of bowser's objections to having his nails trimmed, you could hear his complaining echo throughout the whole castle whenever he was forced into it by kamek; complaints flying out about it being the worst pain he's ever had to endure.

(you asked Junior if it was true, to which he denied and said he never felt anything when he had to get his claws cut. he just told you that his dad was a crybaby when it came to this sort of thing.)

you were happy to let him grow out his claws to his heart's content, if he didn't leave you completely covered in scratches from doing the littlest things. outside of the usual reasons you'd be left that disheveled, he didn't have the best handle on them now that they were so long. he somehow managed to destroy your favorite shirt just from giving you a hug.

he was scheduled for a filing a few days ago. conveniently, he was too busy training some new recruits; then, every day after that, he has somehow been able to evade you. for such a large and easy-to-spot guy, Bowser proved to be hard to pin down.

"sorry honey, it's getting late and i'm ready to hit the sack." it was 7:30 in the evening.

"I- uh- have to run some drills with the kids!" they were out of the castle that day.

"whining isn't going to make me go quicker," so, you took on the burden of filing down his claws.

you managed to catch him off guard when he snuck out of bed for a midnight snack. clad in just your pj's and whatever slippers were available, you cornered him, a metal nail filer gripped tightly in your hand.

the 'fight', if you could even call it that, might've alarmed a few guards with the pots and pans you brought down with you as you pinned down the stubborn turtle. it took some convincing that there was no real threat and that you were doing it for his own good; their king ordering them to help him from the floor didn't help your case.

where you got the nerve to defy him, he'll never know.

It's silent after that. the only sounds filling the room are dramatic hissing and the back-and-forth sawing of the filer.

If he wasn't mourning the loss of his long minion shredders, Bowser would've been over the moon at the domestic gesture. you, tending to his nails to ensure they were in perfect shape, and him getting to soak in your warmth as you make yourself comfortable in his lap.

why did he even have to cut his nails down anyway? it's not like he has to. they're perfectly fine and just add to his cool, jagged persona. So unfa-

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't breath on my neck so much."

your only answer is an even heavier puff of warm air that's closer and had more power behind it, "it's not like they were buggin' anybody."

"i have a giant scratch on my back that says otherwise." his arm that you weren't holding wraps around your middle almost apologetically.

he grumbles behind you as you softly blow at the newly shortened, still sharp claw, "see, doesn't that look better?"

briefly examining the hand you raised up to his face, he chuffs and looks off to the side stubbornly, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of him admitting that he liked them way better than before.

"if you really loved me, you woulda left them the way they were." he barely argues.

rolling your eyes, you peel yourself out of his hold, "it's not exactly ideal to be a living pincushion, y'know."

he remains silent, refusing to even make eye contact.

"want me to make you a sandwich?" you softly bargained, holding his rough cheeks in your hands and running your thumbs over his scales in a way you know he likes.

there's a pause, then he huffs, "with extra spicy mustard and chili flakes sprinkled on top?"

"anything for you, my king," you land a wet kiss between his bushy brows with an obnoxiously cute 'mwah!' and began moving around the kitchen in search of said ingredients.

with your back turned to him, the flustered koopa takes a peek down at his newly primped claws, flipping his hands over to fully admire your work.

a jagged, lovesick grin bumpily spreads out on his muzzle; he could get used to this.

[kaeyx]

How would you rate the bsd mens‘s stamina?

At the top? Chuuya, obviously, and Lovecraft.

Chuuya does NOT know the meaning of getting tired, or cramps. He can bend both of you into pretzels and go for hours if he feels like it, and it doesn't matter how heavy you are because he'll move you like you're nothing. He usually stops bc his dick starts hurting from overstimulation and he's not the biggest fan of it.

Lovecraft straight up can't get tired. Whether he's in human form or something more monstrous, his body works on a completely different power scale. You're like a speck of dust to him, and your lifespan that of a fly's. He can't get tired in any way that you can comprehend and even if he did, he can simply switch to another set of limbs and keep going. He gets his satisfaction from making you fall apart.

Pretty high? Nikolai, Atsushi, any of the hunting dogs

Nikolai would be able to last longer, if he didn't insist on going ballistic every single time. I don't think he knows what restraint means, he's always up for weird and strenuous positions that end up tiring him out. And don't get me wrong, he's strong, but I don't see him focused on cardio.

Atsushi my darling boy, another one who still has an above average stamina. You're still going to tap out before him every time, but I think longer sex sessions take quite a bit out of him. It doesn't help that he often transforms halfway through, pinning your arms down so he can mount you. By the time his knot has gone down he's already begun to get sleepy and cuddly, rubbing his cheek against your back and purring, so all the fight has gone out. But don't worry, in the event that you can still walk you can probably coax another round out of him, as long as you do most of the work.

The hunting dogs are variable, depending on what time of the month they're at. Remember all those surgeries they have to do to maintain their bodies? Yeah, if you catch them on the tail end of that they eventually get tired. They still last inhumanly long though, but might get creaky and achey joints afterwards. While on the topic of them being augmented I'd like to propose them having small dicks, since it's a side effect of steroids (and it will also happen when you take estrogen!)

Average? Kunikida, Fukuzawa, Mori

Not much to say here, they're not cardio specialists but they can still last. Who ends up worn out first comes down to how fit you are. Less strenuous portions like riding or spooning will help.

Abysmal? Dazai, Akutagawa, Fyodor

Sorry guys, but Dazai is not the CEO of sex no matter how much you wish he was. This man doesn't eat right, drinks exclusively alcohol, and hasn't exercised a day in his life. He's going to be panting like an asthmatic pug after two minutes, and god forbid you make him do all the work. Nope, make him do core exercises and take him biking.

Akutagawa has a lung condition and is also built like a stickbug. I believe he eats moderately well thanks to Gin, but he's no stallion. Take care of your frail Victorian man lest he be taken by consumption. However, using Rashomon helps immensely since it's not taxing on his body, plus wearing the coat makes him more comfortable.

As for Fyodor? Don't even bother. 0/10. Would not recommend. You can do better.

[makingspiritualityreal]

Jyeshta Nakshatra is the Beginning of the Human Journey of Reaching for Immortality.

That obsession we have in Jyeshta goes beyond material achievement, but reaches down to the spiritual level, propelling us towards a certain level of development, that is an essential part of the cycle in the Nakshatra wheel.

First, simply through achievements among other people, through assertion and dominance. Then, in Mula, through eliminating all human weakness and infinitely perfecting ourselves. By Purva Ashadha, we begin taking our perfected form towards conquering the Universe up to high heavens, in order to carve our names in the Pantheon of the Gods. We develop various means to reach to the top in all consecutive Nakshatras.

This Journey only ends in Bharani, a Nakshatra that offers us a bitter yet inevitable reflection, that even at the top of out freedom and achievement, nature ultimately consumes us all, just like it once spit us out through the Yoni portal. Only the strongest, the most ruthless can survive this sentence...and it comes at a cost of being petrified and empty. We spent all this time reaching for immortality...only to realise it makes for an empty form of existence.

Krittika is where we rediscover the meaning and value of human soul, even if we have to forsake everything to recover it. On the bridge between Bharani and Krittika we suffer due to our own moral struggle to the extent, that we can't live with our own flaws anymore, we don't find happiness in all the means we used to justify our ends, which don't even offer that much satisfaction, and all we want is to go back to ourselves, to feel the pure spark of being human and truly alive.

The reason why the 3rd group of collective Nakshatras is so obsessed with this journey to the top is because here we inevitably constantly juxtapose our own individual selves with the collective as a whole. First, we focused on independently perfecting our individual selves through our sense of identity, then we built ourselves up through interpersonal mirroring in one on one connections, but as we ascend through the Nakshatras our perspective enlarges, and our hunger grows. We want to do more, see more, be more, think on a bigger scale...but with that comes more comparison, a need for more effort, more work, more standards to fulfill, more limitations on our individuality, as more people gaze on us and may potentially judge us, thus enlarging our crowd, and increasing the need to convince larger numbers, taking more viewpoints into account.

Looking at the Nakshatra wheel, we learn that none of these perspectives is actually right or wrong. It's all about what our soul wants to perfect in this current incarnation. There is a nobility in self love and purity of spirit, that we still find at the individual stage of Nakshatras, but there is also grandiosity in a desire to perfect oneself in contrast with the collective, that we reach later on.

In time, both of these perspectives expire to replace each other, not necessarily because one is inherently right or wrong, but simply because we exhausted one or the other, and we need to switch things up to be able to continue the cycle and learn more.

[castieldelamancha]

"I am sorry, Dean."

The whispered words make the man laying comfortably between his legs, arms wrapped around his waist, look up from where his head was resting on his stomach. Dean gives him a confused expression, that doesn't erase completely the clear contentment and satisfaction in his eyes. Castiel almost feels guiddy about the fact he was the one that made Dean feel all those things, all that wild joy, all that untamed pleasure.

Almost.

Because the guilt he has been carrying within him these days is growing too big to ignore.

"What 're you talking 'bout?" Dean asks, sleepily, head flopping down once more, he nuzzles even closer to Castiel.

Castiel keeps his hands busy, his fingers combing Dean's short hair, as his mind tries to rearrange its thoughts and words into something that will make sense to the other man.

"It's just " he starts "that I would have loved to leave something behind for you, but I didn't," Dean doesn't say anything, and Castiel is grimacing at his poor attempt at communicating his inner turmoil, but then Dean goes tense and his once relaxed and open hands close around the sheets covering them. He doesn't like to call about those days, neither does Castiel, the quiet days, as he had called them once.

A phone that never rang, Cas, as much as I stared at it, not a knock on the door, there was this silence, I didn't feel like talking either, they were just so quiet, those days.

But Castiel needs to talk about it, make it better somehow.

"I thought about leaving a letter behind, some kind of explanation, because I owned you one, and at least I could give you that, albeit rushed," he continues, " I didn't know what to say, no words were going to give you comfort, I didn't really have any material things to left for you to keep," the tape Dean gave him, Castiel thinks to himself, was something he was determined to take with him once it was time to go, and he did, "I avoided it until it happened, never able to leave something I wanted you to have, to remind you you were in my mind, what you meant to me."

He wasn't avoiding the topic, he knew well his time was going to come sooner or later, he was even at peace with it, he was going to hurt others but, if he thought of the grand scheme of things, that was never as heavy as the idea of being able to save them all if he had the chance if he weighed them on his heart's scale.

They would be better off without him, he had long convinced himself of that by then.

It was more the impossibility of seeing himself reaching that kind of happiness, that bright joy that could blind him for a moment and make him forget about everything else, the pain and struggle, the sadness. He knew well he was never going to have what he was sure could meant all that for him. He couldn't imagine the moment it would happen either, if he would be able to say goodbye or not.

He never found the words or the gesture that could give Dean peace, because he was sure he was going to mess it all up, make it all more complicated. He never found the words that could have been enough to express how big, how bright, how strong and freeing all he feels for Dean is. He has never been one for poetry and pleasantries.

"But you did." Dean says after a while, he moves away from Cas, maneuvering until he is sitting down too, facing Castiel, the back of his knees resting on Castiel's thighs.

He reaches out for him and one of his hands finds the back of Castiel's neck, squeezing firmly, the other splayed on his chest, his fingertips drumming against his collarbone.

"You don't have to apologize," but Castiel still feels he had to, and both of them know he isn't going to back down on that, "you said all those" he pauses, clearing his throat, "all those things about me, about us, all those amazing things, and you left them with me, for me to keep them safe." Only his to hear, only his to have, only his to replay as many times as he needed them. No one could have taken them for him. "You gave me a chance to see another day." He gave Dean a love like he could have never imagine could be real.

He moves his hand away from Castiel's chest and holds onto Castiel's hand, interlacing their fingers, pressing Castiel's knuckles to his cheek,

"You came back to me."

Castiel wraps his arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer to himself in a tight embrace, dipping his head down to press lingering kisses on every inch of warm, freckled, skin he can reach.

[blackberrysummerblog]

I’m alive! And I’m so grateful to everyone who’s been tagging me—life has been crazy of late but it’s made me really happy seeing the notifications and keeping up with all of your work! Anyway, I have been writing, so I’m sharing a bit of that along with a ton of tags under the cut. And I’m even early this week (it’s still Tuesday where I live)

This first excerpt is from my demon!Baz/merman!Simon CORB:

What I didn't expect was to find him stretched out on his back, arching his spine as if attempting to offer himself up to the mid-afternoon sun.

He smirks when my shadow falls over his face. Simon wiggles his—hips?—in greeting. “You like me," he practically purrs.

"What." In spite of his playful tone, I still can't quite let myself give in.

"You're obsessed," he teases, rolling onto his stomach and rising up on his elbows. “You came back to stare at my scales again."

"Yes, well. They are rather...scaly," I finish lamely. "You're a true freak of nature, fish-boy."

"Simon," he corrects me, then looks back over his shoulder as he lifts his tail and fans out its spectacular fins. "And I'm not a freak. I'm a wonder."

And a bit from the other CORB that I get to do—hopefully this one is ok but I feel kind of vulnerable about it:

It’s warm in the bedroom; someone’s lit the fire already, and it casts a lovely golden glow around the room’s red furnishings. I shuck my jacket and kick my shoes off as I pull my shirt over my head, stumbling a bit, and then unfasten my trousers and kick them away as well. Socks follow. Should I take my pants off?

I hear footfalls on the stairs down the hall and rush to jump up on his—our—bed. We’ve been living together long enough that I think of the Hackney Wick flat as ours, so I guess this gargoyle-covered nightmare in Hampshire is as much mine as his. I’ve been tied to it enough. Baz, too, sometimes. When he’s in the mood.

“There you are.” Baz gives me a predatory grin as he shuts and spells the door behind him. His three-piece suit is understated, for him—a deep, inky blue tailored so close to his body that I’m not sure I won’t have to cut him out of it. Merlin, the sight of him. I lean back on my hands and let one leg hang over the edge of the bed, the other pulled up as though I’d meant to sit cross-legged. I hear him suck in a ragged breath and I half-close my eyes in an attempt to look come-hither.

“You told me to be here,” I rasp. Crap, my mouth is still dry as a bone.

Baz steps over to the pitcher at the side of his bed and pours a glass of water. Slowly, carefully, he holds it up to my lips and lets me drink my fill. “Ohh, that was good,” I sigh happily, licking the last drops from my lips.

“More?”

“Not of water, no.” I give him what I hope is a suggestive smile, although from what I’ve seen practicing in the mirror, I probably just look a right git.

Lastly, a bit of my crucible marriage fic, which I’m still working on:

“Twat.”

“Moronic numpty.” It takes effort not to flick his nose, but I manage. The way he’s glaring at me is too good to ruin with cuteness.

“Stuck-up tosser.”

“Idio—” And then Snow pounces, literally pounces, on me, and I let him knock me to the blanket. Of course I do; it’s like a dream come true. At first I’m not sure if he’s actually angry and planning to thump me, but in between little huffs of breath he’s laughing, so I concentrate on letting him think he can pin me without making it too obvious that I’m not using my full strength. Simon pushes my wrists beside my face and grins down with such self-satisfaction that I hate to spoil the illusion, but my pride won’t let him have this so easily. I push a knee up under his chest and twist, flipping us both so that he’s left spluttering beneath me.

“Let me go!”

“Let you—you’re the one who jumped on me!” I shove Snow’s hands above his head and hold them there with my forearm as I take his chin in hand and give his head a little shake. His eyes gleam with defiance and then grow soft, eyelids fluttering nearly shut. Letting my guard down, I drift closer, closing my eyes and parting my lips…

“Prat!” Snow surges up and takes hold of my shoulders, turning me before I can regain my balance. He laughs as we struggle and then begin rolling down the hill, because he’s an idiot who twisted us so that we would roll down the hill. He wraps one arm tightly around my waist, his other hand at the back of my head.

Have a great week everyone! It’s been so long that I’m going to go a bit bananas with the tagging: @prettygoododds, @palimpsessed, @wellbelesbian, @facewithoutheart, @raenestee, @thewholelemon, @nausikaaa, @bazzybelle, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @aristocratic-otter, @imagineacoolusername, @supercutedinosaurs, @iamamythologicalcreature, @rimeswithpurple, @ileadacharmedlife, @hushed-chorus, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @fucking-gay-frogs, @valeffelees, @theotherhufflepuff, @nightimedreamersworld, @artsyunderstudy, @cutestkilla, @stardustasincocaine, @ghostpepperworld, @c0nsumemy5oul, @shrekgogurt, @larkral, @letraspal, @fatalfangirl, @onepintobean, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @ebbpettier, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @j-nipper-95, @fucking-gay-frogs, @alleycat0306, @aceumbrellaheroes, @forabeatofadrum, @youarenevertooold, @thewholelemon, @confused-bi-queer

[oh-hell-help-me]

Day 5: Blaze

They found the culprit eventually, after Mario arrived.

In fact, Luigi was sure that -had he not lead the investigation- Bowser would have disregarded his daily duties to smoke out the Koopa himself.

It turned out to be surprisingly easy.

It also turned out that Luigi.... might have made a bigger impression than he realized?

Like, at least a whole search party made up of vendors, Troopas, and the odd old Koopa ladies (who he once talked to about Koopa style crochet) had taken up the tracking while Luigi and his guards were busy, well... Busy.

In any case, the Koopa left a trail that was particularly messy and caught him before he left the Kingdom via airship.

None of them would explain why the Koopa was hauled to the castle with various injuries, but even Luigi could guess the answer to that -even if the gesture made him feel conflicted.

Is it bad to feel so much gratitude for this? To feel relieved that he meant something to other people?

To feel satisfaction as someone who hurt you refuses to look you in your direction?

He struggles to not acknowledge the part of him that makes him feel nauseous thinking out it- turns his attention towards the Koopa King as he sits on his throne amidst officials and common folk alike. It seems like they have gathered around for... whatever was going on, but the collective silence is deafening.

With his imposing bulk backlit by the lava wall, red eyes gleaming brighter than his scales, Bowser was a sight that had Luigi feel like he couldn't catch his breath.

His face was unreadable, with most of it shadowed, but there was something dangerous in his voice as he spoke.

"What is your name?"

"......Hackson." A jam to the back of his shell. "Sir." The Koopa spat out

Luigi couldn't see his brother from his seat in a makeshift wheelchair, but he could still hear Mario's teeth grind together. He could see Peach, perched next to him on a fancy chair, but the way her gloved hands clenched made him realize that she was just as angry.

By the subtle sound of claws on his stone armrests, Bowser may have felt the same.

"Well, Hackson." The behemoth's voice seemed to get deeper and raspier, something that made Luigi's spine stiffen. "Do you know why you are here?"

"Yes." The Koopa said curtly.

Red eyes narrowed. "Then you should be aware that you should choose your next words carefully." Smoke leaked from Bowser's maw, trailing his head as he leaned forward from his throne. "Why."

It was obviously as much a command as it was a question.

"I was getting rid of a problem you're too weak to get rid of."

Bowser seemed to almost lunge, baring his teeth into a snarl.

"YOU DARE-"

"I DARE ALRIGHT!" The Koopa didn't seem to register the way the crowd shifted away from him. "I DARE BECAUSE THAT-" He thrusts a claw at Luigi, who flinches into his seat- wincing as another panging sting raced from his stomach. "HUMAN AND EVERY OTHER SCALELESS-" he says something Luigi couldn't pronounce, but the way the Koopas around them acted told him enough. "-SHOULDN'T BE HERE! THEY SHOULD STILL BE RUNNING IN FEAR AS WE BURN THEM TO ASHES!"

Hackson seemed to be growing angrier, locking eyes with almost everyone present. "OUR WORKERS SHOULD STILL BE ABLE TO HAVE A ROOF OVER OUR HEADS! HAVE MORE THAN A DAMN MORSEL TO EAT! WE SHOULDN'T HAVE TO PAY FOR YOUR FUCKUPS!"

There is a silence that followed, but Luigi could only focus on the sudden smell of sulfur and the way Hackson flinched as Bowser stood up.

"And what did you gain, hm?" The king's voice was almost soft, but the way started to step down from his throne... "A promotion? A medal?" The sulfur smell grew stronger. "Did you know what you've just done? What you almost did?"

The Koopa, Hackson, seemed to pale and freeze on the spot. He looked less sure of himself, but something seemed to have egged him on.

"I-I could have saved them -finished what we started!" He wasn't making sense- saved? "I WOULD STILL HAVE MY FATHER HERE!"

....

Gradually, the sulfur scent faded, but Bowser kept cold eyes locked on Hackson as he stared down on him.

"....Regardless of your reasons, you have committed a crime against both the Mushroom Kingdom and my Will." He took a step back, beckoning the Troopas to secure him again. "You will be placed in a holding cell, until mine and the Council's judgment will call upon you."

It seemed like that was that.

But then-

Hackson caught a glimpse of Luigi behind his king, his desperate eyes locking onto his before seeming to turning into bubbling anger- no-

Hate.

Luigi couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move when the Koopa lobbed out a fireball-

A hissing ROAR-

then bright, blistering heat came -cracking stone and sending waves of whipping air -nearly carrying his hat right off his head before he barely caught it against his head.

He couldn't tear his eyes from the sight- the sound -the smell---

He heard Hackson be burned alive.

He saw Mario -his brother, his fratello- take the fireball to his shoulder- crumbling against him in pain as Peach screamed-

He saw Bowser, fire highlighting him and his angry eyes-

-turn into regret, looking away even as he drew closer.

He was shivering, he knows he is in the way that Mario still tries to check him over -frantically looking him over even as Luigi stutters out protests because damnit Mario, you're the one hit with a fireball--!

How can he tell anyone that neither the Koopa's death nor his brother's injury wasn't the only reason he was shivering like a leaf? That it wasn't just fear that had left him otherwise mute as he and Mario were picked up by Bowser and carried away from the blaze?

That even after he heard those screams of agony, and smelt the charred meat of what used to be a living being, those encompassing arms- hot and firm with bumpy shield-hard scales- felt like the safest spot in the world?

[missjanjie]

Better Than Revenge | Chapter 9

Title: Better Than Revenge Summary: Karma Inc.’s business structure is simple - clients hire them when they’ve been grievously wronged and they send one of their revenge mercenaries to right them. As painstaking as their efforts to remain ethical may be, that may be tested when former detective, Rosé, enlists the squad to pick up where she couldn’t on a much higher scale, with potentially greater consequences. Word Count: ~2.7k (this chapter) | ~23.6k (total) Relationship(s): Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx), Jankie (Jackie Cox/Jan Sport), Halldoll (Nicky Doll/Jaida Essence Hall), Gimone (Gigi Goode/Symone), Gottlux (Gottmik/Olivia Lux) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

“Why are you laughing at me?” Gigi crossed her arms and pouted as she watched Symone snicker via her reflection in the tri-panel mirror. 

“Because you’re trying so hard to act like you don’t care about this wedding planning and stuff. You’re picking out the dress you’re gonna walk down the aisle in. You’re allowed to be excited,” she replied, adding, “It’s not embarrassing to have emotions.”

“I’m not acting like I don’t care, it’s the opposite!” She insisted, “The dress has to be perfect, I’m paying excruciating attention to detail, and you should be too. What if our dresses clash?”

Symone blinked. “Now how the fuck does white clash with white?”

“Patterns! Textures! Look at the bigger picture – the pictures!” 

She looked between the two women on either side of her – Crystal on her left and Lala on her right. “Is it me? Am I missing something?” As much as she loves her fiancée, she could never quite figure out how her mind works. 

Crystal shook her head. “No, she’s always been like this. It was nothing short of a miracle that she didn’t want to go to prom, I can only imagine it would’ve been foreshadowing to…” she gestured in Gigi’s direction, “all of that.” 

Gigi had tuned them out at that point, deciding to change into another dress, her sixth, for anyone who was still counting. 

“Didn’t you tell me she was a whole-ass seamstress?” Lala asked her sister. “Why don’t she just make her dress? At this rate, it’ll probably be faster.”

Symone tilted her head. “You might be onto something,” she conceded. When Gigi returned in another dress she was already nitpicking, she suggested, “Why don’t you and your mom make the dress instead?”

She pursed her lips as if she were trying to find an argument, something to justify why they had spent the last two hours here. “I suppose it’s an avenue worth exploring.”

Just as Symone was about to bask in relief and satisfaction, she looked down at her phone to see a text from Jackie. “Well, you’re gonna have to explore it later. We have to get to the office, sounds urgent.”

—

The air in the office was thick with tension. None of the group wanted to be the one to break the silence and ask why a meeting was being called so suddenly. This was out of the ordinary – Jackie was a planner, meetings were found on the calendar a month in advance, complete with an agenda. She wasn’t alone, either – Jaida was on her left and Rosé on her right. They all stood as stone-faced as possible, though Rosé was actively avoiding eye contact with Denali. 

Fortunately, Jaida was able to sense that the other two did not want to be the ones to start the meeting, so she took one for the team. “The case Denali and Rosé went on the road for runs a lot deeper than we thought. More people are involved, more is at stake, and it’s gonna be more dangerous, so I’m gonna get all of y’all into more training.” 

Mik raised his hand. “What do you mean by ‘more dangerous’? We’re already literally killing people.”

“Dangerous as in make sure you have a will written up and a next-of-kin established. Dangerous as in Jan’s ‘alleged’ mob connections might not even be enough to save us,” Rosé replied somberly. “Look, I know this sounds like some Law and Order: SVU shit, but we essentially fell headfirst into uncovering a sex-trafficking ring.”

Nicky let out a groan mixed with frustration and distress, hunching forward and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Ma mère avait raison, j'aurais dû rester en France. Je vais mourir ici.”

“You’re not going back to France,” Jaida replied, as that was the only word she picked out of the phrase. “Listen, we have reason to suspect they’re onto us… Well, they’re onto the fact that someone is onto them. We don’t know what they have on us. But the point is, they know they have to get out of New York and they’re gonna start working fast, so we have to be faster.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jan mumbled, then promptly got up and ran down the hall with Jackie on her tail. 

This time, the mounting silence was interrupted by Nicky. “Are we going to address the elephant in the zoo, then?”

“Elephant in the room,” Denali corrected, getting up nearly as quickly as Jan did. “And no, we are not,” she added pointedly. “I have to go to physical therapy… then regular therapy… then I’m gonna go home and get super high. No one call me unless I get to shoot something.”

Nobody had a chance to respond before Denali was out of the room, leading all remaining eyes to shift to Rosé.

Rosé felt everyone’s gazes burning into her and she knew she couldn’t feign ignorance. After she and Denali slept together, she all but ghosted her as much as one could while remaining in a professional capacity. It wasn’t intentional – at least, she didn’t think it was. But she felt the judgment from her coworkers despite her stubbornness preventing her from acknowledging any wrongdoing. “So… does anyone have any questions?” She rolled her eyes when everyone’s hands shot up. “Does anyone have any questions about the case?” 

Everyone’s hands immediately dropped.

“Nosy cunts, all of you,” she muttered. “Meeting adjourned, I’m out.”

—

Denali groaned when she heard a knock at the door, taking the last hit off her pipe and setting it down before opening it, then rolled her eyes. “If you’re here to say ‘I told you so’, save it. I don’t wanna deal with your bullshit, too.”

Jaida shook her head as she let herself in. “No bullshit, just here to talk, since I’m the only one that got both sides of the story.” She sat down on the couch and waited for her to join. “Listen, Rosé is in some deep fucking denial right now. We all know that what went down in that hotel room was more than just some heat of the moment release of sexual tension.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?” She asked as she packed a fresh bowl, lighting it and taking a hit before passing it over. “I can’t even get her to look at me. I’m not saying I thought we were gonna ride off into the sunset together, but I was hoping for something, you know?”

“I wish I knew what to tell you,” she sighed, taking a hit and hoping in vain that an answer would come with the exhale. “I’ve done my best to knock some sense into her, but at some point, it turns into arguing with an angry, Scottish wall.”

While the visual elicited a small laugh from Denali, it didn’t make the predicament any easier to bear. “The way she was with me in the hospital… I don’t know, I thought I meant something to her.” 

“You do,” Jaida replied with a certainty that caught Denali by surprise. “That’s why she’s being so damn stupid, she don’t know how to handle her feelings for you, so, she’s pushing you away to make it easier.”

Denali sighed as she took a final hit from the bowl before setting it down. “I guess I can take some sort of solace in that, it not being my fault.” 

“You didn’t think it was your fault, did you?”

“No, but it’s nice to hear it from an outside source,” she admitted, then looked at her, “what should I do now?”

“Have you considered getting laid by…  literally anyone else?”

“I haven’t ruled it out.”

—

“We need to do something about the Rosé and Denali situation,” Mik remarked, “those two are our strongest members and they’ve been totally off their game.”

Olivia nodded the best she could while lying with her head in his lap. “Have you guys considered recruiting? Maybe having another pair or two of hands on deck will make dividing the workload easier,” she suggested.

He tilted his head in thought, aimlessly twirling his fingers through her curls. “That’s not a bad idea,” he mused. “No idea how you go about that though. Dark web? Craigslist? Does anyone even use Craigslist anymore?” 

“Right, we can’t exactly go around posting help wanted ads,” she conceded. “Maybe Jaida knows some people from her army days.” With her phone already in hand, she texted her about the idea. 

Jaida: Listen, I can find people if you need people, but you guys gotta make sure the whole group is on board. Olivia: Mik said he’ll bring it up at the next meeting. Jaida: I’ll see what I can do.

“At least we know it’s doable,” Olivia offered, “Do you think the girls will agree to it?”

“Only one way to find out.”

When the next meeting came around, Mik was fidgeting with anxiety as everyone filed in and took their seats. “Hey, um, before we dive into things, can I have the floor for a minute?” After he received several nods in response, he took out a folder from his bag, set it on the table, and opened it to the page he’d typed out the night before. “So, um, given… everything that’s happened lately, I think it would be beneficial for us as a group to consider adding a few new team members.”

The suggestion received mixed reactions, the women murmuring amongst each other before Symone spoke up, “Are you sure now is the best time to recruit considering how severe the situation is?”

“I’ve been talking to Jaida about it, we’d only be taking whoever she recommends, especially since they’re former military or military-adjacent. And she suggested we start them off with the types of cases we used to do,” Mik explained.

“I think he’s onto something,” Jackie chimed in, “we’ve all taken on emotionally taxing work and spreading ourselves thin, maybe having another person or two to share the load would make things easier.”

“Okay,” he clapped his hands together. “All in favor of recruiting for the squad?” With everyone’s hand going up in response, he sent a text to Jaida, telling her to move ahead with the plan.

—

Rosé sat with her arms crossed as Jaida drove them to the airport. “I still don’t think this is necessary,” she muttered. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Jaida scoffed. “That would require you to not be in denial about your situation with Denali. And so help me god, if you say nothing’s going on again, I will drive this car off the highway.”

“Tempting.” After a few minutes of tense silence, she asked, “So these are both girls you know from the military?” 

She shook her head. “Anetra was on base with me, but her sister, Mirage was on the other side of things. Long story short, she was one of the leaders of a gambling ring in Vegas. They weren’t under suspicion or anything, but she had a gut feeling it wouldn’t end well, so she bailed.”

“Did anyone get caught?”

“Eventually, the other ringleader did and the whole operation crumbled. But to their credit, they didn’t snitch and the case has been closed for almost a year.” 

Rosé pursed her lips and nodded. Despite her resistance to having the recruits, she couldn’t deny that Jaida had picked well. And she had to admit, two sisters with vastly different career paths now fighting for the same cause fascinated her. “I guess it’s worth seeing what they’re about.”  

When they arrived at the airport, Rosé wasn’t any more thrilled, but she had concluded that this was what was best for the team. So, she put on a grin and helped the women load their luggage into the trunk. “Welcome to New York, ladies,” she remarked as they all got back into the car. “Is this your first time?” 

“It is for Anetra, but I traveled a lot for ‘work’ and it brought me here a few times,” Mirage answered for both of them, noting that jetlag was hitting her older sister hard, as she was barely keeping her eyes open. “You said the roommate situation was sorted, right?” she asked Jaida.

She nodded. “Yeah, leave it to Jan to ‘know a guy’ whose niece was looking to move out anyway and struck a good deal on renting the extra rooms of the apartment he bought her.” 

“Buying a three-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn? In this economy? Is he in the mob or something?” Mirage asked, only to notice the way Jaida and Rosé hesitantly looked at each other and blinked in surprise. “You know what? I’m not gonna question it. I don’t wanna wake up with a horse head in my bed.”

“The fewer questions you ask, the better. You know how it goes,” Jaida confirmed. It didn’t take long after that for them to pull into the parking garage of the apartment complex and gather their things to go upstairs, the apartment being on the third floor of a seven-floor building. 

“Xunami!” Rosé called out, “We’re dropping off your roommates, come make nice!”

Xunami scoffed as she emerged from her room. “I’m always nice, how very dare you?” She turned her attention to Anetra and Mirage, though her gaze seemed to linger on the latter. “Pleasure to meet you,” she greeted, extending her hand. 

While Anetra offered a sleepy greeting before excusing herself to her room to unceremoniously pass out, Mirage took her hand and batted her lashes. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Jaida sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, I’m out. I’ll see y’all at the next training session.” As she left, she muttered under her breath, “I swear to god, the next one better be fucking asexual.”

—

After missing the last couple of meetings, Rosé arrived at the office with Anetra and Mirage in tow. “Gather ‘round, everyone. I’m gonna introduce y’all to our newest recruits – Anetra and Mirage Amuro. For the love of god, please be normal to them.”

“You’re a little late in the game to make unreasonable demands of us,” Gigi chuckled as she and the rest of the group introduced themselves, collectively deciding to take the rest of the morning to let everyone talk and get to know each other.

“You’re a blackbelt?” Denali asked Anetra with wide, bright eyes. “So am I, I haven’t met another woman with one in years.”

Anetra chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Guess we’re a rare breed, what can I say? I’m glad, though, I didn’t think anyone was gonna be able to keep up with me.” 

She arched her brow with an amused smirk. “Oh, she’s cocky too, huh? Though I guess with your resumé it’s not unfounded.”

Mik was within earshot of them, tilting his head in interest. “Huh,” he remarked, “Looks like we might kill two birds with one stone.” While Symone nodded in agreement, the two turned their heads when they heard disgruntled mumbling behind them and turned to see Rosé pouting with her eyes trained on Anetra. 

“What’s your damage?” Symone asked. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Denali won’t hold what happened over you if she ends up under someone else.” Of course, it didn’t take an expert to see what was causing that reaction. “Did all that just to make yourself jealous, huh?”

“This wasn’t even my idea,” Rosé rolled her eyes. “Whatever or whoever she does is none of my business. I just don’t think it’s a wise thing to pursue, all things considered.”

“One of those things being the torch you’re carrying for her,” Mik chimed in. 

She shook her head as she sipped her coffee. “Even if I was, it wouldn’t be right to act on it. She already got hurt physically on my watch. The best thing I can do is leave her alone.” She knew Mik and Symone weren’t convinced, she was barely convincing herself. 

[partypoisonzz]

snap a shot with the lens (frank iero x reader smut)

Kinktober Day 13: Erotic Photography/Lingerie

Era: Parachutes (2017)

Reader Pronouns: She/her

Content:

- ...the photographs your husband took 😏

- Prase kink!!!! (I'm that bitch. Been that bitch, still that bitch. Will forever be that bitch.)

- Dacryphilia, lowkey

- The two of you are married because of course you are

Word Count: 2,988

Disclaimer: This explicit story was written by an adult for consumption by other adults only. If you are under 18, please do not read or interact in any way.

-

"So... Where did you get it?"

In response to Frank's question, you look up from the pile of laundry that you are in the process of folding, — mostly his stuff from tour. "Where did I get what?"

The look on your husband's face is serious. Maybe it would be just this side of intimidating, if you didn't know him so well. His bark is a thousand times worse than his bite, — and his bark comes with little lovesick whimpers, too. "That little lacy thing that you had on in the pictures."

You turn back to the clothes, trying to hide the fact that your face is going red from a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation. "I went to that new store downtown a few weeks ago," you respond, nonchalantly folding one of his shirts and sitting it on top of the pile.

"You went without me?" Frank presses.

You laugh. "Well, yeah," you say. "You were on tour. I was lonely and bored. Figured it would be as good a time as any to stop by and get you a surprise."

He gives a low chuckle. "I was surprised, alright," he says. "Nothing quite as surprising as opening a text while you're in line at the salad bar and seeing your wife with her tits out."

You toss a pair of balled-up socks at him. "They were not out. I was covered up."

"You call that covered up?" he asks incredulously, tossing the socks back at you.

"I left something to the imagination," you reply, sitting the socks off to the side.

"Well, I was certainly imagining." You cast another glance over at him, only to see a familiar look on his face. Wanting. "I was imagining all sorts of things. And that was just after the first picture."

You grin, shaking out a towel before beginning to fold it. "What about after that?"

"After the second and third, my mind got a little more... Creative, so to speak," he says. "After the fourth one, I was losing it. Couldn't wait to get home and have the real thing." He's quiet for a moment before speaking up again, his tone sounding much more tentative. "So... Can I see it?"

"Maybe later." You stand up, picking up the pile of laundry and carrying it towards the bedroom. You stop on your way towards the stairs to ruffle Frank's hair. "For now, you need to rest. Surely you're tired, after several weeks of nonstop shows."

You can hear him grumbling as you scale the stairs. "I don't want rest," he says. "I got plenty on the plane ride over. I want you."

"All in due time, babe!" you call down the stairs.

You're happy that he can't see the huge smile on your face as you put the clothes in their place, only to open your underwear drawer and retrieve the lingerie set.

You have all intentions of driving him absolutely insane.

-

At the end of the day, Frank concedes to your suggestions of rest, settling for an evening of takeout and movies in bed. You finish your food and lean into him, half-watching the movie with your head resting on his chest.

After a while, you untangle yourself from him and hop out of bed. "Think I'll take a quick shower," you tell him. "Be back in a minute."

"Alright." Though you didn't ask him to, Frank pauses the movie for you and reaches for his phone.

As soon as the bathroom door is closed and locked behind you, you open the drawer. Much to your relief, the lingerie set is still there, neatly folded. You figured it would be, considering you deliberately placed it in the drawer that only contains your things, but still. It just wouldn't do to ruin the surprise.

Just as you promised, you take a quick shower. Afterwards, you brush and dry your hair, spritz on some perfume, and put on a bit of makeup.

Then, of course, there's the lingerie.

You take a moment to examine your reflection.

You really couldn't have picked a better set. The bra and panties consist almost entirely of black lace, with hints of skin peeking through sheer mesh. The garter belt ties it all together. The lace runs across your waist like ivy, fastened to your knee-high stockings by two thin black ribbons.

You feel great, and you look even better.

Having passed your own inspection with flying colors, you ease the door open and step into the bedroom.

Frank's gaze wanders from his phone to you. For a moment, you're worried that his eyes are going to pop out of his head.

His jaw drops as he sits up straighter against the pillows. "Holy shit."

"That sounds like a good reaction." You smile as you climb into his lap nonchalantly. "So, what do you think? Does it live up to the pictures?"

"What kind of question is that? Knew it would be even better in person. Fuck..." His eyes rake over your body, up and down, before seeming to stop on your chest. "You're so fucking beautiful... God... And all this, for me..."

"Just for you, babe." You lean in to kiss him. He meets you halfway, pulling you closer by your waist.

His kiss is wet and hot and deep and just so typical of him after going weeks without seeing you. He kisses you like it's been years since the last time he's done it, like he may never do it again. He kisses you like neither of you need air, like you could just live off of each other if you tried hard enough.

When he finally breaks away, his hands wander across your body. Much to your surprise, he's quite patient. He doesn't grab or press, just gently touches you like you're some fragile, breakable thing. Wild as they are, his eyes contain something that you find it difficult to put a name to, even after all the years you've spent together. You suppose the closest word would be devotion, though you swear it runs even deeper than that.

You grin as he runs his fingers over one of the ribbons on your garter belt. "Wanna take it off?"  you murmur.

Much to your surprise, he shakes his head. "Not yet," he says. "There's something I need to do first."

He gently pats your thigh, signaling for you to let him get up. You move off of his lap, watching curiously as he stands up and pulls his overnight bag from under the bed.

"Turns out I have a surprise for you, too," he tells you as he rifles through the bag's contents, still half-packed.

"Yeah?" You peer down from the edge of the bed, intrigued. "And what would that be?"

He doesn't respond until he finds what he's looking for, rising back to his feet.

You eye the camera in his hand with confusion at first.

He lifts it up to his face, aiming it straight at you. "Smile, honey," he commands, peering at you through the viewfinder.

Before you can react, the shutter clicks. A slip of film slides from the bottom of the camera.

Frank grabs the picture, shaking it back and forth a few times before looking at it.

He frowns. "Oh, come on, sweetheart. We can do better than that. You look like a deer in the headlights." He sits the picture aside before lifting the camera up again. "Go on. Pose real pretty for me. I know you can do it. After all, I saw the pictures you took."

Mind catching up with your racing heart, you turn to the side. You fold your legs beneath you before straightening your back, hands resting in the space between your spread thighs. "Like this?"

Frank gives you a hum of satisfaction. "Beautiful."

You hear a telltale click, followed by the whir of the picture being printed.

"That's it," Frank encourages you. "Give me another one, angel. Something sexy."

You grin, positioning yourself on your knees, back arched and arms stretched out in front of you, your hands digging into the mattress. "How about this?"

"That's perfect." Another click and whir.

Frank groans under his breath. "Fuck, baby. You look so good. How about one more?"

"What about..." You turn over on your back and run your hand slowly over your body, finally stopping between your legs. "This?"

He lets out another groan, louder this time. You can already feel the heat pooling between your thighs as he snaps another picture.

You aren't actually touching yourself, of course, — unlike the picture you had taken in a similar pose a few weeks ago and sent to Frank thirty minutes or so before his set. Still, the way that he responds makes it sound like he's getting his own personal X-rated performance, — which, you suppose, he's about to.

Once that picture prints, he climbs back into bed with you and kisses you again, even harder than last time. "Okay," he mutters as he pulls back. "Now I want to take it off."

He removes the garters first, followed by the panties. Finally, he takes off the bra, stopping to grab your tits. You give a breathy moan as he kneads the skin, his tattooed, calloused fingers brushing over your nipples.

"You make such pretty sounds, too," he comments. "Come on, baby. Wanna hear you."

You tilt your head back as he gives you another possessive squeeze, only to hear the camera click again.

Your eyes wander down to his hand, still holding onto the camera. Frank dives for your neck, pressing a long kiss just above your shoulder before moving upwards.

You wrap your arms around him as he pushes you back into the pillows. His mouth travels over your body, seemingly dead set on tasting every inch of your skin. You know that you won't just have hickeys on your neck in the morning, but on your hips and thighs, too. Every bit of you, marked by a reminder of him.

He meets your eyes as you tug his T-shirt over his head before reaching for his belt. He kicks aside his jeans and underwear before covering your body with his again, his lips returning to yours as he positions himself between your spread legs.

You wrap a leg around his hip, attempting to urge him closer to where you need him. Much to your dismay, he pulls back. "Wait."

You simply respond with an irritated groan.

Meanwhile, Frank grins like the cat who caught the canary, lifting the camera up once again. "This is one hell of a view."

Despite your initial eyeroll, you look into the camera's lens. You can only imagine what you look like, — completely naked, lipstick smeared, pupils blown wide. A thrill rushes through you when you realize that you will soon be able to see for yourself.

For now, though, Frank tosses the picture aside, kissing you again before pushing inside of you.

You gasp, clawing at his back. Though you know that seven weeks is little more than a blip in the long run, it feels like it's been an eternity since he's fucked you. You're greedy, wanting more of him, even though you're as close to him right now as you could possibly get.

Still, you try your hardest to hold him even closer as he sets an even rhythm.

It all feels so right, like you're exactly where you need to be. His hips press against yours like puzzle pieces clicking together. Your eyes wander over his tattooed chest before you lean in, running your tongue over the ink. You feel a spark of satisfaction as you feel the groan from deep in his chest.

"Fuck," he curses as you press harder against him. He thrusts into you particularly hard, hitting your G-spot.

You let out a broken moan, your head falling back against the pillow as your eyes flutter closed.

"Christ. You're perfect." He reaches for the camera again. He just holds it for a moment, his finger hovering over the shutter button as he keeps up his pace.

"Wanna take a picture of you when you come for me," he says. "Want you to see what it looks like when you come all over my cock. That's it, baby. So good for me, fuck..."

You hear the snap as soon as you fall over the edge. The fact that he's immortalizing this moment, — you, completely blissed out as he fucks you, — seems to make your orgasm all the more intense.

Even as you're coming down, you feel like you're on fire. You still want more. Whatever he has to offer, you'll take it. You are totally and completely his in every possible way.

"Such a good girl," he praises you before abruptly pulling out. You whine at the feeling of emptiness, just before he nudges you, — gentle, despite the fact that he was just fucking you at a bruising pace.

"Turn over," he orders. "Hands and knees."

Despite your trembling, you manage to oblige him.

As soon as you're in position, he slams into you again, eliciting a breathless gasp from you.

He remains still for a moment. "You good?"

You nod. "Yeah," you manage. "Just... Move, Frank, fuck..."

He clicks his tongue at you. "Oh, no, baby girl," he says, his thumb brushing lightly against your hip. "You are not going to get bossy with me. Not tonight."

Before you can offer a response, he tightens his grip around your hipbone, grabbing hard enough to leave a bruise.

You let out a string of high-pitched sounds as he pounds into you. He is relentless, his pace never faltering. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, Frank's groans, and your moans, quickly descending into helpless whimpering.

"Frank," you whine. "Gonna come again..."

"No, you're not." He releases your hip, only for his hand to come to rest beneath your chin. "You're gonna have to beg for that, baby. I was generous enough to let you come once, and how did you repay me?"

You feel your throat beginning to tighten. "I—"

His grip tightens around your chin. "You fucking smarted off at me," he practically growls. "I won't be making that mistake again. You'll either have to be a good girl and take what I give you, or..." His hold relaxes, leaving him to gently stroke your cheek. "You can beg real pretty for me. Let me know that you deserve it."

You swallow hard as his hand travels back down your spine, eliciting a shiver as he begins thrusting in and out of you at a slower pace. "Please," you mutter quietly. "Please let me come..."

"You're gonna have to be louder than that, baby," Frank says, speeding up ever-so-slightly. "Come on. Let me hear how fucking desperate you are."

"Please!" The plea comes out sounding a bit like a scream as the warmth deep in your stomach spreads further, warning you of your impending second climax. Much to your surprise, you feel a tear slide slowly down your face.

Shit. You're fucking crying.

"Please let me come," you continue to beg. "I'm sorry I mouthed off... I won't do it again, I promise..."

"Good... Fucking... Girl." Frank lets out a shaky groan, squeezing your waist again as he thrusts particularly hard into you. "That's it. Come for me, baby. Fuck, wish I had a video camera. Would record you getting off... Fucking crying while I fuck you..."

You let out a sobbing moan as you fall apart for a second time. This time, Frank stills inside you, muttering a garbled string of curses as he follows you over the edge.

You come down slowly, panting. Frank lets out a shaky sigh before pulling out and collapsing beside you. You have no issue following his lead, nestling your head between his arm and chest.

"My pretty girl." He presses a kiss to the side of your head before tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "You okay?"

You nod. "Yeah," you reply shakily. "Think I need another shower, though."

"I think I'll be joining you." He kisses your lips in a terribly chaste manner considering what you had just done before pulling away with a sly grin on his face. "But first..."

He reaches for the camera, sitting discarded beside of him, and angles it at the two of you. It is at this moment that you remember the other instant photos scattered around the bed, in various stages of development.

You wrinkle your nose, staring into the lens. "Jesus Christ, Frank..."

"Shh."

As soon as you see his finger hovering over the shutter button, you move to bury your face in his chest. "Frank..." you protest.

The click sounds before you can fully obscure your face, followed by the camera spitting out the picture.

Frank chuckles, shaking the photo back and forth. "There," he says, satisfaction dripping from his voice. "A memento."

You grumble as you look up at the picture. Of course, you look like a total mess, — mascara trailing down your cheeks, hair a wreck, lipstick worn away except for a faint reddish tint. Meanwhile, Frank looks like he might be in the running for the happiest man on the planet.

You shove him lightly as you roll away from his side. "You're the worst."

"Yeah, yeah." He sits up, picking up the various photos scattered around you. "Look, though."

You do look.

Seven pictures. One of you staring blankly at the camera. Three of you posing at Frank's enthusiastic encouragement. Two of you, lost in the throes of passion. And one of the godforsaken aftermath.

Frank chuckles, placing the pictures on the bedside table. "I'm gonna start carrying these in my wallet," he declares.

"The hell you are," you reply before tugging at his hand, pulling him along with you to wash away the evidence of your impromptu photoshoot.

-

Taglist (Ask to be included!):

@mysunfishpeedinmyroom @xocasper @clichedlovers @enchantinghouseofwh0res @yachiiko @dangerouslittlefairy @deadlovers

[thexgrayxlady]

Chuan, 36

36. To Lose Control

Chase staggered. At first, he thought he imagined it. Chase was far to proud to let someone see him hurt. How many hours had he spent worrying because he could not trust Chase when he said he was alright?

He drew back, preparing to strike again, but before he could ready his spear, Chase spun and tried to leap towards him. He stumbled to his knees, then regained his footing, his movements slow and ungainly. His lips drew in a thin line and his hair hung in a limp tangle over his face.

Chase doubled over, clutching his forearm. Spines erupted between his fingers. Guan backed away, a chill spreading through his heart and old instincts telling him to protect his friend.

He curled in on himself, the spines and scales slowly retreating, leaving smooth skin and shattered armor in their place.

He remained hunched over, his back spasming with every erratic breath. Then his hand fell away and by fractions of degrees uncoiled, swaying on his feet.  

His head tilted to the side, his mouth hanging slack, unable to drink in enough air. His eyes were wide and glassy, staring at a point far beyond Guan.

His back arched and scaled flared up his exposed arm, then vanished as quickly. His hands remained curled into claws.

Clenching his teeth, Chase lurched through a few steps more, the sheer strain of being written over his old friend’s features.

Then he fell forwards.

Guan’s spear clattered to the ground as he rushed to catch him. He half expected Chase to shove him away. Instead, Chase’s claws scrambled and dug into his back. He leaned his forehead against his shoulder, his breathing shallow and rapid as Guan held him upright. That he didn't fight made him hold on all the tighter.

His back rippled under Guan's hands. Spines sliced his skin one moment, then vanished the next. Blood dripped down his back as Chase writhed and shifted, his legs buckling and snapping.

He should let go. It would be safer. It would be more sensible. When he regained control of himself, Chase would never forgive him for this. They would resume their eternal battle, only he was unarmed and unable to get to a safe distance.

But if he didn't...That Chase let him see him losing his hard won control...That he clung to Guan like centuries of bitterness and enmity meant nothing in the face of what was coming, made him wrap his arms all the tighter, like he could hold onto whatever humanity Chase had left.

When Chase finally stilled, his pupils were blown so wide his eyes looked black in the fading sun. There was some relief in the familiar bitter anger they still held, but not much. Blood flecked his lips and spattered against Guan's chest with every ragged, gurgling breath. He trembled with the effort it took to hold this form.

And as much as he wanted to hope otherwise, he knew that whatever happened next, Chase wasn't coming back from this.

Chase's claws crept up his back, rested, shaking and clammy, on his shoulders and neck. His gaze was steady and unbreaking as it could be. His jaw set in determination, then too quick to brace against rending claws, Chase pulled him down.

Chase's lips met his, hungry and desperate.

Every time he imagined this, Chase never tasted like blood.

Chase nipped at his lower lip. One of his hands tangled in Chase's soft, dark hair. Their bodies molded to each other, and he wanted enough time to appreciate everything familiar and discover everything new.

This is everything he ever wanted. And at the same time, he wants none of it. There's a part of him that wanted to be angry that Chase would do something this selfish and impulsive, when he knew he wouldn't be left to pick up the pieces. But Chase won't be here to pick up the pieces. This is all they'll ever have.

And all too soon, Chase shoved him away and staggered back. For a few moments, his expression was of heartachingly familiar cocky, shameless satisfaction.

Then the man fell away and only the beast remained.

[f1-stuff]

Good morning/afternoon Mal!

I was reading your current first sentence(s) of your wips, and I have a couple of questions!

Are you writing a little mermaid/mermaid au with number 3?

And can you tell us a bit more about number 1 and 5?

Thanks for this and for giving amazing Charlos content all the time ♥️

Hi, good morning/afternoon to you too! (this ask is in reference to this tag game.)

Yeah, I was writing a little mermaid au but I had intended to finish it around the release of the live action movie and I clearly didn't 😅 I can share a little bit of it below tho, since I'm not sure if/when it'll get posted.

As for the others, 1 is the first sentence of a sort-of captive prince au which I've previously shared a snippet of here, and 5 is from a fic I started that's sort of like The Giver, in that people take pills to suppress emotions. I also shared a snippet of it here, but I think if I were to continue it, I would go back and rewrite a lot of it bc my ideas have shifted.

Anyway, here's a snippet of the little mermaid au, since I haven't shared it here before!

Sand and pebbles stick to his scales, the tide brushing the tip of his tail, as he stares down at the handsome face of the human. 

If Charles ignores the blood slowly drying on the man’s forehead, he looks almost serene in sleep, his features free of any wrinkle or worry. He can’t be much older than Charles, who is very young for his kind. The man’s lower lip is full and pink, and Charles finds himself entranced as he watches soft breaths pass in and out of the man’s mouth, his brows twitching faintly with whatever scenes are playing out beneath his lids.

Charles feels a bit faint, being so close to him - able to examine every freckle, every eyelash, every strand of thick, dark hair. He allows himself the satisfaction of brushing a stray wet strand from the man’s forehead and shivers at the contact, despite the fact that he’d already touched the human in order to drag him from the clutches of the angry sea and onto the beach. That had been contact in the midst of a rescue. This was touch to fulfill a deep desire within him that he hadn’t known existed until he’d finally set eyes upon the man’s face.

The wound on the man’s head bleeds sluggishly, the blood running down his face in small rivulets mixed with water. Charles isn’t sure how it had happened, but a part of the ship must’ve struck him, causing him to fall into the sea, unconscious. He'd remained out cold all through the storm, Charles’ arms straining to keep them both above water against the rock he'd clung to, until eventually, blessedly, the sky had cleared, the rain ceasing and the seas calming enough so that Charles could swim toward shore. The sun had just peaked the horizon when Charles hauled them both onto the sand. 

His sensitive fingertips tingle from caressing the rough skin of the man’s unshaven jaw. Not a soul is in sight at the moment, but Charles knows that will soon change. The survivors of the wreck will likely come looking for the man, now that the sun lights the sky. Humans can’t see in the dark the way merfolk can, and with the storm, they would’ve likely taken shelter until it was safe to emerge.

Still, Charles finds himself lingering, his heart beating out a staccato rhythm against his sternum. His eyes wander over the man’s body, his hand settling onto the reassuring rise and fall of his chest, which lay exposed from his torn shirt. His curiosity shifts his gaze lower still, roaming hungrily over the limbs that end in what Charles knows to be called feet. There’s hair down there as well, covering the man’s ankles and toes, and Charles suppresses the urge to reach down and touch.

He’s always been fascinated with how the humans walk about on land, standing, running, dancing in ways that seem to defy all logic. Charles has dreamed of having legs - dreamed of what it would feel like to jump and spin and fall... Sometimes, he wakes feeling as though his tail is the dream.

The man has still not woken, and Charles begins to worry. He isn’t sure if this is normal for a human, but he thought surely he would’ve shown some more signs of life by now. Charles’ lips part before he realizes what he’s doing, and then just as quickly snap shut. His heart pounds in his throat with the implication of what he’d been about to do.

It is deeply forbidden to use one’s song on a human. And despite all other lines that Charles has crossed today and other days, he’s afraid that using his song on this man would be too illicit a crime to forgive. 

And yet...

His eyes catch again on the man’s wounded forehead, the blood now dry, but with a bruise blossoming beneath it. What if, after everything Charles has done to keep him alive, this injury to his head will kill him? Everything Charles has done will have been for nothing.

It seems to him a worse crime for a being so handsome to be gone from this world. 

He decides on a middle ground, his lips pressing together as he begins to hum. The notes vibrate through his throat, filling him with an instant sense of peace. At first, he isn’t sure if it will work, but soon, the bruise on the man’s head begins to lighten and heal, and he stirs slightly where he lies. His brows furrow, but Charles continues, unable, or unwilling, to stop until the song is finished.

He startles, his voice wavering a bit, when he feels a hand sliding over his own where it rests on the man’s chest. He looks to see the man’s hand lightly covering his own, and somehow, his heart beats harder than it already is.

When he looks back to the man’s face, his eyes are fluttering open, and yet Charles is still glued to his side, his hum growing ever more confident as the man’s condition visibly improves. Large, deep brown eyes blink up at him, still cloudy with pain or exhaustion or both. Charles stares into them, and a feeling he’s never felt fills him through from head to tail.

Suddenly, his song is ending, his breath catching in his throat when he hums the last note. But he still feels frozen, his eyes caught in the human’s gaze, and his skin warm and alive where their hands overlap. The man’s lips are dotted with droplets of water and tiny grains of sand. Charles isn’t sure he’s even breathing, until he hears the sound of distant voices, getting closer.

He forces himself into movement, breaking away from the human with one last lingering look, before throwing himself back into the sea. His heart hammering, he doesn’t let himself look back until he’s far enough away that the humans would mistake his head for a seal. He sees, just in time, as the man is carried away off the beach, presumably to reunite with his ship’s inhabitants.

Charles stares at the now empty beach far longer than he should, eventually sinking beneath the surface when his skin starts to itch from the sun.