#been thinking about it but I already drew her so

[the-stars-and-the-tide]

8 comics that have inspired me!!

In honor of actually starting this blog I've drawn 8 characters from clangen or cat comics that inspired me to make my own!! Go check them out if you haven't already!!

the blogs are below the cut because i yap a lot about each lol

Eklunta - @loudclan-clangen - I think Eklunta is an interesting lady even though she's been dead for a while now. I like how she appeared in Siltsplash's mind after the kits were born. I really like how cats are drawn in this comic. They are so round and lovely and there is always so much drama

Wiggity Wacks - @fallenclan - I think it's really impressive how Fallenclan has so many characters yet all of them feel distinct in their own way. There's a reason they would be someone's favorite. I also really like the artstyle of this one!! I drew Wiggity Wacks because that is the silliest name I've ever heard and I also hope he keeps getting into situations. Stay silly Wiggity Wacks <3

Heartflicker - @vespidclan - I think the story of this comic is super interesting and I love how 404 works. She is a silly moth who can do no wrong !! I decided to draw Heartflicker because she is my fav so far. Sure do hope nothing bad happens to her!! (i say in fear)

Snompelt - @splinterclan - I'm really intrigued by the lore and drama of this comic. I also really love the designs of the cats so it was hard to chose who to draw. I'm really excited to see where this one goes!! I drew Snompelt because he's just a silly little guy :3

Suncat - @jumalanpelko - Read through all of this comic in one afternoon, and I haven't been the same since. The colors, shapes, and story are soooo good. Also wdym Suneve is upon us I talked to Her and She said Suncat was going to live a long and healthy life /coping

Rainhaze - @barrenclan - The first Barrenclan video was one of the things that inspired me to make the first version of this comic, back when the story came from clan generator and not clangen. I had a lot of fun following this comic until it ended. I drew Rainhaze because I like cats who do bad things but have their reasons

Condor - @wavesalwayscrash - The art of this comic was a huge inspiration for me, specifically how the backgrounds are drawn. The shading and the colors never fail to amaze me. I drew Condor because I also like cats who just do bad things :3

Candykit - @circus-clangen - I was originally going to draw Ringstar but momma raised a quitter so I drew Candykit instead. Her design is so cute! I really love the way the characters are designed and drawn for this comic. The mystery is really intriguing too I wish I was smart enough to try and solve some of the puzzles lmao

[husky4lyfe]

by my side [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi just broke up, and they want nothing more to be by each others side or.. an angsty fic abt azzi being at paige's table during the draft

a/n: hi guys.. this is kinda my first ever thing so be nice :') this is probably gonna be like three parts so yeah. also very angsty and kinda sad. (cus i love angst mmm)

word count: 1k ish (the next 2(?) parts r coming soon)

azzi and paige broke up just weeks before the 2025 wnba draft. everyone knew it was coming. for the better half of 7 years, they’ve been inseparable, never leaving each other's side. but paige, she was leaving uconn for good, off to play in the league. she never wanted anything more than for azzi to just be with her, like she’s always been. to be her rock, her light in the dark, they way no one was able to until she met her. but she knew that would never be possible. paige had her own life and so did azzi.

it all started 2 months before the draft. arguements after arguments arose, both wishing that the anger of the petty arguments was the only reason. not whatever reason making azzi cry every night after their daily facetimes was, or the reason paige would feel odd every time they would hug after a game. those were the times that really reminded them that their 4 year paradise with each other would soon end. and maybe they weren’t ready.

a really bad argument. just one really bad argument was all it took. a thing led to another and boom, their 3 year relationship ended. both of them never really had to tell the team. it’s like they already knew. who were they kidding? whenever they even just fought, the energy shifted so drastically, someone in the team would just end up forcing them to make up right after. they could never keep a fight, mostly because they knew that neither of them meant it. but this was different. it wasn’t a petty argument, or something that they would be able to sweep under the rug, it felt final. a final decision. 

when paige and azzi showed up to practice the next morning, they didn’t even try to hide it. not like they wanted everyone to know, of course not. not before the natty. but they knew that they wouldn’t be able to hide the sudden absence of the small glances of love across the court, or the bickering they did as if they were a married couple during practice. the uconn wbb team knew immediately, but no one wanted to accept it was truly over, so none of them pointed it out.

and so, they attended practice like usual. it hurt like hell for the both of them, but they both knew they had too much at stake to give up the natty for their relationship. they were together every single day. as teammates, though. not as lovers.

it all went by like a blur. practice after practice, press after press, ad after ad. the world wanted them together, hell, they wanted themselves together. but just as the world did, it seemed like their lives had other plans. they wanted so badly to hate each other. to forget about the past 7 years, as if none of it ever mattered. but that was impossible. how could they ever do that? 

they won the natty. it was over. the draft was in a few weeks and after everything, paige and azzi finally felt like they could breathe. paige was set to be the #1 pick, and azzi, the mop of the national championships. they both felt like they were on the top of the world. but why did it feel like something was missing? the thought that both of them could’ve been there, at the top, at the same time, holding each other's hands, exchanging looks behind the cameras lingered in their minds as they attended parties celebrating their achievements. but no, they were so far from each other. and it hurt so goddamn much.

it was yet another day both paige sulking when paige got a text from her assistant. 

assistant: hey paige, just needed an update on who’s sitting on the last chair on your table at the draft. was it drew, ryan or lauren you said?

p: hey man, i think i needa minute on that. how soon do u need confirmation?

assistant: it’s alright. take your time. just let me know before wednesday.

paige stared at her screen. she was asked this many times before. her entire family wouldn’t fit, especially with all 3 of her siblings and geno. she knew she would have to pick someone who isn’t one of her siblings. someone close. her mind drifted to azzi. it would be wrong to pick anybody but her, wouldn’t it?  all the family reunions she attended, her closeness with her siblings, the nights she’d spend in paige’s childhood room. paige only wanted one person in that seat. and it was azzi fudd.

fuck it, she thought. seriously, what’s the worst that could happen if she texted her ex of 3 years, asking her to be right there, with her family, on one of the most important nights of her life. she opens azzi’s number. old messages flood her screen, reminding her why this was definitely not a good idea. but she didn’t care. she typed out a message and sent it.

p: hey az, this is kinda an odd request coming from me n all, but i really want you to sit at my table during the draft. just this once. for the last time.

azzi had just got out of practice when she opened her phone. 5 notifications. one of them from paige bueckers. her eyes widened and she couldn’t believe it. a part of her was angry, that paige could just casually text her like that, as if the break up didn’t just destroy a part of her life. the text was paige asking her to be at her table. offering to pretend to everyone that they were fine, that they never really dated, that they’ve just been best friends these past few years. 

a: we really need to think about this first.

a: seriously, paige.

the last sentence that paige sent made it all wrong. what did she mean ‘for the last time’? was azzi the only one hoping, wishing, that they could both just make up and get back together? azzi didn’t want to sit with paige because she knew that it would mean goodbye. closure. a final sendoff. 

p: i have.

p: i don’t want anyone there except for you.

[iwoulddieforher]

Sink down beneath | c.novak × siren!a.cabot

why did I write this why did I write this hello??? why did I do that pfff I'm giggling so hard rn ... blame @cns-mari & @khvlani for encouraging this and @hocuspocusbabyy for not stopping me. also, I drew the banner. it was a doodle. don't come for me. probably could've made it better but I am SLEEPY

summary: Casey is lonely, accidentally becomes a monsterfucker because a siren thinks she has pretty hair

warnings for siren!amelia chase very graphically eating peter stone, kidnapping(?), kissing, sirens (obviously???) uhh implied sexual content, horniness ...

There are worse things in life than being unloved, Casey Novak tried to consider.

There are far worse evils than the bitter dread that rose in her throat at the feeling of deep loneliness.

It was hard to tell the ink-colored water apart from the void that was the sky. Where the moonlight was reflected on water, the silver at least revealed the texture of the water far below her- but staring out at the frigid horizon, Casey was too lost in thought to really register it.

Squinting out at the sea, she was lulled into a soothing state of mind by the repetitive rocking motion of the massive vessel she was only another weary passenger in. The water out near the coast of Boston was cold, and the air that carried the scent of saltwater and ocean prickled at her skin as she leaned on the railing, her head nestled in her hands.

Perhaps one of the reasons the cold was so noticeable to her tonight was because her face glistened with the evidence of tears. Not a big deal, or so she convinced herself. She had been crying more recently- so what?

She’d been on this boat for about three days now. She still hadn't seen most of it, and she wasn't even sure why she had said yes to coming here in the first place. All she really did was lay in the silk sheets of her overpriced bed in her small room, one amongst the hundreds that formed the labyrinth of other passengers.

Unlike them, she didn't entertain herself with any of the other accommodies. There were on-board casinos, filled with rows of gambling machines and dozens of tables where rowdy men drank beer while toying with chips and considering cards. There were fine-dining restaurants as well as more modest eating options, red-tinted bars with shelves so high and so full of alcohol it would take only an apocalypse to empty them, hell- even swimming pools and two large theaters. The ship was truly massive, a large contraption that sought to entertain and amaze those, especially ones who had never sailed before.

It took more than that to woo Casey, though. She wasn't quite sure if she’d be awed by anything, anymore, not in the depressive slump she had found herself in recently.

It wasn't like she hadn't been approached, being a single and attractive young woman on a ship where rich man went to have affairs, but the loneliness in her heart had grown so voracious the appeal of any half-hearted attempts of seeking idle companionship had been eaten alongside her will to get out of bed in the morning.

Attending a conference centered around law had been an attempt of hers to refind some sense of purpose. It wasn't that she was dissatisfied with white collar work, but something in it just felt lacking, especially recently. Especially since Charlie died, and she was now alone, and every second reminded of it- especially on this godforsaken ship.

She should've just flown. But that godforsaken hotshot at the DA’s office had invited her to take this stupid fucking cruise line, and the act of being invited somewhere had stunned her so immensely she hadn't thought it an option to say no until she was already locked into the commitment.

Some might say Peter Stone was an interesting man, but Casey found him quite annoying. With his muscular build, stupidly sparkly blue eyes and attractive face, he coasted through life with three women eyeing him at any time. Pretty boy Stone was making a name for himself- but frankly, and Casey knew she was being pretty shallow by thinking it, she wasn't sure if he was truly a good attorney or if the handsome looks and cheeky smiles he flashed at the jury box were doing more than his vocal prowess.

She had the great misfortune of having the room directly beside him, because they had booked under the same package. The sound of a headboard banging harshly against the wall that bordered on hers kept her up at night.

Perhaps she was standing there, then, out of the ship’s board near midnight, because she was hoping he’d tire himself out enough to groggily thrust a bit less forcefully. Perhaps she was simply depressed and thought the sound of waves crashing on the vast hull could soothe her. Perhaps it was neither- the ocean was rather alluring, after all.

“Get away from the railing,” someone demanded harshly behind her, and Casey startled. She spun around, her eyes narrowing with confusion, but it was only an anxious looking sailor.

A young man, who couldn't be older than twenty four. With hair Casey couldn't distinguish the color of under his prim sailor’s hat, he eyed her carefully. He seemed to be searching her face, her body language for something, but when she was nothing but bewildered he seemed rather sheepish.

“Oh, sorry ma’am,” He murmured, tipping his hat respectfully to her, “We’ve just had a lot of jumpers recently. The issue with having a good ship is the wackos keep thinking it's the perfect place to die.”

“That's not me,” Casey clarified, “But if it puts you at ease, I’ll return to my room.”

“Would perhaps be best,” the sailor said, smoothing down his ironed shirt, “it is late, and if anyone were to do something- well, that's why we’re patrolling, isn't it?”

He chuckled wryly, and Casey did her best to offer him a smile. She stepped gently away, the polished wood beneath her shoes clicking softly with her heels as she wandered back inside the maze of identical rooms in long, endless hallways.

Meters below, rounded eyes the color of obsidian surfaced from the depth to watch her go.

Stone was apparently not done with his pursuit, so Casey pulled a pillow over her head, which did nothing to muffle the vibrations of furniture slamming against the wall, and tried her best to fall asleep. Something inside her itched to go back outside, to keep blankly observing the ocean, but she kept herself still.

When she woke, strangely enough, it wasn't from the sound originating from the room beside her, but instead from the utter lack of. Casey sat up groggily, wiping at the salt on her inner eyes, before she started to hear a woman’s concerned, raised voice in the hallway.

Most of her wanted to go back to sleep, but as the voice raised louder, she became rather concerned herself. In her nightgown and tousled hair she crept to the door, opening it just enough to observe the unfolding situation.

“Peter,” a woman was imploring, “Peter, let go of me, what are you doing-?”

His hand was gripped around her wrist, and he was facing away from her, dressed only loosely in his boxers. He was trying to walk down the hallway, towards the door that led to the deck of the ship, and he was acting as though he couldn't hear her- his focus entirely on something else.

“Peter,” she tried again, “Let me go.”

Her voice was firm enough that Casey thought to intrude. She pushed the door open after glancing at the clock on her nightstand- it was three in the morning.

“Hey,” she tried when she stepped into the hallway, squinting in the bright lights of the hallway they never turned off. She hoped the additional presence would be enough to surprise him, and it was- when he turned around, his eyes looked almost manic, almost possessed.

“Casey,” he said as though enthusiastic to see her, “Can't you hear that?”

No, she couldn't. She couldn't hear anything but the faint music still playing from some direction, and the anxious breath of the woman who was clad only in a bra and panties that looked haphazardly pulled on. The back of her hair was mangled- they had just been having sex, but something had seemed to enrapture Peter.

“Come with me,” he said simply, “We need to go out, we need to hear it better. It sounds so … we need to go find it.”

Casey would not be surprised if they had been doing drugs, and they were most definitely drunk. The woman looked tipsy and utterly bewildered, glancing between Casey and Peter- She couldn't hear it either, evidently. She briefly wondered what drug would result in delusions, but whatever it was, she wasn't about to argue him back inside- if she got the woman detached from him, and made sure he got through the night, that was good enough.

She stepped forward and wrapped her hand around the wrist that was clenched around the other woman's, and Peter detached immediately, grabbing onto her instead. With a confused and exhausted shrug she threw over her shoulder, she motioned for the other woman to go get dressed as she began to sleepily pad after Peter so he wouldn't need to be as agitating in the pulling he immediately attempted to begin.

“What does it sound like?” She tried to soothe, and tried to gain a bit more information. Maybe in his doped state he was hearing the music from one of the casinos that hadn't yet closed, and it was confusing him.

“You can't hear her humming?”

He was facing determinedly forward, so she couldn't see his face when he said that, but now she was genuinely worried. He kept walking, his steps large and robotic as though pacing towards something with a time limit on it, and she was starting to walk progressively faster just to keep up with him. No one was humming- no one was around at all, and even then, if someone was humming a hallway away or out on the deck there was absolutely no way he should be able to hear it enough to be so enthralled by it.

“Peter,” she said softly, “maybe we should go back to bed, hmm? I’m sure we can find her tomorrow.”

“No,” he said harshly, whirling around with a glare on his strong brow. “No. I need to find her. If you want to deprive yourself of it you can leave but she’s calling me and I need to find her.”

She stared at him blankly and he turned around with a small grunt.

“She needs me,” he said quietly, stubbornly.

Casey could relate to the drive, the urge, the need to feel wanted by someone. She resigned herself to follow him as she tugged at her, walking as though he simultaneously wanted to drag her with him and also had forgotten he was attaching himself to her arm.

He marched out of the maze of hallways and out onto the deck, her eyes adjusting rather quickly to the darkness outside. The moon was just as beautiful as it was three hours prior when she had been staring at it, the sound of waves just as soothing.

“It's louder,” he told her, “Can't you hear it? She’s so much louder now.”

Casey was used to dealing with Charlie’s psychosis, but this felt bizarrely different. Charlie was paranoid and she had to fight him so he wouldn't hurt himself trying to scratch cameras out of his skin- Peter was adamant of a sound that clearly did not exist.

Until she heard it, too.

It scared her. Her ears had been perked the entire time, half of her hoping she could hear it just to ensure he wasn't slipping into delusions, but only when he started leading her to the starboard side of the ship did she manage to pick up on something.

A faint humming sound. She would've thought it was part of the ship, mechanics humming as gears or electricity burned through the energy it took the deep the ginormous thing moving, until it started adapting to a certain melody.

“I hear it,” she said faintly, almost as though she was scared of it. Perhaps she was. Casey did not fancy herself delusional. Had some of Peter’s drugs managed to rub off on her through… through skin contact? Acid could be transferred in patches, perhaps she was joining in on his psychotic beliefs, and she didn't like the idea of that happening. But it was growing steadily louder the more she tried not to focus on it.

Peter looked ecstatic when he turned around, happy that she finally understood.

“Where is she? We should find her, it isn't good for a woman to be out this late. Even on a ship, bad things can happen to someone so delicate.”

Casey could not conclude that the sound originated from a woman, and especially not identify any characteristics that person would exhibit, from the sound alone. It sounded vaguely like something she had heard before- a lullaby in childhood she had ingrained in her skull, but couldn't remember. There was something about it that was familiar, comforting.

She wanted to find her, too.

“Where’s it coming from?” Casey muttered, rubbing her eyes again and swiveling her head from side to side, hoping one direction would seem louder than the other, but it didn't.

Peter wasn't listening to her. Casey was yanked abruptly, stumbling off her feet as he was pulled towards the railing, and with a sinking feeling Casey realized he was right-

The sound was coming from the water.

She wasn't as far gone as he was- she still thought it best to ignore it, to go back inside, to go back to sleep. She wanted to find the woman but it was clear no human was alive down in the water- and no human voice could carry such a soft melody up the multimeter gap between the edge of the ship and the water far down below. Peter, clearly, was adamant.

“Stop,” she tried, “Peter, wait-”

He was trying to climb up on the cold metal railing, and it was such an odd sight- an esteemed lawyer in only his boxers briefs, one hand gripping Casey’s wrist while the other trying to help him hoist herself over.

With a sinking feeling, Casey tried to struggle against him- she tried to grab around his broad waist and pull him backward, away from the edge, but he was far stronger than her. She wasn't sure if he remembered he was holding on to her, and she wasn't sure if he even realized she was still there.

His eyes were void of anything in the flash of his face she managed to glance at during the brief spar, glazed over but utterly focused on the sound. She couldn't fight him for very long, not when a strong man like him was so adamant, so determined.

Two bodies hit the freezing water of the Boston coast after falling nearly four meters down to meet it.

Casey could swim, but not with waves like this, and not when she was in shock. She couldn't see anything but black around her, the side of the boat and the darkness of the frigid sea only distinguished by the vague flash of light when a wave managed to reflect the cold, all-seeing moon.

She tried to grab Peter's body, and tried to scream, but when she opened her mouth a wave crashed over her head, and she was sucked hopelessly under. She couldn't reach him, even though logically he should still be beside her. She didn't know where he was.

A small chorus of clicks and odd tones, animalistic in nature, was the last thing she could register as her limbs began to lose motivation to fight against the sheer power of the ocean. Casey was sucked under, her eyes stinging with salt as she let her eyes close, and realized with an odd, detached feeling, that she was going to drown.

‘Shoot’, Amelia communicated through a small chorus of undersea clicks made with the back of her vocals, ‘I only wanted a man. I don't like the girlish taste. A waste.’

Although her dialogue was sympathetic, her tone was entirely casual. She didn't care at all that her dinner had accidentally led to the death of another, and Alex wasn't at all surprised by her inability to carefully lure only one prey-thing.

Alex drifted alongside her companion while rolled over belly-up, eyes flickering up at the ship, hoping that no sailor or fellow passenger had picked up the odd incident. It wasn't her turn to eat, and with the bulky man she had snagged last night, she wasn't entirely inclined too.

‘If you were careful, Amelia’, she clicked back, eyes still honed in upwards, ‘You’d stop ending up with waste. Kill her, at least- I’ve heard drowning, for them, is unpleasant.’

‘But it's cute when their little limbs thrash’, Amelia observed, ‘look, Alex- she’s going all still now.’

For the first time, and with a sigh of bubbles that were scattered by the harsh waves as they drifted upwards, Alex shifted her attention from scouting to the body slowly sinking. Amelia was swimming little circles around it, observing, toying. She wasn't dead, not yet. With otherworldly senses like theirs, the sound of this woman’s blood rushing through her veins was echoing and loud. They could hear the heartbeat of the sailors patrolling the ship, the radio on in the Captain’s lounge- figuring out whether she had passed on wasn't at all difficult.

Amelia grinned at her, baring all her sharpened teeth, which were bloodied and the water around her mouth was dotted by gore. The man’s head- the true target- had been slashed off by the talons on her large hands, and she was ripping chunks of fleshy muscle off of it. She liked eating the heads first, as morbid as Alex found that- she said they were her appetizer. Amelia’s tail bumped against the woman's head, toying with her body as the cold water started to seep into the fragile human skin.

With the shift of force Amelia’s tail created, the woman’s head was turned softly into Alex’s direction. Her hair swirled around her head and shoulders, eyes softly closed as if interrupted in the process of her squeezing then shut, her lips parted gently- although she wasn't trying to breathe through her mouth. In unconsciousness, somehow, she was holding her breath.

‘Oh,’ Alex noticed, ‘She’s … pretty.’

She swam forward, propelling herself gently with a small motion of her muscular fins. Her large hands encircled the woman’s face, and she turned it toward her’s in the dark- but again, with eyes like her’s, she could see every detail without any sense of difficulty. Her pupils expanded just barely as she studied the soft curves of the land-creature’s face, glancing down to observe the rest of her body as well. She was taller than most of the other women she had eaten, if they did ever take a woman at all- men were by far easier, so it wasn't that common of an occurrence. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, Alex decided, this woman was incredibly beautiful.

‘Her hair,’ she clicked softly, ‘It’s a very nice color, don't you think?’

‘My hair is also red,’ Amelia whistled back indignantly. She was always interested in the opposite of what Alex was. If Alex’s attention was on the boat, her’s was fixated on the people- if Alex took her suggestion to study the woman instead, Amelia became bored with her.

Red was an uncommon color to the creatures of the sea- to some extent, at least. It was the color of morbid insides, and the color of a few fish’s scales. But a shade of red like this, Alex hadn't ever seen before on an organism.

‘Yours is red like blood,’ Alex corrected. ‘Her hair is like … like the sunset.’

‘Who gives a fuck about the sunset?’ Amelia snorted, her tail flicking just to emphasize her utter disinterest. She had similarly lost focus on the head, which was now slowly drifting downwards to the bottom of the sea, ripped off of the man’s broad shoulders and with the majority of the flesh and hair torn gruesomely off. The other creature was now reoccupying herself with the man’s body instead, jaws elongating as she sank her teeth into flesh and snapped her head back to tear large chunks of it off, eating far messier than Alex ever would.

Alex, too, was gripping the woman’s body with large hands and webbed fingers, but unlike Amelia she was careful not to dig her talons into the soft alabaster skin, not to prick or hurt despite the knowledge the woman wouldn't be able to feel pain in the state of cold shock her body must be in. One hand extended to brush against her hair softly, admiring the texture and feel of it against her rough palms, the way it parted around her claws.

Alex had no intention of eating her, definitely no intention of crudely ripping apart her limbs the way Amelia was currently struggling to dislocate and snap away one of the man’s arms. Amelia’s tendency to toy and disjoint was exactly why a staple of Alex’s diet was now the sharks that came to irritate them, drawn in by the bloodshed that was Amelia’s proud meal.

‘You could always scalp her and keep it,’ Amelia considered with a sly hiss through her teeth, when she realized Alex was still blankly observing the body.

‘Truly a shame,’ Alex whistled quietly as she let the length of her tail brush up against smooth, lithe legs that couldn't help her in a situation like this, ‘Such a gorgeous creature dead, because you suck at hunting properly.’

‘Hey,’ Amelia swirled around, affronted, her expression twisting into one of a more aggressive indignation. She bared her teeth, showing off the length of her fangs, but Alex didn't bother with accepting the chaotics of the younger creature in that regard.

She twisted her neck around, baring her own teeth- a more impressive size than Amelia’s, she noticed with a bit of pride, before parting her jaws and then snapping them shut with emphasis. Amelia recoiled slightly at the vibrations the aggressive motion caused, at the sight of Alex’s fangs. Alex was the more dominant of the two, elder and larger, and despite the fact Amelia's face still resembled stubbornness, with the way her frills flattened submissively against her tail, Amelia knew that too.

The annoyance that was her hunting companion dealt with, Alex considered what exactly she wanted to do with this beautiful woman’s body. She still wasn't dead, surprisingly, which Alex noted was incredibly resilient for a creature so fragile.

She could scalp and detach the parts she liked and keep them, as Amelia suggested, but her hair would quickly lose the glossed shine they exhibited after hours of being exposed to the saltwater world she lived in. Her body wouldn't be warm and soft, death would rob this woman her alluring quality. She could make a kill of mercy, slit her throat with a quick swipe of her claws or a sharp bite with her fangs, let the body join the detached head of her friend that was now but a speck in the distance below them, carried off by a current. She could let her drown and then toss the corpse up to one of the lifeboats, so the family who must love a woman this gorgeous could mourn. She couldn't return her alive, not after she had heard the hum of the sea, not when she could reveal to others what she had heard. They had been warned of allowing one who had heard to survive the night.

But oh- Alex very much wanted to keep her. Wanted to be able to admire her hair, the softness of her skin, the smoothness of her, the warmth a body like this radiated, for just a little bit longer.

Time was running out, she noted, as bubbles left the woman’s lungs and floated up towards the world she had been a part of. She was going to die no matter what Alex did about it, unless she decided to do something quickly.

‘I want her', Alex decided out loud, her tone a chorus of small contemplating clicks, ‘I’m keeping her.’

Amelia flashed her a look that Alex did not respond to, using the easy strength of her powerful muscles to raise the body up towards the air, letting the creature breathe. She didn't wake up, no, but once her lungs were full of air again, Alex clamped a webbed hand over her mouth and nose, diving down- deep, deep down.

When Casey woke up again, she was warm- impossibly warm, but comfortably so. She assumed she must definitely be dead, then, in heaven, to be curled so snuggly up to something radiating such warmth. But her body was sore and ached, and there was stone beneath her.

She felt groggy and odd, as though her brain was not part of her body. Her muscles felt coiled and tight, her mind fogged and each thought surfacing as though squirming through a vat of molasses. Still, she though she must at least attempt to regain her bearings. The last thing she remembered was breathlessness in cold, dark water, but she was breathing air now, and although she was damp, she was most definitely not underwater.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, still stinging with the effect of saltwater. She was expecting to be met with a great light or some kind of angel, only to find large rounded eyes the color of obsidian studying her face with interest.

She tried to scramble backwards but slipped on the slickened rock, wincing as pain jolted through her wrist.

“Shhh,” the thing lulled, tilting its head at her sympathetically, “Come closer- you are so very cold.”

Casey wasn't sure why, but she stopped trying to back away automatically, although her eyes still circled as she tried to take in what exactly she was looking at.

The easiest thing to acknowledge in the environment she had woken up in was the fact she was in a cave. A broad, sprawling cave that seemed to branch out in various directions, although in most ways it seemed to cut off, diving down into an aquatic depth Casey would not be able to explore.

There was one less than three meters away, and from the trail of water on the stone, that must have been where the creature had surfaced- how the thing had brought her in here.

In one direction, though, sunlight snuck its way inside, illuminating a soft glow reflected by what seemed to be sea-polished stones set up around as though someone was decorating the walls. Because of that ray of the sun, Casey was able to fixate her eyes on the creature beside her.

The body was large, lithe, and intrinsically she knew it was incredibly dangerous. The torso was nearly identical to a human’s, and the head too- blonde hair was plastered against the skin of its face, remnants of the water that the creature was slick with. Its face looked almost human, if it wasn't for the sharp teeth and black gums exposed by its gently parted lips- and for the fact that it had no ears, only holes on the sides of its head. Its eyes were mostly pupils, dark and all-encompassing.

The rest of it was significantly not human. A large, thick body like a leopard seal’s- as though where the neck of a seal’s should've been, a human body sprouted. At the end of its tail, large paddle-like fins twitched gently, flicking back and forth the way a cat’s tail tip did. Frills stretched along the sides of the tail, as well as one near the base of its spine.

Its hands were large, webbed and tipped with nails as sharp as daggers. One was secured gently around her waist, urging her closer to the thing’s body, the other resting idly stretched out on the floor as the creature stared up at her, laying on its side.

Her first thought, oddly enough, was that as strange as the creature’s appearance was, it was very beautiful. Its eyes seemed soft despite the danger of the teeth that glinted just barely from inside of its maw. It seemed to be smiling softly, looking at her more attentively than Casey had been perceived in a long while.

“You're warm,” Casey said stupidly, “How are you … so warm?”

“Humans die when too cold,” a clipped, feminine voice spoke from the creature’s mouth, human except for slight inconsistencies in the tone, in the way her mouth moved. Its vocals were different from a human’s, chords built differently with a unique larynx. “I did not want you to die. There exists a hot spring near us; but I did not want you to burn. I do not know how much warm a human can be. I swam around in it until my surface was warm. I hoped that proximity to me while I was warm would warm you, too.”

Casey stared at her, her mouth agape slightly in perplexion. She had realized what this creature was while she spoke- what type of being she was in the presence of.

“A siren,” Casey recognized in a whisper, trying to grapple with what was happening to her. There was no way a faint trace of drug exposure from Peter’s recklessness had caused this intense delusion, but from the pain in her wrist, she knew she wasn't dreaming.

The creature’s face broke into a small, confused smile.

“I did not think you would know of us,” she spoke softly, “I thought we took good precautions.”

“Well, I didn't think you were real,” Casey clarified, her eyebrows scrunching softly. Frankly, with how drowsy and disoriented she felt, she wasn't quite sure she even truly was.

She realized it was now cold as she had backed away- the webbed hand on her waist was the only place she was still warm. In slow, tentative movements, she squirmed a bit closer, and the creature let out a soft sound as if pleased by it.

“Come here,” she twisted her hips slightly, allowing Casey more contact to the softened, slick fur that coated her tail and lower abdomen, “If I wanted to bite, I surely would have.”

“That’s a poor joke,” Casey muttered, “...you most definitely could shred me alive with teeth like that.”

The siren smiled, the large teeth Casey had just mentioned visible as her eyes narrowed with amusement.

Despite her words, she took the offer, pressing the skin that had begun to shiver with cold against the body warmed by water the siren had subjected herself too specifically in Casey’s regard. It was an unfamiliar feeling, unlike the texture of any living creature Casey had ever touched before, but it wasn't unwelcome. One of its arms wrapped around the small of her back, and the other extended to prop up her head softly, keeping her head from needing to rest on the cold floor.

“Do you feel hurt?” The siren asked, a small clicking tone behind the vowels as she tried to pronounce words properly in English- how she could speak English, Casey had no clue.

“What do you mean?” Casey murmured sluggishly, her eyes drifting shut as warmth enveloped her again. Her head did hurt, actually, and her body was sore.

“You fell a great distance off the ship,” the siren considered, “Do you want the hurt away?”

“The hurt away?” Casey echoed, confused, only for the other arm of the siren to catch around her shoulders and for the large body to roll, pulling Casey to rest above her.

Casey felt mildly flustered when she realized the siren’s sternum still held breast, and her head was now only just slightly above them. She squirmed slightly, surprised by the new position and wanting rather to back away again, readjust her bearings, wait until her mind was cleared.

“You are moving,” the siren said, her tail flicking to emphasize the way her voice had grown stern, “Stop.”

“You are naked,” Casey protested, trying to raise her body up, but with the press of strong hands, one on the middle of her spine and the other on the small of her back, she wasn't able to move very much. “Wait,” she paused, realizing her own skin was similarly very exposed, “where the hell did my clothes go?”

“Humans and their customs,” the siren sighed, and although Casey couldn't see her face, she was pretty sure the creature had just rolled her eyes. “What good are clothing pieces in the sea? I do not need them. And you are in clothes. Your on-top clothes were freezing you, I had to take it off if you were to be warm again. It is over there.”

The fins that tipped her tail moved to motion in a direction, and Casey’s eyes scrolled over to observe that her nightgown had been carefully placed against a rock, smoothed against it, to dry. How the siren had managed to get it off of her with talons as sharp as her’s, Casey wasn't sure. She must have been very careful.

“Your underneath-clothes are on, out of respect, because your kind seems to be so panicked when they are not. You are welcome. They were keeping you cold, though. Just so you know.”

Casey realized, yes, her bra and panties still adorned her otherwise bare form. The siren sounded rather exasperated- but then again, Casey supposed, she was right. Soaked, freezing clothes would not have helped her very much. She tried to relax again, tried to settle down onto the warm, muscular body beneath her, but it was a bit hard knowing how close she was to something that looked identical to a human woman's breast.

“Your heart beats fast,” the siren observed in her clipped tone. At first, Casey thought it was making fun of her, but then the siren followed up gently. “It was slow before. I was worried.”

“Why were you worried?” Casey questioned, her brow furrowing slightly. Sirens ate humans, didn't they-? Surely that had been Stone’s fate. Perhaps out of honor to him she shouldn't be cuddling up to this one, but something in her didn't seem to care that much. Not when she was so warm, and apparently so caring.

“I do not like when pretty things die,” the siren muttered after a pause. “And you are pretty.”

“Thank … you?” Casey muttered, slightly distracted as one of the webbed hands raised up, shifting from the middle of her back up to her head to stroke incredibly gently through her damp hair.

“You do not believe it?” The siren said, a question in her tone. Casey pursed her lips, shifting her head slightly, nuzzling deeper into the warmed skin and further into the hand that took such caution trying to touch her.

“Not particularly.��

“Par-tic-u-lar-ly,” the siren repeated, sounding out the syllables. Casey noted that somehow the being below her, too, sounded rather tired. It was daytime judging by the day of sunlight from somewhere above them- perhaps sirens were nocturnal.

“Well, if you were not, you would be drowned. So, evidence, no?”

“Mhm,” Casey considered half-heartedly. “I haven't ever seen a siren before, but by human standards, you're quite beautiful too.”

The siren smiled, and Casey shifted her head up so she could study the human-resembling face again. She had high cheekbones, thin yet pretty eyebrows, and her lips looked soft, her Cupid's bow shaped. Yes, by human standards, a face like that could easily model. Unless she ate the photographer, Casey considered wryly. But for some reason- apparently because the siren found her pretty- she wasn't going to eat her.

“Your cheeks are warm,” the siren noted, and this time she was making fun of her. Casey huffed and placed her face back down, her arms shifted to softly bracket the siren’s human shoulders.

“I will take the hurt away now,” the siren clarified, “So be still, and listen.”

With her ear pressed against the creature’s chest, Casey had no option but to do anything else.

Casey had watched documentaries about the sea before. Apparently the vibrations created by dolphins could soothe nerves- she wondering if the effect of the soft sound created in the chamber of the siren's chest was doing something similar, because the second she started singing- although, Casey wasn't quite sure it could be considered that- the pain was replaced by a flood of an indescribable, soft emotion.

Her voice was softer than the melody Casey had heard on the ship- that one had been alluring, seductive, but in a femme fatality sort of way. This was gentle and encompassing, the soft vibration like honey on her tongue, like being bundled up near a fireplace. Her breathing evened out automatically, and her heart followed suit. As though she was under a weighted blanket, she felt herself relax and fall deeper into the comfort, the webbed hands that now held her.

“Oh, fuck,” Casey groaned, squirming as though trying to get her head even closer to the source of the sound. The siren made something that could only resemble a chuckling sound, but the gentle hum did not stop through it. Her anatomy must be far different than Casey had assumed it to be.

“I like the way your breathing sounds,” the siren noted, and Casey blinked her eyes open deliriously. It was hard to pay attention to anything else when she felt so soothed, energy seeping from her limbs alongside any sense of discomfort or pain, leaving her a content, boneless heap on the siren’s sternum.

“Someone looks happy,” she whispered, webbed hands gently cradling Casey’s face, brushing the soft skin of her cheeks incredibly carefully, as to not accidentally prick her with the claws that tipped each finger. Casey made a small cooing sound in the back of her throat, which Alex smiled at.

“You're talkative,” Casey noted drowsily, glancing down at her. “How are you talking and singing at the same time?”

“I have four lungs,” the siren responded, as if it was obvious. “Two sets. One can speak. One does that. Both for breathing.”

“Aha. I have two … er, one set of lungs. For talking. And … breathing.” Casey mumbled, caught up in the melodious, soothing hum, drowning any sense of logic or thought process she had.

“I know,” the creature soothed, running a curved talon down the length of Casey’s body, making her shiver against it. “I can hear you. I can hear how the blood in your body swirls.”

The hand that was stroking against her side continued exploring softly, the siren content to let Casey bask in the soothing feeling her singing brought as she enjoyed how soft, how warm the human was, now that she had successfully fostered her back to life.

Casey groaned softly when Alex pressed the palm of her hand against her hip, shifting the woman back onto her side and off of her body, so Alex could curl around her. Her tail slipped between Casey’s legs, her hand resuming the previous position- one protecting Casey’s head from the floor, the other wandering around the warmth of her chest, her abdomen, feeling the organs work below her skin. It fascinated her, the way her body was so different from anything under the sea. The pads of her fingers as she explored could feel the pulse of her warm blood beneath her skin.

She had ears that stood outside of her head with little holes in them that held shiny metal, for some reason. Only one heart, but a large one- two lungs, no gills. Arms, legs, with bones inside of them. No fins, but they wouldn’t have had any purpose above water. No tail, although there was a tailbone.

Casey seemed too relaxed, too dazed to care much about the siren’s examination of her form, although her body twitched gently when Alex probed a nail against the soft line of her abdomen.

“There are many nerve-endings there,” Alex muttered to herself more than to Casey, her eyes trained on her lower abdomen, just below her navel. Blood was thrumming there, activated by the sensation of her nail against pale skin. “How interesting.”

“Don't touch,” Casey muttered, and Alex lifted her hand away obediently.

“Nevermind,” that notion had only lasted barely a few seconds, her eyes flickering back open to examine Alex’s own impossibly dark ones, “Keep touching.”

“Is that because I am warm, or because it feels good?” Alex asked quietly, her tail flicking back and forth in a way that made a small thumping sound against the stone below them. She didn't need the answer, not really, with the way Casey’s heart had sped up. But still, it felt more respectful to ask.

The more animalistic part of her, the side that knew technically this animal was something her kind preyed on, was mildly confused why she cared to be respectful. But they could speak the same language, and she had no doubt humans were on par with her intelligence- if not beyond it, even, with their increasingly elaborate inventions- so it was more like holding a captive. But Casey hadn't asked to leave yet. Alex wasn't quite sure what she would do when she did ask to leave, but for now, she got to keep her. She got to have her.

If sirens were anything- they were possessive. Possessive of their social status, protective of the shiny objects they collected to hoard, protective of their meals and their families. How Casey fit into that, she had no clue. She liked thinking, though, that this creature was her’s now. She had saved her from dying, after all.

Humans had rituals for things like that, didn't they? It gave Alex an idea, if Casey would be receptive to it.

“I’ve warmed up enough,” Casey clarified, “It felt good. Do … Do sirens have names? My name is Casey, just so you know. I’m assuming I’ll be here a while, unless you change your mind for a midnight munch.”

“Alex,” Alex responded after a small pause while she tried to figure out how the combination of clicks and whistles that spelled her name would sound like in human-speak, and while her eyebrows raised at the wry joke, “I am called Alex. And I won't eat you.”

Casey’s hands, smaller than Alex’s but not significantly, reached out for a webbed hand and guided it back to her hip. Alex smiled rather smugly and ran her thumb along the bone that jutted out- sirens did not have hips like that. From the breath that left Casey’s nose, Alex could concur that Casey liked that.

“Legs are so interesting,” Alex continued speaking, running her hand down the curve of Casey’s thigh. “How you can balance on them, things like that. Octopi have legs, but they shuffle around on them. You stand. You can walk, run. How … interesting.”

“Gravity,” Casey mumbled, a small huff leaving her nose, her eyebrows scrunching gently as Alex switched to the other of her thighs, “Birds are also bipedal.”

“Birds?” Alex echoed. “Birds fly, with wings. And I see them sit sometimes. They walk?”

“Yes,” Casey said, but she seemed increasingly distracted. “Birds can walk. Surely you’ve heard them walking around on the deck, in the mornings on the ship there’s flocks of them.”

“Oh,” Alex chuckled, “Is that what the little tap-tap-taps are?”

“Yes,” Casey affirmed, twisting to lay on her back instead of her thigh. Her face, though, still was angled in Alex’s direction. Her eyes were half-closed with eyelids that did not resemble Alex’s. Alex blinked with her inner eyelids, the transparent membrane she used to protect her eyes from the saltwater of particularly water-fogged nights when the sea seemed as restless as the hunters who circled for a bite to eat, just to toy with her. As she expected, Casey seemed more focused when she realized a new part of Alex’s anatomy had just been used- Casey was trying to examine her the same way Alex was examining her, but Casey’s hearing was far less advanced.

“Birds do not have legs like this,” Alex noted. “Not so soft and so …”

Casey made a new sound when Alex gently scratched at her exposed inner thigh with her nails, skimming the soft skin, letting her feel the sharp edge. She whimpered. Her eyes squeezed shut and her thighs jerked the slightest bit further open, the muscles in her stomach contracting. Alex smiled, black gums exposed even though Casey couldn't see. She did it again and Casey's head rolled to face the ceiling, another small sound coming from the back of her throat.

“So sensitive,” Alex breathed, her face edging closer. Casey’s jaw clenched.

“People, um- we- … I’m not used to touching there,” Casey tried her best to explain, “Normally only for- for a … purpose, Alex, ...”

“Oh?” Alex questioned, drawing herself even closer still, her front pressing against Casey’s side, and she heard Casey’s heart beat faster at the feeling of her breast. She moved her hand back up, prodding gently at her abdomen, and relishing at the sound of Casey’s groan. “And what might that purpose be?”

Casey’s eyes opened, squinting at the ceiling, and then her head lulled to the side, squinting at Alex’s smug smile instead.

“I, um … it's … you know. People do … things … sometimes too …”

“Silly woman,” the siren cooed, her tail slapping against the cold stone floor with amusement. “You think I do not know what I’m hearing? Your abdomen pulses with arousal.”

Casey’s eyes narrowed, but her pupils expanded slightly with fluster, with surprise. “I…”

“That is what all the nerve endings are for,” Alex reasoned, “that is why you respond so instinctively when I do like this.”

Casey’s jaw parted, her eyebrows furrowing with building emotion, when Alex ran a talon softly down the length of her abdomen, stopping only when interrupted by the waistband of her underwear.

“Is that what your song does?” Casey argued breathlessly, sitting up, and Alex removed her hand from her body as she watched her shift her torso up in a way Alex was literally unable to do. “... makes me- aroused? Complacent?”

“No,” Alex said seriously, yawning submissively and ducking her head, before remembering Casey probably wouldn't understand that. “Siren song cannot make you feel anything other than curiosity for its source, or soothe your nerves. Slightly altered, and can make you feel painless, so- good, but not good in that way. Only two purposes. And I wasn't singing to pique your interest, because, well, you are already next to me. It would be pointless to make you try to follow me while I am … directly beside you.”

“So I'm getting horny for an evil version of a mermaid only because the evil version of a mermaid is touching me right?” Casey said dryly, rubbing her forehead with her hand. “Jesus. I knew I felt lonely, but that's…”

Alex made several indignant clicks in her throat, siren-speak, before switching back to English- although Casey couldn't shake the feeling she had just been cursed out.

“I am not,” she said firmly, “an evil version of a mermaid. Those things are-” she cursed again in a language Casey couldn't understand, “annoying and they are fish. I’m a- … words …- mammal. Like you. Not fish. And horny? You have to translate that.”

“Aroused,” Casey said wryly, “Horny means aroused.”

Alex’s lips curved upwards and Casey knew she was being smirked at, but she couldn't pull her eyes away from her lips- pink, just like a human’s were. From the waist up, with the exclusion of her lack of ears, spiked teeth, incredibly large pupils and webbed hands, Alex looked entirely human. It did not help the fact she was struggling to admit she liked the way Alex’s hands felt on her skin when the siren touched her so carefully, so intentionally.

“Your heart is beating quite fast,” Alex agreed, pushing her torso up with her arms as best she could, and Casey tried not to glance down at what else she had that looked like a person’s. Alex scoffed softly, her eyebrows raising- of course she would notice.

Her tail interrupted the silence as she dragged it around to curve at the other side of her, her fins tapping restlessly against the floor, making small sounds at the water that must have ended up there from when Alex had dragged herself out of the unending pool beside them.

“Do sirens kiss?” Casey asked impulsively, her voice suddenly a bit shy.

Alex laughed at her.

“I am not against trying it,” Alex smiled, “Although I have not before.”

Casey bit her lip, averting her eyes as her cheeks colored further, tucking her knees up to her chest. Within what she assumed was a few hours, she had gone from feeling utterly alone in the world to having a creature of mythological legend down to … what, kiss her?

“Why?” Casey asked, fixing her eyes on Alex’s again, a note of accusation in her voice. Lawyerly, like she was cross examining someone’s motive. She knew she was powerless against a creature as strong as a siren was, but if Alex was completely against hurting her, it wouldn't hurt to try to regain a sense of control. Alex seemed to want Casey’s consent, after all. She seemed to be caring towards her, despite being a literal maneater.

Alex seemed to falter, slightly. She didn't have eyelids like Casey did, so her face scrunched slightly like a seal’s when she made an exaggerated blink. Her flirtatious pursuit seemed to pause.

Her tail fins flicked back and forth like an anxious cat’s- Casey found herself watching the movement as Alex thought how to phrase herself.

“I take pretty stones here,” she said, tilting her head to motion towards the formations that glinted light that Casey had noted to herself earlier. “I like thinking that they are mine. You are a pretty thing, and from our speaking, I find your mind also enthralling. I … want you to be mine. When humans want someone to be theirs, they do that, don't they? So I want to.”

“Objectifying a woman by comparing her to a pretty stone is inherently misogynistic.” Casey clarified, and Alex’s face scrunched immediately with confusion. As good English as the siren was capable of, those words were too big for her.

“Doesn't matter,” Casey shook her head with a snort, making the decision aloud.

She’d slept with people for worse reasons.

She parted her legs and extended her arms, inviting Alex to drag her much larger body between them. “Come here.”

It was much harder for Alex to move on land, although there was absolutely no doubt that she was lithe and agile in the water. Her arms were barely strong enough to drag her forward, so she bounced once, her larger body weighed down with a tail that moved only awkwardly when held down by the weight of gravity. Casey would chuckle, but that felt kind of rude. Besides, once Alex was so much closer, the thought quickly left her mind.

Alex did not know how to kiss, but apparently she knew the gist of it, because her lips parted slightly once her face was only a few inches away from Casey’s own. Casey led at first, then, cupping the smooth skin of Alex’s face with her hands and pressing her lips against hers.

At some point, the temperature dynamic had switched. Alex’s warmth, gained from circling around in a hot spring until she grew uncomfortable with the heat, had subsided. Casey’s body had warmed back up, and unlike sirens, her skin- softer and much thinner- radiated it. Alex seemed enraptured by it, pressing herself closer immediately, sliding her arms over Casey’s knees. Her bare chest pressed up against Casey’s, and the human woman groaned into Alex's mouth.

She tasted like saltwater, which seemed obvious. Her face was cool under Casey’s hands, perpetually damp but not in a way that felt repelling. She drew her closer, her tongue carefully examining Alex’s- when Alex countered, Casey realized a siren tongue was slightly longer.

Alex’s confidence had grown. Her tongue pushed Casey’s back, and she kissed more intently, now that she figured out what she was doing. She shifted the weight of her torso to one arm, her tail curving to the opposite side to try to balance it, so one of her hands would be freed to grasp at Casey’s shoulder, thumb extending over to brush at her collar.

Alex remembered humans could not breathe through anything but their noses when Casey pushed her shoulders lightly, separating them so she could pant, her face flushed. Alex watched her breathe with widened eyes, as if the act was enchanting to her.

“Do you not breathe through your nose?” Casey mumbled breathlessly, leaning her head back against a conveniently ridge of rock behind her. Alex shook her head, her free hand leaving Casey’s shoulder to point at her neck, and at a space somewhere below where her hips would be if she was human. Anatomy that vaguely resembled a whale’s blowhole was offered up for Casey’s inspection. Alex had said she had four lungs, and apparently two of them were much below where Casey had expected them to be- closer to the base of her tail. Alex could probably hold her breath for hours with a body like that, so even if she had needed to use the nose on her face, she wouldn't need too for far longer than Casey.

“What’s this for, then?” Casey wondered out loud, her hand drifting to trace the gentle slope.

A smile showed the edges of teeth that had just been pressed up against her's.

“To make me more attractive to you.”

“It worked,” the woman responded with a snort. Alex kept grinning.

“Some people,” the siren said slowly- the part that went ‘that I’ve eaten’ went unsaid- “have markings on the curve of their necks like someone had sucked on them. I understood it was for this purpose. May I try?”

Casey hesitated only briefly before brushing her hair over her shoulders, tilting her head to the side to expose her neck. Alex’s dark eyes told her she'd be gentle- and besides, with how careful she had touched her before with talons like razors extending from each tapered finger, Casey supposed she didn't need to be scared of her now. Still, her heart beat faster in her chest, her breath coming in shallow pants.

Cold lips attached to the point at which her neck connected to her collar, and she clenched her jaw not to whimper. Alex suckled incredibly gently, so gently that Casey had to press her hand to the siren's blonde head just to encourage her on.

Alex seemed very satisfied when she detached, pressing another softer kiss to the same point as she admired the mark she had made, the faint bruise blooming and standing out on Casey's pale skin.

“If you had nails like mine you could scar me,” Alex murmured, her eyes flickering from Casey’s neck to her eyes and back again, “That is what we do to mark ours.”

“I’ll settle for this,” Casey said with a small burst of courage, brushing blonde hair plastered against smooth, thick skin out of the way to suck her own mark where the siren’s jaw met her throat.

Alex made an odd mewling sound, as if her breath had caught somewhere between the siren vocals and the human-mimicking ones. Casey smiled against her skin and kept going, pressing kisses against her skin, until Alex made a small pattern of clicking sounds. She was cursing at her again- in a better way, this time.

“Your fins..” Casey noted quietly. The frills along Alex’s tail had unfurled, holding themselves up impressively on the appendage. The webbing between them was soft, pink like her lips, like the webbing between the fingers she had placed back on Casey’s thigh.

“I am… aroused, too,” Alex murmured as though she was faintly embarrassed by it, and had only just now realized.

It was Casey’s turn to smile smugly at her. Her frills stretched even further open, swaying back and forth as if unconsciously trying to show herself off. An intrinsic eagerness to display something, as observable as the thrum of blood in Casey’s lower body was to Alex’s ear.

“I want you,” Alex breathed, her eyes blowing wide with a sudden burst of energetic desire, her tone different- rambled, needy. “And I want to make you want me.”

Her body was shifting now, adrenaline seeping into inhuman veins and resulting in something that could only be described as a squirm as Alex tried to press her torso closer against Casey- and Casey, god, could barely process that she had a beast-creature, a literal siren, squirming for her.

“I already do,” Casey responded automatically, without giving herself the chance to be muffled or sly or at all smart about it.

Alex bared her teeth, a show of dominance the way she had shown off to Amelia hours prior, and she was about to slink back- Casey probably wouldn't perceive that gesture properly, after all- before realizing Casey’s breath had caught and the blood was rushing to her abdomen faster. She liked her display of teeth and talons and power. She liked her.

“How does this work?” Casey murmured in a breath higher than anything she had heard from her before, “I- I don't think, with talons like yours, you could- touch me like that. You don't have a dick, do you?”

“I have a tongue,” Alex responded, as if that, too, was obvious. “And I am very sure you will find I am good at using it.”

There are worse things in life than being eaten out by a siren who wanted her, Casey considered, but not with a scoff.

Ultimately, yes- Alex turned out to be quite good at using it.

[swirlyyygal]

Heyyy Beach Boy!!!

His Beach Girl and Her Beach Boy!! (More of a Drabble than a full fledged fic)

Jason Duval x F!Reader = !!BASED ON THIS Porn-link!!

CW/Tags!!: Reader has a keywest kitten kinda vibe, porn w/o plottt ( ͡°/// ͡°٥), reader is described to have hair no length specified, sweet kinda ditzy and bubbly reader, If Jason is lowkey mischaracterized plz forgive me we know literally almost nothing abt him so I’m going off of the trailer 💔, Fingering, overstimulation, NOT PROOFREAD JUST #HORNY, lowkey for my own little desire EEEYUP, pet names (angel, doll, sweet thing, dumb little angel, good girl), slight dumbification, squirting AH WHAT

A/N!!: Hi hiiii!!!! Sooo who’s excited for GTA 6? ME. I’m ready to CRACK Lucia and Jason likeee who’s with me? Anyway, it’s been major hot where I roam recently and it’s been reminding me Summers up and coming soon!! This is also me kind of projecting my own little fantasy in my mind sooooooo uhhhhh… GOMENEN. I feel a little guilty when I remember I was scrolling thru and found the vid. I IMMEDIATELY thought of Jason. I would have done Joel Miller but I already wrote a lot for him, plus, Jason needs some love too (╥////╥)!! I guess I’m just kind of getting used to letting out my freaky side more, so like everything I let out is liek oh my gah I’d never admit this b4!!!! Anyway, Please enjoy!!

~~~

It just sorta happened.

One moment you were out and about with your friends near the beach. The next, you see a totally RIPPPPEDDDDDD guy lifting weights with little to no effort needed.

“HEYYY BEACH BOYYYY!!!”

You called out just to play around, waving and giggling.

He sat up, sweating and fanning himself before turning to you. Subtly eyeing you and your little light blue and pink bikini. You stood there, a bit frozen before your friends pushed you over to him. Hounding you to get his number. You’re the one that called him out anyway. Thinking you were about to get rejected anyway you did, putting on that signature smile of yours while twirling your hair.

And believe it or not, he gave it to you. And that was only the start of your relationship with this man. The man being, Jason Duval.

He called you that night, offering to take you out and the rest was history. You learned a lot about him, but very little about his job. He kept that part of him a bit in the dark, but did you care? Uh no. Not when he was spoiling you with affection and gifts at every turn.

A new bikini set? Yours. The most adorable makeup? Already on your vanity. Cutesy, frilly lingerie? Delivered to you the next day.

You liked being with him, and he liked being with you. Having such a bright colored girl on his shoulder while roaming the city. Your aura was really just clouds and mist of pink colored sugar. He couldn’t get enough of it.

Especially your style. Oh your style drew you to him like a moth to a flame. Small striped tanks, all in blues, pinks, yellows, greens. Tiny skirts, always letting him get a peek at your ass when you bent over. Paired with platform sandals or just regular wedges, which never seemed to make you as tall as him. You had such a tropical vibe to you, and he LIVED IN IT.

He was either at your house or you were at his. Different vibes but still relaxed so well into it.

And don’t even get me STARTED on the sex… (>///<)!! Intimacy with him was mind BLOWING. He knew his way around a girls body. Infact, he didn’t just know it, he absolutely memorized it. Down to the last nerve ending.

~

It feels like it’s been hours since his fingers have been buried inside of you. When in reality it’s been max 30 minutes.

You squirm on top of him. Face off to the side while his was focused on your wiggly body. Wet squelching echos from the walls, as well as your insistent whimpering and moaning.

Your bikini bottom thrown somewhere on the floor of his bedroom while your bikini top was barely hanging on to your neck.

You and him were SUPPOSED to go out to the beach together, tan a bit, play in the water, stuff like that. But he couldn’t help himself this time when you bent over to pick up a bangle that fell off the floor. He saw the curve of your ass from the darkness of his sunglasses and immediately he got hot and bothered. Throwing you over his shoulder and marching you right to the bedroom.

You didn’t even really know why he was acting the way he was when he threw you on top of him. Shimmying down your bottoms before sticking his fingers in your mouth. Letting the apply pressure on your tongue and letting them get wet with your spit.

When he pulled them out you complained, not a serious one, but you were dead set on going to that beach today. But it fell on deaf ears.

And here you were now. On your lord knows how many ith orgasm. Brain replaced by what felt like a marble. Thoughts just kinda shaking around like pebbles in your head. He held you up close to him, your pussy right above his chest and face buried into a pillow. Mascara and blue eyeshadow staining his cream colored pillows but he’d worry about that later.

His tight grip held one of your ankles up while your leg kicked back and forth against the mattress. Anklet dangling off the free one and making little jingling noises. His middle and ring finger pistoning themselves inside of your dripping cunt. It was intense to say the least.

“Jason!!”

You cried out, a bit of drool dripping down the side of your mouth while you desperately tried to kick your legs but, no luck. One of them yes but it wasn’t enough. He turned his face to see you. Hat thrown next to your bottoms but his stupid sunglasses were still left on his head. Both of your practically nude bodies slick from sweat.

“Hm? Whats up sweet thing?”

He asked oh so innocently, like he wasn’t bullying your pussy with his fingers. And when I mean relentless I mean RELENTLESS. So fast it just looked like his hand was in one place. He watched the fat of your ass ripple when he went inside and out of you. Tapping his palm against it before going right back to fingering you.

Your voice straining and whining, barely able to make out a sentence that wasn’t just nonsense. Even your mind couldn’t think about any words. Just barely trying to count which orgasm this was. You babbled something, something close to that question, and it took him a damn long while to figure it out.

“You’ve cum 2 times already- but, I think my doll needs a 3rd. You agree, don’t you?”

Before you could nod your head yes or shake it no, he slid his fingers out and let them both glide up and down your folds. Feeling around at the seeping wetness that dripped down to your thighs and his upper body. It allowed you to calm yourself for a minute, but not before he pushed them back in. Replacing the ankle in his hand with your waist, holding you straight before going back to his sonic speed fingering.

Your knees pressing down firmly to the bed, adding little dips in the mattress while your legs continued to flail around like kites. Tears stained your cheeks, leaving drips of black down your lower eye. You turned to slightly to face him with a pitiful expression. He couldn’t see much from the position you both were in, but he saw your tears and moved his head forward to kiss them away. Even with his digits still feeling around inside.

Sobbing and whining, but with pleasure behind it, and he knew. He knew it wasn’t a cry of sadness or a cry of pain, but a cry of overstimulation and need. And he was gonna give you as many orgasms as he thought he needed you to have.

“Too much-! Fuzzy—!”

Barely mewling out your words while the hand on your waist went to the curve of your ass, grouping the flesh before slapping it. Causing a jitter and yelp from you. He caught you in your lie and you knew it.

“Nah Angel, ‘s not too much.. Barely enough. Nothin’s ever too much for my girl..”

Cooing to you lovingly while whispering quiet praise. Your cunt clenching around his fingers while your eyes rolled back till they were mostly white. Legs trembling and barely able to keep up. You just kept kicking and squirming around, teeth biting into his pillows and leaving a spit ring against the fabric.

He pulled his fingers out again, rubbing them along your folds and INSTINCTIVELY you reached behind yourself to push them back in. He didn’t even have to ask you to, you didn’t even ask him before you guided them back to your hole. He laughed, once again plugging them with his fatass fingers.

“There we go. See, dumb little angel can be smart.. She just needs some time.”

Chuckling with his whole chest before locking in and fingering you to death again. Your brain was mushy, it felt like if your head tilted to the side your brain would just fall out your ear like noodles. You stuck your tongue out and turned your head away, glad he wasn’t able to see your contorted expression. Just able to hear you crying on his fingers.

“Jaaaasonnnn!!!”

Whining at his teasing comment. Acting like you were annoyed even though you secretly did enjoy it. You liked it more than you’d admit, ya know, being called dumb and enjoying it. He called you dumb once and you huffed, but secretly it kinda awakened something inside of you that you hadn’t even registered.

“Whattttt???”

He mocked, laughing again while still keeping up with his crudely fast fingers. Your breath was hot and heavy, coming out in short intervals with your noises. Arousal dripping down his fingers and coating his palm. He knew you lost your focus a loooonggg time ago with the way you couldn’t even form sentences that weren’t just his name being drawn out. He loved that he could make your mind do that. As selfish as it was, he wanted your mind to always be like that around him. Just empty.

Just gone, all for him. He liked it, didn’t exactly know what to call it, but he liked when you shut off for him. You could relax, and he could take care of you. Like now!! If— you could call it taking care of your body..

He curved his fingers inside, pushing deeper before you lifted your head from his pillow.

“I’m cumming!- Feels weird!-Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseee Jasonnn!!”

You didn’t really know what you were saying please to, you didn’t know anything in this moment to be honest. The wet sounds of his fingers inside, his heavy breathing, your moaning, and the sounds of blankets being thrown off the bed by your kicking legs was enough to fill your mind.

“You can, sweet thing. This the last one so make it realll good for yourself”

A teasing smile appeared on his face as you let the coil in your womb unwrap, and it unwrapped like a rubber band type of speed. You came, and so did a clear liquid too. It came out intense, and didn’t feel too weird, just confused you. But that confusion was overridden by the powerful force of your orgasm.

Your legs spasmed and shook. Folding so your bare, sopping wet pussy was resting against the curve of his abs. He felt the liquid on his body drip down from the sides and onto his sheets. But he didn’t mind. He was proud of his girl for cumming so hard. Doing her very best and all.

“Good girlll.. God damn, 3 in a row.”

He patted your ass, watching the fat jiggle again before you jolted. Still sensitive and still aching. Swollen and puffy pussy grinding against his body to ride it out and get every last bit out.

You then turned your head slightly back to him. To his fingers running lines down your folds, a bit teasing and a bit soothing. His head turned to the side, seeing your fucked out expression he held back a laugh.

You heard his hands leave your pussy, whining about the loss but he just didn’t respond. Instead his hands went down to his waist, unbuckling his belt and zipper.

“Mm.. You look like you can handle one more though, can’t you angel? 4th sound okay?”

Your mind too gone to give him a reaction. Instead just a lazy nod.

“Kay..”

He tapped your ass again.

“We’ll go to the beach after okay? Don’t worry ‘bout that”

What a liar.

The sun was already setting.. (⋋▂⋌)

The beach would have to wait till tomorrow I guess.

E/N: Oh my gah JASON DUVAL PLEASE JUST SLIDE IT IN RAW PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GRAHHHHHHHHHHHH. This was jist a quick goon more than it was something long and thought out. If u couldn’t already tell NOT PROOFREAD and it released super quick. Usually I like to take my time with fics and stuff but I LITERALLY COULDNT HOLD BACK OH MY GAH I HAD TO do it NOWW. But anyway, thank you for reading!! Reblogs, notes, and comments much appreciated!! (*^‿^*)

Tags: @2ftall

[angelmolotovv]

Ok what if I make more angsty autumn art but like

I do it in that “it’s you, despite everything, it’s still you” thing (art trend?) where they’re looking in the mirror with a before and after of 🔥🔥🔪🔪edginess lore and such🔥🔥🔪🔪🔪

[moomeecore]

thinkging about chaos demon god things

[smal5504]

bleeesuashuhfg im still not over it can you tell

yapping down beloe :>

as a wise kikuo once said "search!!! search!!! where are you enemies!!! search!!! search!!!" (in reference to la la la rasen no naka RHSFJSKGDHCFJ)

la la laaaaa so first of all many elements of this are based off of my cool cool bfdia pin imaginings animated series the link takes you to the tumblr upload of part 5 to the series!!! because it best pertains to this episode and drawing YAY YAY YAY i dont know what else to yap im jus really really REALLY proud of this ♡♡♡ /vvvvvpos /silly red pushpin attempts to counter debiliating anxiety and self hatred by putting on a whole show affirming that shes utterly unlovable, lives to regret it

also pleek obserb my bin beefydie-yay hyperanalysis video presentation it would be quites the appreciating

okay goobeye eid mubarak

[thatneoncrisis]

re whitewashing in tlt spaces. i feel like id be way more chill with seeing lighter toned harrow, bc at the end of the day she IS lightskinned you can just look at the cover of nona and that whole "skin the color egg carton" this is like. fanciful and kind of strange if your mind goes to the white or grey ones but like

absolutely within the range of human skin tones. its tan but its not like a dark chocolate brown. gives you enough to work with. but on top of just making harrow incredibly pale a lot of the time she is just. drawn like a white girl. just zero indication that she isnt entirely pakeha let alone maori if you didnt already have that info in your back pocket.

and so much shit contributes to this its tazs descriptions in the book just focusing on how pointy and scrawny she is, its fanartists not really getting the nuances of how to draw poc outside of "white person" and "black person", its the fact that irl maori obviously have a vast array of different ways they can look and some of them can be white passing and that doesnt make them less maori, its that fact coming into conflict where in a book if you have a main character you say is maori but is lightskinned, white passing and has zero connection to maori culture, language, and wasnt even born on earth and its been 10000 years since that particular ethnic group has even existed. what does that mean. how would the text change if she was just pakeha

[catgirlkirigiri]

Iris my love... gotta have the girly secondary fursona. For gender time. Actually think she's being demoted to fursona number 3 but idk we'll see about the pecking order when refs are all done. She was waaay overdue for a redesign oh shit I just realized I didn't put a color palette on here. Oh well ig too late for that now I am not rearranging that bg

[crabsnpersimmons]

"Hellooooo, sailors! You've travelled long and hard, why not kick your feet up and rest with me? I'll sing us a little song."

meet Echo! my new Eclipse OC! she used to be a performer on a luxury cruise ship (and this was one of her outfits!) but now she works as the front desk/security at an office building. a free-spirited bot with the confidence to boot, she lives life on her own terms—to the fullest.

some other facts about her:

she stands at 8'5" (same height as Clip! i realize this is my default Eclipse height haha)

her voice claim: HWASA Don't: "I don't care who you are, don't make me cry. I don't care who you are. I don't care who you are, don't make me lie."

however, there are moments when she sings that a second voice seeps in to harmonize: Whee In Watercolour: "I'm gonna raise me up, I want more colours for me. Now, just pick anything, ah!"

her "hair" is made up of wires that she plugs into the back of her faceplate! she changes them up often.

she hates it when people touch her hair, partly because they get tangled and partly from a bad past experience

she loves eating and can handle a lot of spice

she dates around, she finds humans entertaining, especially when they can pay for her meal

also tagging @starriegalaxy because she wanted to be tagged and i took that as an invitation to share the Echo brainrot with her right before her meeting today (wishing you the best, jestie!)

[britneyshakespeare]

My toxic trait is that I like how my incomplete drawings look better than the finished things

[sysig]

Nice healthy obsession you got there (Patreon)

[valeriehalla]

I am so utterly fascinated by “Saki”, the 18-year-running mahjong manga in which you, the reader, become gradually, frog-boilingly aware (over the course of nearly two decades’ worth of mahjong tournaments) that none of these girls are wearing underwear and most of their boobs are slowly expanding.

I need you to understand that I have, like, an anthropological level fascination with this comic. From the perspective of someone who is also a comic artist and writer, two things delight me about it:

the fact that I understand completely how an artist gets from “the fans can have a little hint of skirted asscheek” to “the pussy is completely out on center page” over the course of 18 years; and

the way in which the pussy being out is treated by the characters and diegesis as being utterly unremarkable.

Okay. Point 1. The frog-boiling.

Let me put this in perspective for you. There was already a meme about how the characters in “Saki” don’t wear underwear when I was in middle school. I am thirty now. Okay? And it’s still going.

In the time since, this has stopped being a joke. It is now indisputable canon. This is not because anyone outright says it at any point. It’s because the underwear ran out of places to hide. I’m obsessed with this thought: somewhere in the over 20 volumes of “Saki”, there is a panel in which underwear was objectively deconfirmed. And it would be so hard to figure out where that panel actually is. Maybe the artist didn’t even realize it when she drew it! The frog? Boiling!!

And of course there is also the breast expansion. I don’t know how to put a spin on this. They are just expanding. Like, this happens a lot with artists: you define a character as being, in your mind, “the one with the big boobs”, and over the years you emphasize that trait further and further so that the signal doesn’t get lost in the noise. It’s just that normally—in like a wildly popular manga series about mahjong published by literally Square Enix, for example—normally there would be a point at which the boobs stopped getting bigger. Like, an editor would step in or something. Or you would get to the point where you cannot draw the character in the same panel as her mahjong tiles without her breasts spilling over the tiles, and you’d go, “Well, this is now untenable.”

That did not happen. There is no ceiling. The frog is soup.

Point 2. The complete and utter mundanity of all of this.

It’s like this, okay: there’s no shortage of trashy ecchi manga out there. There’s a million other comics doing wildly bawdier things with wildly more improbable bishoujos.

The vibe with “Saki” is different.

It’s hard to explain this, but it feels like the world of the comic is fundamentally uninterested in the fanservice happening on the page. I cannot describe it as “leering”, because I cannot conceive of a person in the story from whose point of view one would leer. I think the artist is probably into it—I can’t imagine anyone is making her do this—but “Saki” the comic has no opinion on the matter.

There are essentially no male characters in “Saki”. Like, there was one guy? Kind of? At the very beginning? But he is gone now. They put him back in the toybox. He does not exist. It appears to be some level of canonical that in the world of “Saki”, almost all humans are women. Those women are sometimes romantically into each other. According to comments the artist has made on Twitter (which I cannot source), they have lesbian baby technology, so it’s no problem. It’s so much not a problem that the story is about mahjong, instead of any of that.

So, like, the fiction here appears to be this: this is the, like, meta-narrative of the fanservice of “Saki”, right: it’s just normal that they don’t wear underwear and their boobs are arbitrarily big. It’s been normal. It was normal before the story of the manga began. It’s just how things are. Nobody bats an eye about it, and if they do, it’s in sort of a lesbian kind of way so like what’s the problem, we love lesbians here. This is literally normal for girls.

The fanservice simply diffuses into this all-encompassing aura of disembodied, ambient sluttiness. The framing of the panels demands you acknowledge it, and the story demands you already be over it, because it’s mahjong time now, and we’re playing mahjong.

Do you get??? why I’m so fascinated??? Are you not a little enraptured???

Anyway, I have no idea how to end this weird post. I guess the conclusion is that women stay winning????

[mariasont]

Early seasons Spencer’s gf joining the team and quickly realizing just how used to Spencer she is bc the rest of the team’s reactions to him are so different from hers

Cinnamon Sticks - S.R

a/n: obsessed with the idea of baby spencie having a gf who just gets him while he's still an awkward, nerdy little genius! thanks for requesting bestie so sorry it took so long i am the worst LOL

masterlist

pairings: early!seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, secret relationship, relationship being exposed bc these two are just so in love

wc: 1.7k

Garcia burst into the bullpen like some sort of whirlwind that was practically painted in neon, her scarf fluttering behind her almost like a cape. She juggled a precariously full cup of coffee, while her phone teetered between ear and shoulder as if testing the limits of human dexterity.

"I swear to all that is holy, if my life doesn't slow down in the next five minutes —"

The sentence derailed as she misjudged her pace, the coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the cup. She stopped abruptly, but not quick enough to stop the scalding liquid from spilling over and searing her fingers.

"Oh, fantastic! Just what I needed!" she huffed, waving her hand like it might stop the sting.

She threw herself into the closest chair with a dejected sigh, slumping back and fixing the coffee cup with a murderous glare, like this was just another tally in a long line of grievances.

Your eyes darted up from your work, only for a moment, enough to confirm what you already knew. You hadn't been working here long, but it was long enough to recognize the phenomenon that was Garcia: a blur of movement and words, mid-rant before anyone had the chance to catch up. It was like clockwork really.

You risked a glance across the desk at Spencer, who was so absorbed in his notebook it was a wonder he even remembered to breathe. If Garcia's antics registered as white noise to anyone, it was him. But then, almost like he had a radar for being watched, he looked up, catching your gaze.

His eyebrows lifted into a subtle what can you do? expression, and you couldn't help but smile back.

That was the thing about Spencer. He had this uncanny knack for knowing exactly what you were thinking, almost as if he had a cheat sheet for your brain. And maybe he did, like his brain worked three times faster than everyone else's in the room (which, let's face it, it definitely did). But instead of that being intimidating, it was oddly reassuring.

"At this rate, I'm one bad email away from alphabetizing my entire pantry for stress relief."

Spencer's notebook hit the desk, and there it was, the shift you loved to look for. His shoulders drew back, face lighting up, the kind of thing that signaled his mini-lecture was incoming.

"Organizing your pantry is actually a practical stress management technique. By categorizing items, you create a structured environment that reduces decision fatigue. Its why people feel calmer in tidy spaces, it's psychological."

Morgan held up a hand. "Psychological, huh? Sounds like you’re just trying to justify your weird love affair with labels, pretty boy.”

“Don’t forget,” you added absently, flipping a page in your report, “it also saves time when you’re cooking. I think you called it practical efficiency."

The words slipped out without much thought, but as soon as they did, the bullpen stilled. You glanced up, heart sinking as you saw every face turned in your direction.

Morgan’s grin was the first thing you notice, wide and knowing, stretching across his face. He tilted his head, eyes bouncing between you and Spencer like he was putting pieces together in real time.

“Wait a minute,” he said, sitting forward with a gleam in his eye. “Did you just quote him? Like, word for word?”

Your cheeks heated instantly. “What? No. I mean — maybe. I don’t know.”

“Pretty sure you did,” Morgan shot back, smirking. “Man, what else has he been teaching you? You got the periodic table memorized too?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, please. If you’ve been around Spencer long enough, you’re bound to pick up a few things. He’s like a walking encyclopedia.”

“Well,” Spencer said, his head tilting slightly as he spoke, “your cinnamon sticks always end up at the back of your pantry. That’s why I figured you might appreciate the idea of organizing by use frequency. Like I said, practical efficiency.”

The moment the words left his mouth, you knew he’d made a tactical error.

Garcia gasped, her eyes lighting up like she’d just been handed the juiciest piece of gossip of her life. 

“Oh. My. God. Spencer Reid, how exactly do you know what the back of her pantry looks like?”

You froze, rooted to the spot as the realization hit you like a cartoon anvil. 

This was bad.

Spencer’s expression mirrored yours for half a second, bug-eyed panic, but he quickly scrambled for an answer. 

“It’s, um… a logical assumption,” he stammered, his fingers toying with the pen in his hand, a nervous tell he couldn’t quite suppress. “Spices like cinnamon sticks always seem to migrate to the back of the pantry unless there’s an intentional system in place.”

Morgan let out a long, low whistle, rocking back in his chair with enough force to make it creak.

“Nice save. But I don’t think Garcia’s buying it.”

Garcia tapped her chin, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “Oh, no, no, no. This is too good. I mean, logical assumption  my fabulous behind! Cinnamon sticks in the back of her pantry? Really? What’s next? A detailed analysis of how she stacks her cereal boxes?”

You laughed, though it sounded more like a bark than anything natural. “You’re all reading way too much into this. Spencer just knows weirdly specific things about, well, everything. That’s kind of his thing, remember?”

“Mmhmm,” Garcia hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Alright, genius, I’ll let it slide this time. But I’m watching you.”

“Please don’t,” Spencer muttered under his breath, earning a round of laughter from the team.

Garcia spent a solid ten minutes in full interrogation mode after that, her eyes narrowing with each and every pointed question she lobbed your way. Morgan, of course, was no help. He leaned back, grinning like a kid with a front-row seat to the circus, his smirk practically screaming that he knew they were this close to striking a nerve.

Spencer and you had been so careful. You'd been dating long before you joined the BAU, but the moment Hotch had called to offer you the position, you both knew you'd have to keep things under wraps. Dating a coworker was one thing; dating Spencer Reid, a genius with an accidentally too-honest mouth, was an entirely different challenge.

You hadn't expected it to be this hard, though. Keeping the secret wasn't the worst part, it was pretending he wasn't the center of your universe every time you walked into the room. It was keeping your hands to yourself when all you wanted to do was smooth out the messy strands of hair that always fell into his eyes. It was biting your tongue when someone interrupted his long-winded tangents because the truth was, you loved hearing him talk.

The hours stretched on, and the bullpen slowly thinned out. Garcia was the first to leave, blowing a kiss to the room. Morgan left soon after, pausing to flash you one last grin before disappearing. Even Prentiss packed up for the night, muttering something about needed an extra shot of espresso tomorrow morning.

"You handled that well."

You looked up from your report to find Spencer by your desk, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other skimming lightly along the edge of the divider. His expression was surprisingly soft, almost bashful, as though he had been waiting to get you alone.

"Handled that well?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You were the one who almost blew it, Spencer. Cinnamon sticks? Really?"

He smiled, lips twitching upward as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Okay, I'll admit that wasn't my most subtle moment. But in my defense, they do end up at the back of most pantries."

You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head as you leaned back in your chair. 

"We're lucky Garcia got distracted. If she'd pushed any harder..." Your voice drifted into a soft sigh. "That could've been bad."

"That was a close one."

The quiet that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt a little more substantial, if that was the word, filled with that miniscule ache that always bloomed in your chest when he was near. 

Spencer stepped closer, his hand brushing against the edge of your desk. His body angled toward you, like even when you weren’t touching, he couldn’t help but gravitate toward you.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I don’t think she actually suspects anything. But we should probably be more careful.”

"Probably," you replied, drawing out the word in a teasing, sing-song tone. “Unless you’d rather keep showing off how ridiculously well you know me.”

His cheeks flushed a soft pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, that shy, boyish smile, the one that always made you a little breathless, spread across his lips.

"That's going to be hard," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I noticed a lot about you."

You could feel the flush creeping up to your neck, and you mentally cursed him for how easily he was able to do this to you.

"You're lucky I like you."

His smile widened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners in that way they only came out at specific moments. Like when he successfully performed a card trick for the team or when he stumbled across an original copy of a book at a library sale. 

The same one you'd seen when he talked about his mom on her good days, or when you asked him on a date. 

You leaned forward. "And since I like you, any chance you'd want to kiss me right now?"

"How could I not, with you looking at me like that?"

The angle was clumsy, your chair too low, his frame leaning awkwardly over, but all of that melted away the second his hands found your face. His thumbs brushed soft circles against the place where your cheek met your jaw.

His lips were soft against yours at first, testing, before growing firmer, more sure. The kind of confidence that came with a hundred familiar kisses before. 

Time seemed to slow, or at least for you it did, the rest of the world nonexistent.

The sound of a throat clearing broke the spell, and you jerked back from Spencer, your chair wobbling slightly as you turned toward the sound. You immediately regretted it — your lips felt swollen, your face hot, and there was Prentiss, leaning against the doorframe.

"We were... uh, testing something," you blurted, avidly avoiding eye contact. "You know, like... oxygen exchange! For scientific purposes."

Spencer blinked, then mumbled, "Oxygen exchange? That's the best you got?"

"Shut it," you hissed through gritted teeth, not daring to look at him.

Prentiss arched a brow. "Relax, lovebirds. If this is your idea of scientific research, I'll make sure Garcia doesn't find out. You're welcome."

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips @m-indkiller @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @reiderrambles @averyhotchner @hbwrelic @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @doigettokeepyou @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @c-losur3 @theylovemelody @alahnizamolo @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @spiderladyleah @estragos @khxna @spencerssoup @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72 @piinksdoll @reidfile @sugarbutterbailey @aecd27 @persephonestears @moonyxstars @xxmooxmooxx @spookyysinsanity @proxxyshouse @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @jungchloee @she-wont-miss @duchesz @i2rapunzel @historicallyqueer

join my taglist here!

[poguelandiarafe]

showered in secrets | drew starkey

pairings - drew starkey x secretgf!reader

warnings - smut, unprotected sex (p in v)

summary - you and drew are in a secret relationship. or at least it’s a secret until drew forgets it is and follows you into the shower, prompting madelyn to interrogate you as to what he was doing.

masterlist

--------

the house is buzzing with excitement, the kind that only comes from the anticipation of a night out with your closest friends. you, along with drew, madison, jonathan and chase have decided to get ready at madelyn's house and have some drinks there before going out.

you're always at her house due to living close by and she always jokes about how you may as well move in from how often you're there, even to the point of having your own drawer full of clothes, shower stuff and a spare toothbrush. it's perfect for an impromptu sleepover.

"mads, can i use your shower please?" you ask, already going to grab your stuff.

"course, you know where it is." she replies, flashing you a smile.

you grab your stuff and a fresh towel and disappear into the bathroom. the sound of the shower running fills the bathroom as you step in, taking a minute to relax in the hot water. you're wrapped in your thoughts, unaware of drew letting himself in and calling out madelyn's name when he's met with a seemingly empty apartment.

----

meanwhile, drew is looking for you, a frown on his face when he sees you're not in the kitchen or living room. his frown deepens when he sees you're also not in madelyn's room while she's doing her hair.

"hey, is y/n here yet? thought she'd have been the first one here. not me." he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

"she was actually," madelyn laughs, curling the last piece of hair, "she's just in the shower."

"oh, thanks." drew smiles, already making a beeline for the bathroom before he has a chance to realise what he's doing.

"drew?" she says, but he's already gone, "she's showering!"

his brows furrow in confusion, wondering why that was an issue, forgetting your relationship was a secret, "yeah, i know!"

stepping into the bathroom, the steam surrounds him and he takes a few seconds to stare at you, not having noticed he's in there.

"you should lock the door you know." he smirks, leaning against the door.

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you spin around, eyes widening in realisation that he might've just blown your relationship.

"what are you doing in here?" you hiss.

his smirk falters once the realisation seems to register and you watch as his eye widen, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out.

"oh my god, drew." you groan, a sigh leaving your lips.

"shit." he chuckles awkwardly, "i asked madelyn where you were and she told me you were showering and well, i've never really not thought about joining you in the shower and i didn't realise and i'm so sorry i-"

"come here, stop rambling." you cut him off, reaching a hand out with a soft smile on your face.

stepping towards you, he grabs your hand and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. your heart melts at the way he's looking at you and you can't help but lean forward and cup his jaw to bring him into a soft kiss.

"are you mad at me?" drew asks.

"no, but you have to sometimes think before following me into the shower."

his smirk returns and there's a playful glint in his eye, "i do think about it. that's why i always end up in the shower with you."

you roll your eyes but don't stop the giggle escaping your lips, "you're impossible."

drew hums in response before letting go of your hand and pulling his shirt over his head wanting to join you. you go to tell him it's a bad idea but he's already kicking away his trousers and boxers and stepping in, his tall frame towering over you.

"you know, i don't think mads would appreciate if we fucked in her shower." you mumble, but a smile tugs at your lips regardless, arms wrapping around his neck.

"hey, i said nothing about fucking," he leans closer, arms sliding around your waist, and whispers, "but i reckon we have at least a bit of time before she gets too suspicious, don't you?"

you scoff, shaking your head from his boldness, "you're a bad influence, drew."

"yet you still love me." he mumbles, starting to kiss your shoulder, trailing up to your neck.

"course i do," you reply with a genuine smile, "always going to."

drew smiles against your skin and playfully bites at your neck, teasing you. you're so close to giving in, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin and large hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. glancing at the door, you bite your lip, contemplating, knowing your friends might be just down the hall by now.

"fuck it."

pulling his face from your neck, you stand on your tiptoes and capture his lips in a heavy kiss. he reacts instantly, walking you a few steps backward until your back is pressed against the cool tiled wall. the kiss is intense, messy, desperate, making you forget all about the fact your friends are probably wondering where you two are.

he pulls back, breathless, "gotta be quick."

rolling your eyes, you tease, "wow, romantic."

"shut up." he murmurs, but there's no malice in his words, "don't have time for foreplay baby, you gonna be okay?"

"mhmm, i'll be fine."

drew's arms encircle your waist again and lift you up, letting your legs wrap around him. your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck and you look down in between your bodies, watching as he strokes himself a few times.

"ready?" he asks, noticing the way your breath hitches when he positions himself at your entrance.

"yeah."

he pushes forward, both of you letting out a low groan at the feeling. the stretch is teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, your jaw dropping in a silent moan. slowly, he continues to fill you until he's bottomed out, patiently waiting for you to tell him to move.

"shit," he moans when your pussy clenches around his length, "feel so good baby, so tight."

"move." you breathe out, head lolling forward to rest on his shoulder.

the sound of skin slapping soon fills the small bathroom and you can't help but bite down on drew's shoulder to silence the moans threatening to escape.

"look at me," he demands, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, "you okay?"

"harder," you beg, pulling slightly at his hair, "please."

immediately, he complies, thrusting deeper and harder than before. you don't even realise how loud you're being until drew's lips are back on yours in an attempt to silence you.

you throw your head back when a particularly harsh thrust hits your g-spot perfectly and drew takes the opportunity to slide a hand down to rub circles on your clit.

"c-close." you whine, squirming in his arms due to your high quickly approaching.

as much as he loves to hear every moan and noise he can draw out of you, there's not a chance your relationship has the chance to stay a secret if he doesn't cover your mouth when you cum. so, he tells you to take over rubbing your clit and his hand covers your mouth instead, knowing any second now your high would hit you.

"cum for me y/n." he encourages, "come on pretty girl."

seconds later, your back is arching off the wall into his chest as your orgasm rips through you. his hips stutter, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him triggering his own orgasm.

"fuck, fuck, fuck." drew moans, his cum shooting into you.

his hand drops from your mouth, uncovering your giddy smile. you don't know how he still has the strength to hold you up, so you press a quick kiss to his lips and let him set you down, though your legs still feel like jelly.

"i love you." he mumbles, hands squeezing your hips as if emphasising his point.

"i love you too. think anyone heard us?" you question, grabbing your shampoo bottle, since you do still need to properly shower.

"probably."

----

ten minutes later, you're standing in front of the mirror staring at a faint hickey that's starting to form on your neck. clearly, your 'no visible marks' rule has gone out the window. you'd kicked drew out before getting on with washing your hair, not needing any more distractions. but now you wished you hadn't purely to get the chance to scold him for leaving a mark.

a voice brings you back to reality, "y/n? you out the shower? i need to pee."

it's madelyn.

"uh, yeah hold on!" you call back, readjusting your top and sorting out your hair, attempting to cover the mark.

when you open the door, she stands there, arms crossed. she's looking over you as if she knows something but can't quite figure out what.

then she spots it. what you thought was a faint mark turns out to be getting darker the more time passes. she decides not to bring it up though, wanting to see what you'll admit to her first.

"thought you needed to pee?"

"not anymore," madelyn replied, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her, "took you ages in the shower, you shaving your legs or something?"

you narrow your eyes at her, trying to figure out if she's being genuine or if she knows something. normally, she's easy to read, but now you don't know.

"just wanted to relax before the chaos hits soon." you gulp when she asks the next question.

"any idea why drew's hair was dry when he got here and it's now wet? or why he seemed to disappear for twenty minutes?"

your stomach flips and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. pathetic excuses fill your mind, excuses you know she'll never buy in a million years and you don't know what to say.

"what? how would i know? why're you asking me?" you laugh dryly.

"cause i know he had the whole 'greasy bangs' phase but i know drew enough to know he'd never be seen in public wearing this much hair gel and i don't have some luxurious pool he could've been using while i was finishing my hair."

"maybe he just... i don't know, splashed some water on his face or something?" you stammer, avoiding her gaze.

"okay, now i know you're lying. spill, i know something's going on with you two." madelyn smirks.

you sigh in defeat, "fine, but you can not say a word to anyone. i mean it."

her eyes light up and she nods quickly, "i promise. not a word. please tell me!"

you look between the door and her for a few seconds, thinking over the pros and cons, but she's your best friend. you have to tell her.

"i-uh, okay. me and drew are together. and not in a 'friends with benefits' kind of way. like, we're dating, have been for about four months," madelyn's jaw dropped, her hand covering her mouth, "but it's a secret so please don't mention it to anyone later. you're the only one that knows."

"oh my god, i knew it. you're so cute together." she squeals, hugging you.

"keep your voice down!" you whisper-shout but return her hug nonetheless.

"i want details later." she pleads.

"yes boss."

"also, i know you guys totally just had sex in the shower. i don't care, but if you don't want anyone to find out, cover the hickey. the hickey makes it so obvious." she winks at you before leaving the bathroom.

yeah, you definitely need to cover that.

[administer-distractions]

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