#did u know that female cuttlefish can indicate willing/readiness to mate by turning a color called “precopulatory grey”

[abyssalcunters]

humbly requesting some andreana in heat while the other hunters are away akfjsjdjsh 👉👈

OOOOOOOH YOU ARE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE GIRL

-

As tended to happen to her, it hit Andreana at the most inconvenient possible time. 

She felt it as she was finishing lunch, a molten heat dripping down her spine, her tentacles curling tight against her back of their own accord, dropping their normal subtle striping for a deep, uniform grey.

She felt it ripple over her skin, hot pins and needles as chromatophores in her skin shifted, the same glistening grey shimmering along her thighs, up her chest, only with a fierce exertion of her will preventing it from spreading down her arms or up her neck, sweat beading at her temple with the effort. 

“Andi? Are you okay?” 

Andreana twitched, coming back to herself, tentacles squeezing tighter unconsciously as her eyes flicked up to see the rest of her table looking at her with a mix of curiosity and concern. The exception was Kirara, who glanced at her from where she was tucked into Utage’s side with a sympathetic wince as Andreana tugged her mask back up over her mouth, making hasty excuses before darting out of the cafeteria.

I guess there must be a God, Andreana thought as she staggered through her door, her two denticulated tentacles crawling up her shirt of their own accord, lacing rings beading with blood over her chest as they tugged, harsh, not harsh enough, at her breasts, because he Fucking hates me.

She closed her eyes, sinking back against the door, two (non-toothed, thankfully) arms deft with dedicated practice slipping her belt loose and allowing her pants to drop free around her knees. 

It hit her in full force as she dragged one arm through her arousal-damp bush, knees buckling with the wave of desperation sweeping through her at the merest hint of touch, of satisfaction.

It wasn’t close to enough, though.

Andreana knew it wasn’t even as she worked the first arm into her, a keening sob tearing from her throat at the sensation of being filled, at nearing some scrap of relief before the rising tide of her heat yanked it away from her again. 

Why did it have to be now? Her Hunters, her podmates (as Skadi called them) out of reach, the three of them in Iberia for the next day or two. She clenched around herself at the thought, another sob ripping through her at the painful tug in her chest that those she trusted enough to place herself in their hands weren’t here to cradle her gently. 

She screwed her eyes shut as she stretched her other arm to slip between her ass cheeks, no hesitation or gentle massaging or warm-up before slamming it home. She could almost hear Shark’s tinkling laugh at her breathless gasp, feel the hand at her throat pulling her back onto her strap, if she allowed herself a suspension of disbelief she could almost rationalize the bite of her serrated suckers as the loving cut of Laurentina’s teeth. 

She twisted the arm in her cunt, letting out a gut-punched half sob as she doubled it over itself, a pale imitation of how Skadi felt inside her; not hot enough, not heavy enough, not with the same presence of power and protective love she always always felt from Skadi, no matter how roughly her Orca was treating her. 

Desperation welled in her as she peaked and plateaued, that knife-edge of pleasure unattainable on her own, unable to tip herself past her own breaking point no matter how raw she fucked herself. 

Then the image of Gladiia swam through her hazy mind, her Captain’s gloved, deft fingers finding her aching, throbbing clit, whispering encouragements in one of her rare moments of tenderness, and as Andreana mirrored with her own hand her Captain’s movements she screamed, and cried, and shattered. 

She held herself, collapsed against the door, too-large shirt Skadi had left on some past meeting gripped white-knuckled, and cried for a long time. 

Some time later, the Captain of the Abyssal Hunters would receive a message on a communications line that four people in the world had access to. Fifteen minutes later, a Rhodes Island tiltrotor was dispatched to recover three of the deadliest, most efficient fighters in the known world, who had encountered an “unavoidable setback” and needed to be brought back to the landship immediately. 

Dr. Kal’tsit scheduled their debrief for several days later, citing “necessary medical leave”.

-

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ! i love her