#i want to out that lounge in the ocean and float away

[kandidandi]

Kandi core

gasp! yes yes yes omg basya this is amazing!!! would you believe me if i said i actually have those EXACT rollerskates irl?

[milkywaydrabbles]

I am so glad you have anons turned on... ahem. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, though!

Kinktober 29 + Alucard! (Castlevania)

A/N: I don't know what you did to me but I've been possessed once again for this ask holy shit. Tentacle anon lemme kiss u on the mouth ;; hope you enjoy MWUAH (also a firm believer he'll always be a lover boy no matter what) AU TIME

Tentacles x Alucard

“Adrian! I can’t believe you’re the little thief!” You gasped, scandalized that your sea-friend would be the one who’s been stealing all the balls that kept magically ‘floating away’ in the ocean. He shrugged with a sly grin, his tentacles sprawled around him keeping him afloat. You’d met the mystical half sea creature months ago by this point, you’d been paddling out to sea for fun, realizing that you’d gotten entirely too far from shore. Before you were able to panic, you saw the tiniest little cove a bit farther out, deciding to rest inside of it before making a plan to go back to shore, back home. Instead what you got was the scare of your life, a tentacle gripping at your ankle and with a shriek you fell back into the side. The playful little fiend crept out with wide eyes, not expecting to ever have a human here in his home. You mirrored the look, thinking you’d finally gone insane seeing something with the top half of a man and bottom half of an...octopus? Lots of screaming, and explaining later, your fears were quelled, and after hours of talking, you felt you made a friend.

And you did! Visiting him as often as you could out here, bringing him food that you’ve made from your home, and him giving you small trinkets he’s found lost at sea. (Most recently he’d given you a pearl necklace he said he made himself. You would have seen the scarlet bloom across his neck and chest, should you not turn away trying to calm your own beating heart.) You learned he’s the rumored ‘Alucard’, the sea monster that eats the sailors off at sea. (‘Why the fuck would I do that?” he reasoned) You also learned there’s more of his kind, he has friends he sees every so often, even has loving parents deeper in the ocean bed. But he likes to spend alone time here, closer to humans. He likes listening to the different sounds above the water. Sometimes you’d even see him out in the ocean, closer to the shores if there wasn’t anyone around. You started going to the shores late in the night, if only to see him twice a day. (You think he stays coming back to the cove because of you, but neither of you will speak it out loud.)

“I’m not stealing them. They really do get lost out here! What am I supposed to do, bring them back? Someone’s going to see me.” He couldn’t help but grin like the cheshire cat, using a tentacle to grab at one of the ‘lost’ beach balls, bouncing it over to you and you rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re terrible” Of course you’d never want him to actually go back and give them back--someone finding out about his existence could have very well been the end of his life, him trusting you enough to let you go was a huge feat for the merman. “I actually have something else for you.” 

“Ooh, another beach ball?”

“Quiet you, come here.”

You huffed, crawling over to where he lounged and sitting in front of him, waiting. For the first time since the pearl necklace, you saw Alucard looking nervous. You gave him time, raising a brow and cocking your head urging him to continue. From behind his back, he pulled out a clamshell, “I promise the clam wasn’t alive when I found it.” He mumbled, pushing it towards you. You blinked, confused. This wasn’t the first shell he’s given you, but it was quite...lackluster, in comparison to the rest he’d given you. Plus, he looked entirely too nervous for a shell! “Thank you, Alucard.” You teased, laughing when you heard him groan. “Hush, ridiculous fucking name...the shell isn’t your gift.” He paused. “Open it.” the top flipped up and you nearly dropped it out of pure shock. What lay inside was the most gorgeous ring you’d ever seen. A beautiful moss agate stone set in the middle, smaller pieces of diamonds dotted around the band. It was an intricate piece, one that you’d be devastated to lose if you were the original owner of this ring. “Adrian, I...what...oh my god” You couldn’t even form sentences, in too much shock a ring like this existed floating in the ocean. You looked at him, mouth agape. “How did you find this? Where did you find this? It’s in perfect condition!” you were scared to even touch the thing.

He stayed quiet for a moment, shuffling over to you. “I didn’t find it.” He admitted. “I ah...I had it made.” 

....

What?

“You said your favorite color was green. And you love the forest. So I thought this made the most sense for you. I know you’d rather live in the woods, but the ocean is beautiful too. I think you’d really like it here.” His voice was barely above a whisper, shaky hand bringing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Adrian, I don’t understand...”

You did. You just couldn’t believe it until he said it out loud. It all felt like a dream.

“I love you.”

Your breath hitched.

“And I would like to marry you. And have you move with me, into the ocean. With the rest of my kind.”

Your head was spinning, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Adrian panicked, hands frantically wiping away at your tears, unknowing that they were happy tears. “Please, please don’t cry. We don’t have to talk about this now, or at all, if you’re not comfortable it’s okay--” You cut him off with a kiss, your first shared kiss, hands smoothing his beautiful blonde locks. “Adrian, I love you.” Your admission knocked the wind out his lungs, head reeling that someone like him could have someone like you fall in love with him. “But how can this work? I mean, really, I’m not like you, I don’t...” He hushed you, placing another chaste kiss on your lips. “There’s more about my world that you don’t know, but I promise we can get you there. It’ll be our world soon, angel” 

You had no idea what he meant, or how it’d work, but in the meantime, you carefully took the ring out of the shell and gingerly placed it on your ring finger on your left hand. Your vision tunneled on the ring, holding your hand up to see it glimmering in the sunlight that shone through the cove. “It’s gorgeous, Adrian...” You could cry right now, and almost started to too if you didn’t try as hard as you were from keeping it together. “Be with me, please..” He connected his lips to you again, tentacles wrapping themselves around your middle as your hands carded through his hair. Adrian bit at your lower lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth when you permitted and deepening the kiss. What was once slow and sweet became a flurry of moans, tongue and teeth, anticipation and lust. He kissed and nipped at your jawline, your throat, your shoulders. “Will you let me touch you?” Adrian whispered, hands hovering over your body. You nodded, lifting your bathing top  off your body and pushing his hands onto your chest. His breathing stuttered, kneading and pinching at your body. “So beautiful, angel.” He murmured, dipping a tentacle at the hem of your bottoms, another joining by the edge of your pussy. You gasped, feeling yourself clench around nothing.  

You’d never thought yourself to be prude you just...never thought about being fucked by tentacles. Or a merman. But, fuck, if you weren’t turned on thinking about Adrian doing what he wanted with you before whisking you away to the deepest parts of the ocean. You pressed yourself closer to him, letting the tentacles pull away your bottoms. A hand came down to tease at your entrance, feeling the slick dripping on his fingers. “So wet..all for me?” He cooed, smiling when he felt you nodding against the crook of his neck. He wouldn’t tease you much, not this time--feeling much too impatient. His fingers slid into your pretty cunt with ease, so turned on you could have been ready for him right then and there. “Fuck, look at you.” He murmured, scissoring his fingers inside of you. He knows this wouldn’t be your first sexual encounter. He’s (unfortunately) heard of previous partners of your life, but none of them had the physiology that he had, he needed to prep you. “Darling, I need you to trust me, okay?” You furrowed your brows, humping at his fingers barely able to pay attention to what he was saying. “‘Kay, anything Adrian.” you murmured, before feeling the fingers replaced with something else. Something long, a bit slimy, definitely thicker. You cried out, hearing you gush and squelch around the intrusion. “Adrian!” You gasped, looking down at the juncture of your hips and seeing his tentacle pumping deep into your sloppy pussy. 

You couldn’t believe how hot and bothered you were, seeing him fucking you with the intrusive appendage. Your hips rolled towards him, the tentacle slowly pumping in and out of you. It poked and prodded at your walls, the suctions ribbing at your hole and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your mouth fell open with a moan, head leaning back. “Gotta loosen you up like this, sweetheart, gotta get you ready..” You heard the merman speak, but the ringing in your ear didn’t help. His lips wrapped around a nipple, hand playing with the other. Simultaneously more of his tentacles wrapped themselves around your legs and arms, rubbing and squeezing at your appendages as the one still in your pussy pushed further in, kissing what felt like the entrance to your womb. You shrieked, clenching down hard on the tentacle with the immense amount of pleasure and  hint of pain you were feeling. “Fuckfuckfuck, Adrian,” You mumbled, hands holding onto his shoulders, “feels good in my pussy, a-aah fuck!” You cried, humping at the appendage. He kept his mouth busy with your chest, a tentacle letting go on an arm to kiss your clit with the small suction on the tip, rubbing at the nub and leaving it slimy. He’d suction to it and let go, imitating sucking on the quickly swelling bundle of nerves. “Want you like this forever, darling girl” he mused,  laving a tongue over your skin and leaving bites and love marks around your tits. His hands gripped at your hips, lips pressing against yours with a new fire lit. The tentacles working on your cunt were driving you to your climax, tentacle wrapped around your thigh pushing your leg farther apart. Alucard looked down at his added appendage fucking into you, and how juicy and wet you were. It was intoxicating, and he realized quickly he could have you like this more than he’d like to admit.

“Wanna feel you on me, darling.” He cooed, pushing the tentacle deeper in you and curling, acting almost like a large tongue licking inside your sloppy little cunt, smile curling on his face when he heard the squeal he was looking for, feeling you gush around him. The suction cups held the stickiness of your pussy, Alucard swiping at a few to taste your cum on his tongue. He moaned lowly, nearly angry at himself for not having your first orgasm be on his tongue. But there’d be so many after this time anyways, he didn’t have to worry, you’d be his forever. “Would you like a taste?” You nodded dumbly, limbs feeling like jello. You thought he’d kiss you, instead you had his tentacle shoved into you mouth, squirming around to taste your own mess in your mouth. Another immediate, albeit small shockwave hit your pussy, dripping down your legs with how turned on having his appendage in your mouth made you feel. Adrian swiped at your pussy, sucking up and licking as much of your cum as you’d give him, “Can’t believe you came again just by that.” Big words honestly for someone that was about ready to cum untouched with how hot you were. Most of his cock fit inside his body, length too long for his kind to have it floating out. He kept the first tentacle in your mouth, loving the way you sucked on it and didn’t let go. “Relax for me, darling girl.” He whispered, feeding his huge cock into your tight wet hole. You squealed around him, the head of his cock so big it already felt like you were being split apart. But it felt so fucking good having him filling you up like this, pushing and pushing at your walls until you were filled to the brim with his engorged cock. You mumbled around him, swiveling and bucking your hips on him, squirming. “Let’s keep you still so I don’t hurt you,” More of his tentacles held your limbs enough for you to not be able to move freely, one still suckling and teasing at your clit with another dipping in teasingly next to his cock, almost as if taunting you--as if you could ever have two of these things inside you at the same time.

Your eyes rolled back, cheeks bulging with the size of his tentacle, tears staining your face whenever the tip hit the back of your throat, Adrian wanted this to be romantic, he swears, but the way you sucked him in--the way you got excited with his tentacles touching you, it was so difficult to keep going like that. His primal instincts were kicking in hard, wanting to claim you fully in every way. His upper body leaned back to take in the sight of you being impaled over and over on his cock, seeing your creamy cunt swallow him up. Your pussy was so juicy, squelches reverberating off the walls of the cove. It was nearly as loud as your muffle moans, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth as your jaw stayed pried open. “Fuck, darling, nor gonna last like this.” He murmured, holding onto your hips once more to slam you down as deep as you could take him, fucking into you over and over until his tentacled cock spurted deep inside you. You swore you could feel his cum filling your stomach, your womb, filling all of you as the excess spilled around the edges no matter how plugged he had you. Adrian panted, slowly retracting his cock from your abused pussy, seeing how his cum dripped out of you in globs onto the floor. He removed his remaining tentacles, smoothing his hands over you and rubbing at your face, nuzzling his nose into yours and your cheek, kissing at you. “I’m sorry honey, I couldn’t help it, you looked so good.” He begged for forgiveness, weaving his fingers with yours.

You smiled, kissing him back with the strength you had, “honey, we can take it slow next time. We have all the time in the world.”

[ww2yaoi]

[Here's another taste of my so far untitled webgott fic because I feel like sharing but know finishing the fic is going to take a while longer so enjoy...]

The sun is beginning to set when David finally rises from his chair, eyes stinging from staring at a blank page for so long. He closes his notebook, grabs a towel, then starts down the winding pathway from the hotel to the lake.

Thankfully, no one’s at the dock when he gets there. The horizon is bathed in burnt orange light, slowly dimming as the sun settles between the mountain peaks in the distance. The air is a bit too cool for a swim, but David enjoys the breeze as it bites at his skin. Anything to draw him out of his thrumming head, to distract him from the lacuna in his sternum, aching with oblivion.

He strips all the way, wanting nothing between him and the water, and dives into the lake. The cold water hits him like a grenade blast, roaring past his ears and soaking him deep to the bone. When David was a child, spending summers away from school on East Coast beaches, he used to see how long he could hold his breath underwater. He would revel in frightening his mother when his head failed to emerge from the waves for minutes at a time. He liked it down there. It was quiet, and he could imagine himself coming from a different world, somewhere unknown and endless where he was better understood, inexplicable like the ocean but loved for his inexplicability all the same.

In the present, David holds his breath until his lungs sting and his head feels fuzzy. Eyes closed, he welcomes the black, embraces the stillness surrounding him. Then, he emerges, gasping, droplets beading like pearls at the ends of his hair. His eyes flutter open, and the first thing he sees is the bottom of a jump boot resting at the edge of the dock. David follows the line of the attached leg to the face peering over at him.

Joe is lounging there with an elbow propped up behind him. He nurses a cigarette, the cherry burning tangerine between his pursed lips. His paratrooper jacket is opened to reveal the clean white of his undershirt, his Magen David glinting around his neck in the dying sunlight.

“Thought you were never gonna come back up for air,” Joe says and the smoke he exhales conceals his pinched expression.

David is surprised to see him. He stands up in the water, toes nestling in the wet sand. Luckily, the waterline comes up to his waist, hiding his nakedness.

“How long have you been sitting there?” he asks.

“Long enough to wonder if you’d fucking drowned,” Joe says, scowling.

“What are you doing here?” David replies. He crosses his arms over his bare chest, feeling oddly exposed underneath the razor’s edge of Joe’s gaze. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I was,” Joe admits. His eyes flick downwards. “I heard about Janovec. Chuck says you were there.”

News travels fast; David frowns. “So what? You here to blame me for it?”

Joe’s eyebrows furrow. “Jesus, Web. Why the fuck would I blame you?”

David shrugs. “I don’t know, Joe. You blame me for a lot of things.”

Joe smirks, a disparate concoction of amusement and irritation that David has memorized on his face a thousand times before. He takes another drag of his cigarette and taps ash into the water. It floats on the surface like flakes of pepper in a bowl of tomato soup.

“Yeah, Web, like what?”

David meets his eyes, unwilling to back down. “Well, for one, you blame me for getting wounded in Holland. You blame me for missing Bastogne. You blame me for not killing a man just because you asked me to—”

“He was a fucking Nazi,” Joe spits, expression hardening. “He deserved to die.”

“Maybe so,” David volleys back. “But the war is over, Joe. Why bloody our hands? Where does this end for you?”

“Until they fucking pay.”

“Yeah, who? Who pays? Millions of people are complicit. Are you going to kill half the population of Germany?”

Joe goes quiet at that, fiddling with his cigarette between his thumb and index finger. His silence simmers with anger and something else, something somber and oppressive, and David realizes he much prefers his open-mouthed rage to this. The only time he’s seen Joe this short for words was after Landsberg, and the last thing David wants is a repeat of that.

It makes him think back to the German baker whose throat he held a gun to. Sometimes, when he closes his eyes, he can feel the weight of the pistol in his hand, his finger inching closer and closer to the trigger. Sometimes, in his dreams, he pulls it. He never told Joe what happened that day. Maybe Joe would say he should have done it.

“You want to go home, right?” David adds quietly. “Leave all this behind?”

Joe says nothing. By now, the sun has dipped behind the mountainscape, painting everything in a spectral blue. A gust of wind whips across the lake, casting ripples through the water, and David shudders slightly. Goosebumps pimple his arms.

“Come on,” Joe says, beckoning him with the tilt of his head. “Get out of the water, Web. You’re shivering.”

“Okay,” David says, but heat blooms on the back of his neck. “You might want to look away though.”

“Why?”

“I’m naked, Lieb.”

Joe snorts and smoke pours out his nose. “What? You ashamed of that tiny, uncut dick of yours?”

David rolls his eyes. “It’s not tiny.”

“Well, it’s hard to see with all that hair on you.”

“You’ve been looking?”

“Jesus Christ,” Joe says. “Come on. We’ve showered together. It’s nothing I haven’t seen.”

“Suit yourself.”

David wades over to the edge of the dock and pulls himself up out of the water, getting to his feet. He reaches for the towel by his discarded clothes, keeping his eyes trained on the tree line in front of him, knowing full well if he glances over at Joe and sees him looking he’ll flush from head to toe. David wraps the towel around his waist and sits down beside him on the dock, pale legs outstretched and freckled with lake water.

They look out at the horizon and David feels the distance stretching between them, like he and Joe are the twin but separate mountain peaks piercing the dusky sky miles ahead. Joe finishes his cigarette and butts it out on the dock, leaving a scorch mark on the wood. He tosses it into the water and it floats for a moment on the surface before being swept under by a wave.

“Hell,” Joe says after a while, his voice low. “What the fuck do I have to go home to?”

David snaps his head to look at him. “What are you talking about?” he says.

“Nothing.” Joe looks sullen, chin tucked towards his chest. “Forget it.”

“What about your job at the cab company?” David asks. “The Jewish girl with the big tits? What about your family?”

Joe scoffs. “Yeah? What the fuck am I gonna say to them? What am I gonna tell my ma?”

“You tell them whatever you want to tell them,” David says. “That you’re a war hero, that you saved Western civilization as we know it.”

Joe laughs, a bitter, leery thing. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

David shrugs. He doesn’t know what he thinks anymore, about the war, about the things he’s done, the things he’s seen. Sometimes he lies awake at night and wonders how his life might be different, if in some version of history the right politicians had shaken hands and all this destruction and bloodshed had been avoided. Joe would still be driving his cab around Frisco, maybe he’d have a wife and a home and children to fill it, and David would be back at Harvard, studying Tolstoy and Flaubert and writing his novel. They never would have met except in this ravaged and desolate place. They would have no reason to relate to one another, vastly different men from vastly different backgrounds, situated on disparate coasts on opposite sides of the country.

David doesn’t believe in fate, or predestination, or whatever the poets call it, but there’s an inevitability to it all, that David would find his way to Easy, to Joe. He’s not even sure if they’re friends, but since Joe lifted him up into that truck in Haguenau, he’s felt drawn into Joe’s orbit. If David’s being honest with himself, he’s never fit in well with the guys of Easy. Not really. They tolerate him, sure, but they never seek him out, not like Joe does. David has never fit in anywhere, not at HQ before his transfer, not at Harvard, not even in his own goddamn family. Without Joe, without his ardour and annoying persistence, it’d be like being lost at sea.

David is pulled out of his thoughts when he feels a knobby finger jab him in the leg. He looks down and sees that Joe is poking him in the calf where the Kraut bullet pierced his skin in Holland, just barely missing the bone. The scar there is pink and mottled, the flesh raised and twisted like the mark on Joe’s neck.

“Hey, quit it,” David says and drags his leg away from Joe’s touch.

Joe leans back on his elbows, smirking. “So that’s the million-dollar wound.”

David glares at him. “If it was a million-dollar wound I’d be home by now,” he says. “And I’m still fucking here, aren’t I?”

Something softens in Joe’s expression, and if David didn’t know any better he might mistake it for fondness.

“That you are, Web. That you are.”

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

can u please do 2bdamned x reader but they have the same music taste? sorry for bad english!! :3

Your English is fine :]

Doc x Reader - tunes n chillin (in other words, yall gonna like MY MUSIC TASTE lol)

Hello there, the angel from my nightmare, the shadow in the background of the morgue.

The base was relatively empty, everyone else off doing who knows what, killing who knows who, leaving you plenty of space to zone out into your own world, music on in the living room while you doodled away in an old sketchbook. A ballpoint pen was the only tool you had on hand now, but the deep black strokes added weight and character to your art.

The unsuspecting victim, of darkness in the valley. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want, where you can always find me.

Scrawling what came to mind, the song inspired you to roughly doodle the main Nightmare Before Christmas characters, the gaunt and oddly handsome Jack Skellington, and his sweet patchwork lover Sally. Oh to have a romance like theirs would be a dream.

And we'll have Halloween on Christmas, and in the night we'll wish this never ends -

"We'll wish this never ends." You looked up from your art, seeing Doc nodding his head along to the music. "Hey, it's a good song." He shrugs when he notices you watching him.

Some weeks later you were in your room, exhausted from dragging around some guy whom Sanford was currently torturing information out of. To drown out the noise, you'd placed a CD into the player and flicked through an old manga, something about a cosmic horror planet coming to devour the earth.

I'm just a normal boy who sank when I fell overboard. My ship would leave the country, but I'd rather swim ashore. Without a life vest, I'd be stuck again. Wish I was much more masculine, maybe then I could learn to swim like fourteen miles away.

Your door was currently non-existent, Hank had ripped out part of the hydraulic seal during a half-MAG rage, so currently only a curtain served as your privacy. Privacy which was often ignored by the lads.

The curtain swayed as Doc stormed in, he wasn't wearing his mask and his displeasure was evident. "Trying to break passed some firewalls is incredibly difficult with all that fucking noise Sanford is making. I'm used to some level but his current toy hasn't stopped screaming his lungs out for two hours straight. I can't even think right now!"

You looked up from your lounging position. "Yeah, that's why I put music on. It's not like I can shut the door." Doc sat on your bed, going back to debugging and unencrypting.

"I'll get it sorted when I have the parts, I promise." You knew why he'd come to your room, it was the furthest from Sanford's makeshift torture chamber in the storage room. Well, that was half of why he'd come. In truth, the old dog had grown rather fond of your company.

You two had a few bits in common, music taste for one, and the differences were good talking points, clashing viewpoints being a discussion rather than an argument. It was nice, yes, he enjoyed being around you.

Now floating up and down, I spin, colliding into sound, like whales beneath me, diving down. I'm sinking to the bottom of my- Everything that freaks me out, the lighthouse beam has just gone out. I'm cold as cold as cold can be... Be...

As you flipped through the gruesome pages of your manga, you paid little attention to your surroundings, the music and all else just melting into background noise.

I wanna swim away but don't know how-

"Sometimes it just feels just like I'm fallin in the ocean." And there it was again, just barely above a whisper, Doc's voice mixing with the vocals.

You couldn't help but smile, his rugged voice was rather lovely when singing, Deimos was right. Dei secretly admitted to you that Doc used to sing him to sleep when he was young, it was nice to finally get to hear it.

"You sing pretty well Doc."

"Hm? Ah." You could see his cheeks turn red, his gaze averting from you. "Thanks. You wanna know something funny? Your playlist seems to have a lot in common with mine. Rather a lot in common."

"Really?" You smiled at him, he seemed to shift uncomfortably under your watchful eyes, his cold exterior slowly giving way to a hidden sweetness. "You'll have to share it with me sometime, we can just listen together for a while."

"Hm," Doc rubbed the back of his neck, giving you a shy smile. "I think I'd like that."

[brightdarkness-2013]

Chapter 2: A Cleaner Chapter

Summary: Jazz feeds it and argues with it. Pretty much it.

“Ya know I hope ya appreciate what I’m doing. Ya have no idea how much I hate being wet and after ya pulled me into the ocean the other night I’m a little irritated with You as well. I have some fresh sushi this time. It’s not as cheap so ya had better eat this. I don’t want to be wasting my money.”

I stared into the inky water for any sign of movement as I tossed in one of the pieces. This was twenty bucks worth I had and if it stuck its nose up at this I was going to be pissed.

“I know you’re there. I’m not going to hurt ya. I can barely swim and the worst thing I could do from here is litter.”

Still nothing. Well I could wait. I was not going to let this fish get one over me.

“That one's tuna ya brat. It’s good. I’ve had it.”

The water was still. Maybe it had left the area after this morning? Or maybe it just didn’t like tuna?

“Fine. This one's salmon, but I didn’t nor will I ever have much of this because it’s so expensive it’s a rip off. It’s not even that good.” I tossed another piece into the water. It floated along the surface next to the other in silence. “I have a younger sister. I can wait all night to get my way.”

I watched the water, lounging on my stomach lazily. Maybe I should call Blaster? Na. He was mer crazy. He’d scare it away. Maybe when it wasn’t so wary and injured. Blaster would go out on fishing trips with his stepfather all the time. He wanted to be a marine biologist. He thought the mysteries of the sea were amazing while I didn’t care to guess what was hiding below the surface. Who knew what horrors were waiting down there? I was torn out of my thoughts by one of the pieces disappearing.

“Finally.”

And of course it took the bloody salmon. Spoiled brat.

“I hope ya know that if ya don’t eat all of this I’m not going to feed ya anymore and I’ll let the fishermen try and shoo ya away. And the way they’ll do it I have no doubt that it’ll involve some painful traps. They don’t like it when things mess with their catches.” I spoke to the mer under the water. Though I couldn’t see it the water churned giving me a decent idea of where it was before it settled again. From what I could tell it was right under where I was throwing the fish. “Come on. Eat the tuna or I’m not giving ya anymore.”

Nothing. So I pulled out the other piece of salmon and dipped it into the water before pulling it back out.

“See? Ya want it ya need to eat everything else.”

For some reason I got the impression that I was being judged.

“Tuna is cheap and has a lot of protein from what I know so quit pouting and eat it.”

I sent the water an unamused stare, trying to send my message since I couldn’t tell if it could understand what I was saying. I doubted it, but that never stopped me from talking before. Then I smiled as the tuna vanished.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” I tossed another piece into the water. “But you’re not getting the salmon until you eat everything else. I’m not even sure what that one is, but it’s apparently popular.”

Nothing happened until the piece stilled in the water and I got the glimpse of black claws. The process was slow and continued on until I was out of sashimi. I watched the water.

“Well I have nothing more to give ya. This box here is for tomorrow. I’ll be back in the morning to feed ya.”

The water churned as it moved under the black water.

“Don’t steal from the traps anymore. If ya do than sure you’re gonna get hurt, but it makes Blaster’s stepdad unhappy and if he’s unhappy he doesn’t bring Blaster on his fishing trips and if he doesn’t bring Blaster then Blasters unhappy. If Blasters unhappy it’s your fault and I won’t feed ya anymore. Got it?”

No response. Not like I was expecting one anyway. I stood.

“I’ll know if ya start stealing. Don’t think I won’t.”

Then I turned and headed home.

444444444444444 Fooooouuuurrrrsssss!44444444444444

Happy Saturday. I was getting up with the freaking sun for this fish. So out I went. Its breakfast in hand. And low and behold there it was. Curling around and between the rocks. None of the traps appeared to be bothered. Maybe it did understand. Either that or it was content with what I was giving it. I lounged back on the pier as I set the box next to me. Popping the lid I watched it.

“Morning. Ya know I’m surprised no ones seen ya yet. You don’t really blend in well.”

It didn’t move. However when I tossed in a piece its gaze turned to the floating fish. It glanced at me a few times before it stiffly moved forward. It favored its left arm as it slipped along the bottom slowly. It settled below the dead meat. I watched with mild interest as it rose up on its tail and reached up. It stopped. Nothing happened for an extended amount of time before its claws dug into it and drug it under. It watched its ‘prey’ a moment before swiftly eating it. Well no wonder it took so long for me to feed it if it did That every time. It moved its gaze back to me and it moved back until it was once again flat against the sand. I tossed another piece in and it watched that one until it settled.

“Quit stalking the sushi. It’s dead. It’s not going to swim away.”

I nearly laughed when it glared at me before going back to watching its new prey. It slowly reached up and stopped again.

“Oh for the love of- grab it! Hey! Don’t growl at me. I’m feeding ya.” I scolded it, but it cautiously reached up again like it hadn’t heard me. Then it snatched it and watched it. “I know you’re not deaf. Eat it. Do something. If you were actually prowling after something that was alive this would be much more interesting, but no. It’s dead. It’s been dead for awhile.”

Great. I was arguing with a fish now. I sighed as it sent me another glare. I fell back on the pier with a huff. I stared up at the dull looking gray that was the sky at the moment. Then I pulled myself back up. I jumped and yanked my legs back up and away from the waters below. I stared down at the mer that appeared below me.

“Ya know that’s Really creepy. Nothing’s supposed to move that quietly in the water.” Silence. “It doesn’t help that ya don’t move or blink.”

It twitched an ear fin, but that was the only response I got. I sighed again before grabbing another piece. It dangled in my grasp and I contemplated a moment. Then I was slowly lowering it to touch the water. Hopefully feeding time would go by quicker if I could get it to take it from my hand.

“I really want to get back to bed. This is Saturday. Saturday. And here I am arguing with You. A fish. I hope ya know I have plans today involving sleep, video games, and pizza with my friends.”

It was still besides its expression settling in a glare.

“Fine. I guess ya don’t want this.”

I made to pull it back and it growled softly.

“Make up your mind. Take it or I’m leaving.”

It took it several minutes to decide to slowly reach up. Its gaze shifting from me to the sorry excuse for a fish in my hand. Then in snatched it before retreating.

“Ya could really act more grateful. I don’t have to do this.” I muttered before doing the same with the next piece I pulled out.

This process of handing it each piece slowly made things quicker with feeding it as it grew used to it over the course of the week. As the days passed I could tell it was healing slowly, but surely. It didn’t move as stiffly and it distributed more weight onto its right arm when it crawled along the sandy bottom. Many of the wounds were slowly shifting into pale scars along its body. It was more noticeable on the black scales. I found myself hanging around even after I was done feeding it. I just talked and it watched me until I left. However one morning it broke the cycle.

“So Blaster and I- hey where are ya going? I was talking.”

I jumped up as it slowly swam the length of the pier. It glanced at me as I followed it every once in awhile.

“I know you’re a mer, but ya should know that it’s rude to just leave when someone is talking. Hey. Are ya listening?”

I jumped down off the pier and onto the sand. It followed the shallows edge. Moving slow enough for me to keep up.

“Where are ya even going? There’s nothing but rocks out in that direction.”

I was trying to argue with a fish. Blaster was going to have a good laugh when I finally told him about my little secret. I hesitated at the hollow in the cliffs edge. The mer stalled before it kept going, following the shallow path of water.

“Hey! Come on! Wait up!”

I followed after it. Running along the slippery edge. If I fell in it wasn’t that deep anyway. The area inside was a small little cove. It pulled itself up on the center rock, its tail curling around it. I looked around the area as it watched me.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding out, huh?”

I sat on the rim and watched as its tail fin opened and closed lazily. It had some healing cuts in the pure white and red edged fin as well.

“So I assume there’s a reason ya brought me home? I could only guess this means ya trust me. Either that or you’re planning to kill me. I really hope it’s the former.”

The mer blinked its sapphire eyes slowly as it let its arms dangle over the side of the rock.

“Ya Do blink. Well that makes ya a little less creepy.” I grinned at it and it tilted its head to the side to rest on one of its arms.

Next

First

Masterpost

[starkstruck27]

We can all have a little harringrove mermay ficlet, as a treat.

Ever since the move to Indiana, Billy kept away from the water. There were no oceans to surf in the middle of butt-fuck, nowhere, so there really wasn't a point. Not only that, but with his father watching his every move and all the small town gossip, there weren't any opportunities to sneak off with the cute boys on the swim team after practice, so there was no point there, either.

So until the summertime, he didn't go anywhere near the water. He only did it again because his father demanded he get a job, and he figured that with the humid Indiana heat, a job without a strict dress code would be perfect. Plus, there was the added bonus of fewer physical injuries if pretty much the whole of his body was going to be on display. So getting a job as a lifeguard at Hawkins Community Pool was the clear choice.

It was an easy job. Keep his eyes open, blow his whistle a few times, make sure all the floats and shit were returned by closing, it wasn't rocket science. And showing up an hour early every Friday and Saturday to teach little kids to swim wasn't hard, either. Dealing with their mothers was worse, but thankfully, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. As long as he flirted back and stroked their egos but cut things off before they got too out of hand, it was fine.

It got worse when Max started showing up at the pool with all her little friends. No matter how many times he blew his whistle and shouted at them to stop running, stop dunking each other, stop bringing food and drinks with them into the water, stop pushing each other in without warning, stop splashing the people who didn't want to be splashed, etc., etc., etc.... it all just seemed to go in one ear and out the other. And pretty soon, Billy was pulling Max aside and threatening to ban the group of them from the pool if they didn't get a parent or some other adult to keep an eye on them while they were there.

"I can either manage the pool or I can manage your asses, but I can't do both, so if you're here and someone else drowns because I'm too worried about yelling at you brats, it's gonna be your fault. Get a parent or some other adult to keep an eye on you, or don't bother coming back, cuz I won't let you in, understand?" He said to her and the rest of them, glaring with more heat in his eyes than the sun at noon.

It shouldn't have surprised him that within a day, they had found a loophole.

The day after he had threatened to ban them, they showed up again, dragging Steve Harrington along behind them. Like, actually dragging him. He didn't even have swim trunks on, he clearly did not want to be there, but once they had gotten him through the gates, there was no turning back. He sighed and resigned himself to a lounge chair, pulling out a book and some sunscreen, and slathered the cream on his pale skin before putting on a pair of reading glasses and starting to get comfortable. Billy barely had time to think about how cute the glasses looked on him when the kids started up their antics, and by the time he'd scolded them, made Henderson take a ten-minute time out, and looked back up at Steve, the other boy was out cold.

Somehow, even with the terrible heat, the constant shrieks of kids, and the loud cracks of thunder that started approaching, Steve stayed asleep for the rest of the day. Finally, after he blew his whistle a few times and told everyone to get out of the pool because of the storm, Billy got down off his chair and approached Max again, almost tempted to grab her by the scruff of her neck like a misbehaving kitten, and glared at her again, leading her and the rest of the brats over to where Steve was still peacefully napping. He shook the other boy awake and turned his glare onto him, if only a little softer.

"Wakey wakey, Harrington," Billy said, standing straight and crossing his arms again.

"What time is it?" Steve asked as he sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes, knocking his glasses askew.

"Time to take your little hellions home. Pool's closing," Billy replied, trying not to get absorbed in the other boys pretty brown eyes. They had flecks of gold in them, and it was taking everything in Billy not to stare.

"Shit, did I really sleep all day?" Steve mumbled as he and the kids started packing up their things to leave. Steve handed the keys to his car off to little Byers and the kids went to put their things in the car and wait for Steve.

"Yeah, but to be fair, you were only out for about three hours. We're closing early because of the storm coming in," Billy shrugged, and as if it were waiting for a cue, it began to drizzle.

"Shit, uh, fuck, I gotta go," Steve said as the rain began, his face going white and his body stiffening up, "I, uh, I'm a little hydrophobic. Rain, um, bothers me if it gets on me, so I have to go. Bye, Billy."

Billy was about to ask if he wanted an umbrella, but Steve never gave him the chance. He tossed the rest of his stuff into his bag, tossed it over his shoulder, and booked it to his car, making it inside just moments before the sky opened up and it began to downpour.

Billy put it out of his mind. At least it explained why he showed up to the pool in jeans and a polo. But the fact that Harrington ran out so fast yesterday annoyed him. He'd wanted to ask him to either stay awake next time to keep an eye on the kids or get them to come with another adult who could, but he was never able to. Maybe if it was still raining tomorrow he could go over and have a talk with him about it.

The next day, his manager at the pool called Billy an hour before the pool was to open and told him not to come in. It was still thundering and pouring down rain, so he figured it would be closed, and now that it was confirmed, he started to make his plans for the day. Since his dad had already left for work, he ate some breakfast with Max and helped Susan with the dishes, then went to his room to get some clothes before taking a shower. It only took him ten minutes, and by the time he got back to his room, toweling off his hair, the sun was out, bright and shiny, not a cloud in sight.

Billy hardly had time to laugh about it when the phone rang again, and again it was his manager. He told Billy that he was opening the pool now, but that he didn't need to come in, the other lifeguards had it covered. Billy thanked him and was told to enjoy his day off, and he was planning on doing just that after he stopped by Harrington's place and talked to him about the situation with the kids.

He pulled up to the giant house just before lunch time, after dropping Max off at the arcade for the day and grabbing a bite to eat. He went up to the door and rang the bell, but was growing impatient as he stood and waited for it to open. Steve's car was parked in the driveway, so he knew he was home, but he couldn't hear any noise from the inside or see any people behind the curtains. He could, however, see the sunlight streaming onto the living room carpet from what looked like a back door, so he figured that now that the rain was over, maybe Harrington was just outside enjoying the sunshine and couldn't hear the bell. So he walked around the side of the house, fixed his hair one last time in a window's reflection, hopped the fence, and strutted onto the back patio like he owned the place.

And what he saw nearly made his heart stop in his chest.

First off, the Harringtons had a pool. A big one with lights and temperature controls and everything. Secondly, Harrington himself was in said pool, relaxing on an inflatable lounger. Thirdly, and probably most importantly, was that Harrington was completely different. He had a long, golden-yellow tail in place of his strong, slender legs, and the scales of the tail shimmered like pirate treasure in the bright sun. His brown hair was wet and wavy, and it tangled up with the little fins stretching up from behind his ears. His skin was more tan than usual, and it looked as though he'd been dipped in bronzer with the way it glimmered. There were thee deep looking gashes on each side of his neck, though they weren't jagged or bloody like fresh wounds would be. They seemed to flutter a little as he breathed, and Steve didn't seem at all bothered by them. His fingernails had grown into sharp claws that looked as though they had been painted to achieve the buttery golden color that they were, and his fingers were all connected by some kind of extra skin, like the webbing of a frog's feet.

Billy could do nothing but stare at the other boy, confusion and intrigue battling for dominance inside his brain. He knew that Hawkins was an ass-backwards town, but this was something else entirely. He genuinely had no idea how to wrap his head around this, other than the idea that maybe the eggs Susan served him earlier were laced with some kind of hallucinogenic drugs and he was just seeing things. But other than that, he could come up with no plausible explanation for why Steve was in his pool after he told Billy he was afraid of water and turned into some kind of... mer-creature.

"Holy shit!!" He heard Steve shout, followed by a loud splash, and that was what finally drew him out of his own head. He was still gaping as Harrington poked just his head out of the water, fear in his eyes as the sunglasses he'd been wearing drifted and sank to the bottom of the pool. Billy was startled as he saw those eyes, they weren't the same as they usually were. They were no longer brown with flecks of gold, they were entirely gold, the color of warm honey and tropical flowers. Billy was so focused on them that he almost didn't realize it when Steve started speaking again.

"Y-you shouldn’t be... what are you d-doing here?" He asked, still refusing to make any part of himself other than his head visible above the wall of the pool.

"I-I, uh, I came to talk to you about the kids since I didn't get to yesterday," Billy said, moving closer to the edge of the pool to try and get a better look at the other boy, "but now I just kinda want to know what the hell is going on here. What... what happened to you?"

"Um, would you believe me if I told you that I was cursed?" Steve asked, finally letting himself drift away from the wall and expose his upper body. Billy did his best not to stare, lest his awe and amazement be misconstrued as digust or scorn.

"That depends on the story you tell me after to explain it," Billy replied, finally starting to get his wits about him.

"It's kinda complicated," Steve said, swimming over to the ledge again and hoisting himself up to sit on it, his long tail still dangling in the water. "But here goes, I guess. You know about all the freaky shit with the upside down, right?"

"Yeah," Billy said, though he didn't know the full extent of it. He knew that there was a weird dimension that was just like their own, and he knew that there were fucked up monsters that escaped from it sometimes, but that was about it.

"Well, it was just after all that started. I didn't know anything about it, just that some of my friends were in trouble and I had to help protect them. So I went into the upside down to try and do that, but something happened to me. It was like a bomb went off, I had thrown my lighter at some creature because they hate fire, but then it exploded and I must've gotten knocked out. I woke up a few minutes later covered in monster goop and once everyone was safe, we all came back home and started to try and patch up wounds and clean up. Only, when I finally got home and turned on my shower, as soon as I was under the water, I started to change. My legs fused together and I fell, but even with a face full of water, I wasn't coughing or splattering, I was just breathing like normal. I looked down and saw the tail and I freaked out, but I guess once I was able to flop my way out of the bathroom and dry off and I found I could change back, I was okay. Still freaked out, but okay. And I figured out that any time I come into contact with water, whatever part of me that it touches transforms. The only time it's different is if it has something in it that changes it. Since this is still just water, even with the chlorine, it works, but if I were to drink a water bottle with kool-aid mixed in, that doesn't count. Drinking plain water doesn't affect my whole body, either, just my mouth, it turns my tongue green and it goes forked. But other than that, I'm usually fine unless I get hit with a lot of water. That's why I freaked when it started raining yesterday. And why I quit the swim team and never swim with the kids. And I don't want to make anyone else freak out either, so you're actually the only person who knows other than me."

Billy was flabbergasted. That spooky place apparently could change people? With magic?! It was like he was living in a goddamn fairy tale in reverse, and he didn't know if he liked that, since fairy tales typically didn't end well, especially when they centered around humans and mermaids.

"So, is there like... any way to get you back to normal for good?" Billy asked, slipping off his sandals and going to sit next to Steve on the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water.

"If there is, I haven't found it. I know what it says in the fairy tales, the 'true love's kiss' and all that, but I doubt the upside down follows the same rules as the Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Andersen. So until I cam find somebody or something to figure this out, I guess I'm stuck like this." Steve replied, examining his abnormally long nails and frowning. It made Billy’s heart sink.

"Can't that psychic girl try and help? She has some kinda link to that place, right? And I doubt she would freak out. Every little girl dreams of meeting a mermaid in real life, she'd probably think it's the coolest thing ever." Billy suggested, shrugging and nudging Steve's shoulder with his own. His scaly skin was cold, but on a hot day like today, it felt nice.

"She might be able to help, but I don't want her to. Sometimes it hurts her to use her powers, and it can be hard for her to figure out what to do if she's never done it before, so it could end up worse than it started. I don't want to put that kind of pressure onto her, especially since she'd blame herself if something went wrong. She's already been through so much, I don't need to traumatized her more. Besides, I've been hiding it pretty well so far, so I can keep hiding it until I can find someone else. And it's not like it's that bad a situation. As long as I keep out of the rain and away from pools, I should be fine." Steve said, shrugging himself and making their shoulders brush again. It felt warmer this time, though it may have just been Billy's imagination, because everything felt warmer to him when he was around Steve, mermaid or not.

"Well, if it means anything, I'll be here to help you while you're like this. And I'll keep your secret," Billy said, his mouth turning up into a tiny smile.

"Thanks," Steve smiled too, and his face turned from tan to bright, shining gold. He must've been blushing. "It does mean something. A lot, actually. There aren't many people who'd be willing to do that."

As he said it, Steve did something that Billy didn't expect. He took his webbed, golden, scaly hand and reached for Billy's, intertwining them as best he could. It didn't work that well, but the sentiment was there, and as Billy looked from their hands back up to Steve's face, he saw him grinning brightly.

And he wasn't sure if it was some kind of mermaid magic or what, but all of a sudden, he couldn't control himself. He leaned forward, close enough that he could feel Steve's breath on his cheeks, and once he saw the tiniest nod of the other boy’s head, he kissed him.

And to his genuine surprise (and pleasure), Steve kissed back.

He sealed their mouths together and while Billy couldn't exactly say the taste was pleasant (like chlorine and sunscreen and something slightly fishy), the way their lips slotted together, as if they'd been made to, absolutely was. Kissing Steve was addicting already, even though he'd only done it once, and he never wanted to stop. He wanted to hold Steve forever and keep him safe and protect him from everything and help him figure out a way out of this mess he was in. He never wanted anything bad to happen to him, and he wished he had the power to make all his problems go away. He didn't have that power, but if he couldn't fix things, he was damn sure he wouldn't let Steve struggle on his own.

"Wow," Steve said as the kiss ended, his eyes big and dreamy and his lips turned up into a bright smile. "You're really good at that."

And Billy couldn't help the giggle that escaped him when he heard how amazed Steve seemed to be, nor could he help it when he leaned forward and kissed him again. By now, Steve was drying off, and his upper body was slowly going back to normal, so Billy was able to properly lace their fingers together and the fishy taste was gone from Steve's mouth. Now it just tasted like sunshine, like Steve.

"You're not so bad yourself," he replied once he pulled back enough to speak, though he remained close to the other boy. It was Steve's turn to giggle as he nudged his nose into Billy's, just wanting to keep him close.

"And I promise," Billy continued, suddenly serious, "as beautiful as you are like this, I'm not gonna stop trying to find a way to fix this for you, okay? I'm gonna help you, no matter what."

"I know you will," Steve said, leaning his forehead to Billy's and closing his eyes with a tiny smile. Billy did the same, and as his feet remained dangled in the water, he felt a soft, scaly tail wrap around his ankles and a few soft fins tickling his toes. His grip on Steve's hand tightened, and for the first time since moving to Indiana, Billy felt completely at peace in the water.

[kimbapisnotsushi]

can i get a uhhhhhhhh datekou swimming headcanons? can or cannot, swimming vs diving vs just floating around, how they do it, pool behaviours, beach behaviours, lake behaviours, river behaviours, anything you have is fine, for the whole team btw, please and thank you 🍪

anon i want you to know this is probably the most random most specific ask i have ever gotten and that makes it extremely funny thank you

also i feel like i need to add the quick disclaimer that i can't swim nor do i frequently visit rivers and lakes so like. i am VERY much out of my depth here (but i do love the beach!)

okay first let's divide between who can or cannot swim

can swim: moniwa, futakuchi, nametsu, aone, obara, sakunami, kamasaki (kamasaki and futakuchi will IMMEDIATELY start a race and will rope entire strangers into it) cannot swim but can at least float: onagawa, sasaya, fukiage only knows how to doggy paddle: koganegawa

a beach trip would be SO intensely chaotic btw the logistics are a fucking nightmare

if they took the train/bus they'd take up half the space. they'd need to take two separate cars bc there are eleven of them. i guess they COULD take whatever van it is they use to get to away games but who in the world is going to drive them, oiwake??? no way in hell they give that man enough migraines DURING school he does NOT wish to be tortured outside of it

(is what he says. but he loves this team and he cares about this team and he tells them that they deserve a break, so why not? it won't stop him from grumbling about needing to take like five cans of coffee with him tho)

oiwake immediately regrets his decision when futakuchi rolls up in oversized sunglasses, one of those big floppy straw hats, and an open hawaiian shirt over a tank top that says "sun's out buns out" a la terribly translated english misprints. futakuchi has no idea what it means

aone has a matching tank top too and on the other hand he DOES know what it says he's just praying that nobody asks him because he has no idea how he's going to explain it

i can see onagawa just being the type of guy who sits and chills under the umbrella with a book and occasionally wanders off to get food, especially shaved ice

he attracts a lot of attention anyways bc his swim trunks look like they belong on the floor of an american retro-style arcade (shoutout to @prick-love-for-pricking for that)

he DOES get up to join the others in dunking futakuchi underwater after sakunami called it a "team bonding exercise"

everyone worries about sakunami btw because "oh my god what if he falls down and gets washed away WHAT IF HE DROWNS WHEN WE'RE NOT LOOKING HE COULD LITERALLY GET KNOCKED OVER BY A WAVE"

futakuchi suggests getting a balloon and tying it around sakunami's wrist like that one picture of the turtle walking around the office or whatever it was

they don't do this but moniwa DOES get a pair of horrifically neon-orange sunglasses and makes sakunami wear them on his head like some kind of beacon

kogane is constantly sending pictures to his fellow first-year mock sports camp club btw and most of the others won't admit it but they are SUPER jealous

kamasaki, while everyone is lounging in the ocean: "so . . . . have any of you guys seen jaws?" futakuchi: "if you don't shut up right now i WILL drown you"

when aone gets tired of the ocean he recruits anyone on land to build a sand castle with him and somehow ends up roping, like, five little kids into helping him build the ultimate sand fortress

so he ends up with obara, kogane, nametsu, and oiwake and a little army of five-to-seven-year-olds

those same kids BEG to play volleyball with everyone once they hear that they're a team btw

so everyone - third years and nametsu included - divides into teams of littles vs high schoolers and ask oiwake to keep score

(the little kids are SUPER impressed with sakunami. one of them tells sakunami that they want to be a libero just like him and sakunami doesn't cry, exactly, but it's a close thing)

they keep rotating people in and out and across teams so that aone is on team a one match then switches with fukiage on team b for the next and so on and so forth and honestly who even cares about who's winning or losing when they're all having so much fun?

they fall asleep on the ride home, all curled up on each other and heads resting on shoulders and all that. oiwake wishes he had his hands free to take a picture, but oh well. some memories are better off swept away with the moment.

[professor-amaryllis]

:{ A Video file is embedded. Valencia Island, Orange Archipelago. 6/9/24 10:12 am. }:

The sun beats down on a beach somewhere on Valencia island, the light glimmering off the picturesque cerulean waves as they lap gently on the shore. Professor Ginkgo seems to be enjoying the peaceful morning, lounged back on a small beach chair set in the pebbled shore, her feet in the water before her. 

It seems perhaps that he may have gotten a bit too relaxed, however, as faint snores betray the fact that behind his sunglasses he has indeed dozed off. Arlene the alolan meowth lounges a few feet away in the grass, and seems to be enjoying the warm tropical weather. 

We see this peaceful scene before us for a few moments before a slight disruption of the film and fast forward symbol on the corner of the screen indicates that the recording is being sped up. The following happen in what, to the viewer, appear to be rapid succession.

Miairu the Gengar detaches and rises up out of a shadow beneath Casi’s chair, and appears to stare at Casi curiously for a couple moments. She reaches out and seems to want to touch or startle Casi, but thinks better of it, disappearing back through the ground.

A few minutes pass and the ghost type returns carrying a stuffed teddiursa which she ever so gently sets on the sleeping professor’s stomach, before leaving once again. 

That pattern repeats about every ten minutes, the small tower of objects growing until A pokeball, a mug (empty), a glass (full of seawater we see the gengar scoop from the ocean), an overly large pair of glasses, a small microscope (set gently in the water beside him), three books and a briefcase join the precarious stack of items. Miairu seems pleased with herself.

A Shiny Gardevoir, Rose, teleports in front of this… spectacle, and Miairu proudly shows off her work to her sister. Rose seems to stare daggers at Casi, Serious even for her species, and yet for what must be a few minutes she simply watches him. 

Miairu after those few minutes of searching brings a few choice seashells to Rose, as if seeking approval, and after some consideration, the Gardevour points out four of them and Miairu balances them delicately on Casi’s arms. Rose nods her head in approval, to Miairu’s delight, retrieves her glasses from the pile, and the two float out of shot together.

Nothing much happens for some time, aside from the sped-up slight shifting of the sleeping professor. We can see the sun move across the sky and the shadows shorten and then begin to elongate once more as hours pass. The film returns to normal speed just as Casi awakes with a start, shooting forward to a sitting position and dumping all of the accumulated items directly into the ocean. Disoriented and confused, Casi stares at the items now soaking in the sea and then to the stark shapes where they had protected his skin from the sun's light, leaving him looking a little bit like a well baked I spy puzzle. 

“Shittō”

:{ Transcription Ends. WWWWWWWWWWW }:

[miscellaneous--bones]

"So what did you do to end up on death row, anyway?" Sebastian's cackle died off. His tail shifted as he leans back against the sofa, raising his bottle against the florescent lights at the edge of the room.

Saoirse's own bottle was set beside her on the desk shed pulled over. Her legs swung idly as she watched a stray bubble float passed the window."I killed my husband with a pair a' fabric scissors."

Sebastian's ear wiggled as his focus switches to her, his brow furrowing. "Hah... sheesh, what'd the bastard do to deserve that? Ohhhhoho did he cheat on you or somthin'? Didn't take you for the jealous type," his surprise melted away to a laughter again. He went back to swirling his alcohol and his tail thumped at the other end of the circular room.

Saoirse's hand quietly fell to her thigh as she took a moment to will her good eye to leave darkness outside the window. Leaning back, she looked towards the lounging salesman. "... told you 'm not human, right?"

"You've mentioned it." Sebastian stilled as he met her gaze, noticing the way her mood shifted. Damn, he'd hit a sore spot.

"Dunno if urbanshade's files had anything on selkies," Saoirse was relieved to see recognition in his expression. "But he sold my coat. It was.. right after my son's death, somethin... punishment maybe? 'E didn't hold up his end of the deal n' I snapped."

It was a longer sentence then he might have ever heard out of her, and brought up more questions than answers. Saoirse had kids? Kids that died? "Deal?"

"'S a long story. He said if I could give him a son, he'd give back my coat. Guess I should've known he was lying after his 5th birthday." There was a sadness settling on her shoulders. Sebastian watched her gaze flutter across the carpet.

Saoirse seemed farther away than before while he contemplated. She'd already read sebastian's file, but it was strange to be on the learning end. It felt rude to pry, but worse to drop it.

"What was his name? Your son." He clarified. Saoirse's eyes finally lifted, "Jonah. He was 9."

Her hand came up to rub at the eye that wasn't scarred and droopy. Her claws caught her hair before she rested her chin on her palm. "His father's name was Joseph."

"So what he... stole your coat to force y'to have his kids?" Sebastian's lip twitched as he spoke. Douche was an understatement, and he would've killed him too.

The expendable reached over to take the neck of her bottle. She swallowed before she answered. Liquid courage, or something. "I thought I lost it, at first. He, comforted me on the beach, and took me home. Didn't learn till later he'd taken it and at that point we'd been married a few years."

"He wanted some fancy magic wifey to show off. I wanted to leave as soon as I found out, but he refused. Said if he got a son- something about his estate- then he'd set it up so we could get divorced. I'd get my coat if he got his kid." As she continued sebastian's face continued to tighten. His tail drew closer and his claws flexed.

"What a fucker. Good thing you killed him. Even if- y'know." Saoirse's mouth twitched upwards. It tickled her to see him so angry at a dead man he never knew, and it was cathartic to be validated by someone who'd been wronged the way sebastian had.

"Gets worse. My first kid was a girl, a selkie." There was a terrible smile across Saoirse's chin, and a glint in her eye. It was angry, in the worst way. "What was her name?" Sebastian questioned.

"Hilda." Her brow furrowed, and her smile faltered. "I named her Hilda."

"Selkies need to be in the ocean fer a while after we're born, to form the bond, and grow our fur and shit. To be healthy. Joseph would've had to give me my coat for her to make it, an I would've brought her back when she was old enough. But... he wanted a son. So..." she rubbed at her eye again, rougher this time. Saoirse pulled in a shuddering breath. Sebastian rose to the edge of his seat. his tail thumped again, closer.

"So he just let her DIE? his kid??" He shouted, louder than he meant to. Saoirse shrugged, taking another sip out of her bottle. "'Probably didn't want me to run off with her or some shit."

The two sat for a moment, allowing the shifting of the facility to fill the quiet. Saoirse breathed, and tried to regain her composure. Ugh, crying in front of the great sabatour, how embarrassing. Sebastian's thoughts raged. His claws picked at the sticker on his bottle as he slumped back on the couch.

"Y'didn't deserve that." Saoirse breathed again, once, twice.

"...you didn't either."

Their eyes met again. Somewhere, gunfire. Saoirse's leg began to sway again as Sebastian laughed. The room felt lighter again, and saoirse chuckled alongside him.

"MAN this place sucks!" The serpent cackled. The selkie hunched over, a hand over her chin as the two were left breathless. "Ugh.. outta all the stupid suckers down here, you seem to be the most tolerable.

Sebastian lifted himself from that creaky little couch and chugged the rest of his bottle. Grabbing the forgotten remnants of the stash they'd found, he called over his shoulder, "I'm not keen to share all these with anyone else, so let's see how good you are at navigating monsters under the influence."

"Hey if you weren't so big I could drink you under the table!" Saoirse pushed herself off the desk and trailed after him, grabbing her own drink on the way.

"Yeah, I'll show you big, short stack." "If I didn't know any better I'd think yer comin' onta' me, solace."

[cvlutos]

So this is for your rent-a-boyfriend au, I filled out the application because immersion is fun~ and yeah, this is my request.

This was a lot of fun to fill out actually- any other needed info I’m glad to give (and no, the email is not mine so I don’t know if it works)

NEPH!!! YOU—AGGGG ITS SO CUTE. YOURE SO CUTEEE!

♡ I.S ~ RENT-A-GIRLFRIEND AU | FLUFF

Sure, he overpacked, but meeting with some normie on a cold Thursday could lead to anything wrong. The last thing he needed was the lost of exp that took him so long to acquire, then again, he lost a few points trying to convince Azul to reserve him a private seat within the Mostro Lounge.

Sure, he overpacked, but meeting with some normie on a cold Thursday could lead to anything wrong. The last thing he needed was the lost of exp that took him so long to acquire, then again, he lost a few points trying to convince Azul to reserve him a private seat within the Mostro Lounge.

He shakes his head with a grimace and animated sigh, pressing his teeth together has he hunched over. Just what a Noob would do, bargain what they cant return, he’s faced enough dungeons to now better, yet here he is. He stops short of the Lounge, slightly off the semi-crowded Main Street, with a glow of soft yellow lights that hung upon bare trees, as if your were deep in the ocean staring at floating jellyfish.

There’s a group of npcs around the front of the building, chatting amongst themselves, each waiting in line. He scans the group, looking for specific, a noob player with light brown hair and hazel eyes. He can feel his scowl deepen, wanting to nearly sink into the ground and be swallowed alive before a tap nearly sends him 10ft in the air. He gives a tiny yelp, moving away from you and staring you over, he curses himself for being such a noob.

You’re short. Yet you have a soft smile with your cheeks tinted slightly pink from the cold, which you don’t seem fazed by. His brows furrow, you don’t seem like the type to need to rent a boyfriend, then again you seem like the shy type. He blinks, clearing his throat. Saying the lines he’s rehearsed so many times before. “I’m Idia… You’re boyfriend.. ig.” He can feel his face heat up as he holds out a shaky hand, turning his head to the side to look away from you.

And you touch it, well him, and your hands are warm. His eyes widen for a fraction, lips moving from a line thin, downward in utter surprise. You introduce yourself, happy—bubbly. The tips of his hair flicker from blue to pink to red to blue once again. He pulls away, shoving his uncharacteristically warm hand into his pocket, before shuffling in place. “Inside—Do you wanna—It’s cold.” He kicks nonexistent dirt, his voice barely above a mumble, before using his head and points towards the building with the ever growing line.

“Azul… you wanted—Inside. He’s inside—yea…” He doesn’t shudder, but he pauses and hesitates a lot, he knows he does. Yet you don’t mind. Yet you’re face almost seems to lighten up at the mention of Azul’s name. You’re so pretty when your happy. He shakes his head dramatically, this isn’t some romcom anime, this is a clear rpg. There is no love interest—but possibly—you walk beside him, slowly becoming comfortable to simply chat your heart away.

Possibly a RGP could have maybe a subplot of romance.

[rosehearrt]

the pool is actually quite nice-- he thinks. as he lounges on what he would consider a mock shore. though it's beach has no sand, and the water smells of chlorine. he is partially submerged in the shallowest stretch of water. " take all the time you need. " he hums, watching riddle. who is currently standing in water that's just up to his knees. maybe, were anyone else, he would of made a joke about how silly it was. but for riddle's sake, and his own, he bites his tongue.

" though, if you come out a little further, i can help better. " rolling some, tail shifting to push him out until he can properly float. ducking below the surface, only to pop up again a few feet away. both hands still able to touch the bottom, though without much difficulty. " we can stay within four to five feet today, how does that sound?"

Riddle’s expression fluctuated between suspicion and uncertainty. It wasn’t that he was frightened of water, per say, nor that he lacked the understanding of how the physics involved with swimming worked, but it was all very new. Needless to say, mother had never let him near any large body of water whatsoever, what was inside of his head far more important to her. She also hadn’t wanted him developing any ‘ unsightly ’ muscles - his body always had to remain just so in order to be able to secure the best possible marriage prospects in the future. But now, here he was, seventeen-years-old and unable to swim. And…well…that fact made it so that he could potentially get himself into grave danger for something easily remedied. Thus, he’d decided to remedy it. Well - actually, Jade had, but still. Riddle had agreed to it.

Because as much as the eel grated on his nerves, and as much as the redhead couldn’t always discern what sort of intentions he had, he did enjoy Jade, and he very much enjoyed their highly intellectual conversations. It was nice, having a classmate who always volunteered to hand out papers with him, who was his go-to for projects, and who was always able to keep up with him when discussing lectures or reading materials. Jade was on a similar level intellectually, in short, and it made him both easy and pleasant to talk to. He wasn’t sure whether or not he trusted the eel, but…he supposed he had to, on some level in order to agree to this.

Though now that they were actually at the pool, he wasn’t entirely sure. The water wasn’t terribly cold around his knees, but he knew the moment he got in that he’d be completely vulnerable, and he didn’t do well with that sort of thing. In fact, he was so overtaken by his anxiety at the moment that he didn’t even have it in him to get excited over the prospect of seeing Jade in his eel form and the idea that he may get to ask questions about it. He was stuck in his own head, staring down at the water, where his distorted reflection stared back at him. 

“…I’m not certain that I’m ready for even that much.”

It was a difficult thing to admit, but it was either vulnerability in the way that could potentially endanger his life, or vulnerability that could embarrass him, so the correct choice was fairly clear.

“You seem rather chipper. Back in your element?”

For now, perhaps a change of subject, and more of a focus on Jade and his behavior would do him some good. So, he attempted to lean into his curiosities more, his arms crossed. He could manage to sit here, right where he was, so slowly he lowered himself. It didn’t help with the slight chill that went through him upon being half-in and half-out, but that was alright.

“I suppose you must miss the ocean at times. You and Floyd both speak so fondly of it.”

[squids-comics]

Here's chapter two of The Planet That Didn't Want to be Saved, as promised!!

I am not from your world. I came from a far off planet, a galaxy or two over. It was a beautiful planet, with clear skies and beautiful plant life. I have a few flowers from home growing outside actually. It helps me on the days I get homesick. 

I left my planet at the age of twenty seven. I felt it was too small for me. Too cramped. My people had amazing strength and the ability to fly. We could survive in the vacuum of space unprotected, so the journey to the stars was rather simple. I just looked up, and before I knew it I was effortlessly floating through the cosmos. I looked to the stars for a destination, and flew off towards the first one I saw. It was a beautiful star, small and bright, twinkling in the inky void of darkness. I flew towards it. It seemed to call out to me. Something about it pulled me towards it, like a magnet. 

I made several stops on my trip. I found several barren planets. One was covered in sand. One was icy. One had some intense acidic rain. I got some particularly bad burns there. Still I pushed on until I came to the star I saw. 

It was beautiful. While it had looked white from afar, it was yellow up close. And it was so warm! Space is quite cold and lonely. But being in the orbit of the star filled me with such warmth. A warmth I had not felt since I had left home. I basked in its glow for a while, soaking in every ounce of warmth. I waited their for hours, lounging in the sunlight, until something caught my eye. A small blue orb, drifting behind the star. I flew over to see it closer. It had little dishes orbiting it. Little artificial moons spinning around it, each with their own little gadgets spinning and whirring. There was life on that planet. 

I hadn't talked to anyone in a while. It had been at least a few months since I left home. I missed my friends, my family, and thought their might be some people on the planet I could talk to, to tide me over till I went home again. I decided to fly closer, inspecting the planet carefully. The blue belonged to vast oceans, spanning most of the planets surface. In between the seas were large expanses of luscious green land, dotted with hills and mountains and forests. Milky white clouds drifted above it all, protecting it, like the shell of an egg. I flew around to the dark side of the planet. Thousands of artificial lights lit up the world, shining all the way to space. There were many people down there. I couldn't wait to meet them.

I flew back around to the light side of the planet. I wanted to see this planet in the light of day. I slowly drifted towards the planet, inching close as slowly as I could manage. I wanted to enjoy my entry, as I would only get one introduction to this planet. I dipped my toes into the atmosphere. It was warm, much warmer than space at least. I hurriedly dove into the atmosphere, the first mistake I made on your planet.

My people have much stronger hearing than yours do. Even now, I can hear the heartbeats of every living creature for miles around. And my hearing was much better before the bombs fell. 

When my head entered the atmosphere, my ears were flooded with thousands of air molecules, each carrying a different sound. I heard birds chirping, children laughing. I heard cheers and confessions of love. I heard screams of rage, shouts and thrown furniture. The roars of chainsaws and the hisses of hydraulics. The toppling of trees and the elimination of the animals that called them home. I heard explosions big and loud. I heard the clamoring of tools, chipping away at the planet I found so beautiful, ripping it apart for every scrap of value that could be wrung out of it. There was the wheeze of machinery, belching smog into the sky. The wheeze of the factory workers building the machines, belching smog out of their lungs. I heard war. The firing of guns, the banging of artillery, thousands of footsteps, some marching forward, some running back. I heard bloodshed. I heard murder. I heard anger, rage. I heard fear, desperate cries for help. I heard the last words of a planet on its deathbed.

It was all too much for me. My head began spinning. I had never heard so much noise before, good or bad. It was dizzying. Before I knew it, my eyes had shut. I was hurtling downwards, headfirst. I had blacked out.

I hurtled to the ground headfirst, head still spinning. I crashed, headfirst into the side of a mountain. I hit the top of the snowy peak, far away from any life. No one had been harmed except me. I rolled down the mountain, tumbling across the sharp, rocky surface. They stabbed me, they sliced me, but the whole time the noises continued. 

Eventually I rolled to a valley, where the ground levelled out. I stopped rolling and tried desperately to catch my balance. I struggled to my feet. My legs burned with strain, as my ears pulsed from the noise. Thousands of voices were crying out in pain. Crying out for help. They needed someone. Why not me?

I took back to the air and flew forward, towards the explosive sounds of fear and pain.

As for chapter three, I've already gotten side tracked with a different project (that I'll be showcasing tomorrow!), so who knows when that'll be written. I'll hold a poll soon to see what I should work on, between my four ongoing series.

[wayward-lives]

Damian first meets him when he's five years old.

It's in the park, the good one that's a bit far away from their house, the one that's close to the sorority house for the local college, the one only their father takes them to. Damian loves this playground; the paint isn't peeling on the equipment and there are lots of things to climb. Lily's sitting in the sandpit, happily playing with her blocks. Their father is sitting on a bench not too far off, his eyes fixed on the group of college girls lounging on the grass. There are no other children around, except for Lily, and Damian isn't about to ask his father to play - he knows that he won't agree.

Instead, Damian is playing on the slide. It's a good slide; bright yellow and super long, and whenever Damian slides down he feels like he's flying. It's a fun thing to do; climb up the ladder, get two whole seconds of exhilaration, then climb back up the ladder again, chasing the freedom he never feels anywhere else.

Just as Damian's about to turn to go back to the ladder, something catches his eye. The slide is at the end of the park, right where the trees and bushes start, and there's movement between the bushes.

Damian frowns and trots closer. It's too big to be a bird, and there aren't any big animals around, and if it was a person, surely they would have announced their presence?

"Hello?" Damian calls out. There's movement again, and this time Damian can see what causes it.

It <em>is</em> a person - a man, with hair like spun gold. He's very tall - much taller than Damian's father, who's the tallest person he knows - and his body is like those men that his father likes to watch lift weights on the TV, the ones that remind Damian of a gorilla. He's cast in shadow, and Damian can't see what he's wearing. There's something shifting behind him, slowly and purposefully, but Damian can't see what it is.

"Hello," Damian says politely, because that's what his mother says he should do when he meets new people.

The man tilts his head slightly in response. He doesn't blink. His eyes are blue - not like Lily's eyes, which are blue like the ocean. This man's eyes are blue like those glow-in-the-dark stones that Damian once saw at the museum, so blue that they give off their own light. Damian is enraptured.

He shouldn't talk to strangers - that's what Mrs Henderson tells them. Stranger danger, she says. Damian likes Mrs Henderson, and she hasn't been wrong ever since he started in her class, so whatever she says must be true. But this man, the man with golden hair and blue, blue eyes, is different. He has to be different.

Why else would Damian feel like this?

"My name's Damian," Damian announces. The man just watches him silently. "My sister calls me Dee, because she can't pronounce it. She's only three. I'm five years old - I can count to twenty!"

The man's eyes bore into his skin, assessing. Studying. He opens his mouth, moves his tongue around as if he's feeling his gums, as if he doesn't know what it's like to have a tongue.

"Damian."

His voice is deep, raspy yet smooth. It floats over Damian like a cool gust of wind on a hot day.

"Yep! Who're you?"

The man doesn't respond to that. He must be shy, Damian realises. He's too pretty to be shy.

"I'm playing on the slide. Do you want to come play with me?"

The man's lips tilt up ever so slightly. "I'll just stay here, thank you, Damian."

Damian shrugs. "Okay. Do you wanna watch me play?"

The man inclines his head ever so slightly.

So Damian plays on the slide, the man's eyes fixed on him, until his father calls him back to go home. When Damian looks over his shoulder as he's being led away, he catches movement beyond the bushes.

-----

The encounter with the man stays with him, like some strange dream he's incapable of forgetting. The years go by quickly, and Damian grows older, sadder. His father leaves, chasing the skirts of a girl who's barely older than Damian himself. His mother works, longer and longer shifts until she's almost skeletal, her face hollow and hands trembling from caffeine. Lily grows distant, dreams of running away and never seeing them again. And Damian grows desperate.

He thinks of the man when he's at his weakest. When his mother passes out on the couch from exhaustion, barely able to stomach the broth that Damian made for her. When Lily stumbles through the front door at three in the morning, high and drunk and wobbling on her high heels. When the other boys at school pinch him, ruin his books, and taunt him as he passes. He thinks of blue, blue eyes, of hair like spun gold, of shadows writhing and curling around the man's sturdy body like living creatures.

The first and last time Damian ever met the man was twelve years ago, and he still remembers it clearer than anything else.

And he knows if he calls for the man, he will appear.

[almostempty]

ME:

“I’m pretty sure Javi’s going to be there,” he says, almost too nonchalantly, meaning he’s in the mood to be messy.

—> I love shitass Steve hahahah

“No, seriously. He was pushing my buttons, being his usual peacock self. I don’t even know how it escalated, but one moment we’re arguing, and the next… he’s got his tongue in my pussy.”

—> I love her

Steve chokes on his own spit at your bluntness. He’s heard and seen much worse on set, yet your confession has him all tripped up. 

—> heheheh

He just grins, unbothered by your sharp tone. “You’re always a joy to work with. No wonder Javi asked for you specifically.”

—> HEHEHEHEHEH YESSSSS

He shrugs, indifferent to your confusion. “Yeah. He’s set for a solo shoot upstairs in one of the bathrooms before he’s on with…”

—> OH MY GODDDDD

“Oh yeah, he made a real fuss about it. Sent away the other guy we had lined up for the shoot. Told me he wouldn’t do it unless you were behind the camera. Even offered to pay out of his own pocket just to get you here. It’s the only reason we’re paying you as much as I promised over the phone.”

—> OH he’s a man on a fuckin’ MISSION heheheheh

You can already picture him upstairs, lounging in one of those stupidly lavish bathrooms, probably smirking that damn smirk of his, waiting for you.

—> yeah, I’m picturing it too mhmm

A guy with a scruffy beard and a beat-up baseball cap stands behind the camera, looking more bored than impressed, barely watching as the two stars go at it.

—> 👀

He’s cute in that disheveled, stray-dog kind of way.

—> accurate

He’s standing in the middle of the room with nothing but a white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, his defined Adonis belt drawing your eyes in a way you hate to admit.

His toned, brown torso glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat, the sunlight pouring into the room making him look like he’s glowing.

—> rereading that for the rest of my life btw

You need to toughen up, and in order to do so, you have to bitch at him. It’s the only way to keep that lustful cavewoman instinct away.

—> SO TRUE

“In my defense— it didn’t sound very convincing.”

—> (also true)

But just as your fingers graze the doorknob, his voice sharpens with a hint of panic, calling your name.

—> heheheh

Javier notices your reaction and leans against the doorframe to the connecting walk in closet, arms crossed over his bare chest, a smirk playing on his lips. “Catering to the female gaze,” he says with a cocky shrug, “At least, that’s what my agent told me. Seems like I’m very popular among the ladies.”

—> oooookay you caught me, where do I order a million copies

It’s important to capture the full picturesque scene to begin with— the soft light spilling in through the window, the sparkling blue ocean in the background.

—> I AM PICTURING IT YEP

Javier moves casually as he unwraps the white towel from around his waist. His cock, already half-hard, demands your attention, but you force yourself to look away. Your rub press together then lick at them unconsciously, trying to focus on anything other than his naked body.

—> sorry I’m drooling

The scene in front of you looks like something out of a romantic painting, and it hits you how undeniably beautiful he looks. His skin, a warm golden brown, contrasts perfectly with the creamy white of the bath, and the colorful flower petals floating on the surface make the whole thing look like a dream.

—> babe u don’t understand, I need it POST HASTE

You shake your head slightly, snapping yourself out of the reverie. You’re supposed to be filming him jerking off, not admiring the aesthetics like this is some fine art shoot. But fuck, it’s hard to separate the two when the visuals are this damn good.

—> BOTH, WE CAN ADMIRE BOTH

“No dirty talk. They want my natural noises to be the main focus… amongst other things.” He cocks his head to the side, one arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

—> I actually have no words, this is criminal

The way his bicep flexes, the muscles shifting smoothly beneath that taut, sun-kissed skin, showcasing just how defined he is while still looking so maddeningly soft. 

—> HOW DARE YOU INCLUDE ARM !! I am gonna be absolutely useless for the next 48 hrs

Javier moves slowly. His head tips back against the edge of the tub, eyes falling closed, the soft curve of his lashes fanning out like shadows against his skin. One hand trails down, lingering at the hollow of his collarbones. The movements are unhurried, almost reverent, as though he’s savoring the feel of his own skin.

—> this is so beautiful; I’m gonna drink that bathwater like freaky little Ollie in Saltburn

If you were anyone else, one of his usual co-stars maybe, you’d lean down and give it a few kitten licks. You’d tease the sensitive crown with your tongue, circling the tip before letting it slide past your lips— just enough to drive him wild.

—> my tongue is numb

A soft groan escapes his lips as he gets closer to where he’s aching to touch. It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he knows you’re imagining the feel of his cock in your mouth, the taste of his salty skin, the way he’d twitch against your tongue as you tease him until he begs for more.

—> PLS STFU (never stop)

His breathing grows heavier, his pouty bottom lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowing in concentration as his pleasure builds. It’s mesmerizing, the way his face contorts, his expressions almost too intimate, too personal for the lens. But you can’t tear your eyes— or the camera— away.

—> SCREAMING UNINTELLIGIBLY LOOKING AROUND THE ROOM AND POINTING AT MY SCREEN RN

“Anything,” there he goes again, using that tone that makes him sound like he’s begging.

—> do u understand how perfect and beautiful and incredible and talented u are? I would kill for u, pull a Joel and take out the hospital, town, world, wtf ever else stands in ur way— like it’s EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED AND WRITTEN SO BEAUTIFULLY LIKE SHUT UP!

“Your cock is so pretty, Javi.” You purr, throwing all caution to the wind, lying to yourself that this means nothing.

—> fuck yesssssss

The effect is immediate. He groans, a deep sound from his chest, and his hand moves faster over his shaft, the slickness of the water amplifying the movement. “Fuck,” he says, his breathing now erratic, “say it again.”

—> FUCK YESSSSS THAT PUNCHED MY PUSSY RIGHT IN THE DICK (??) I know I’m highlighting every single line at this point, but HOW CAN I NOTTTTT ARE YOU KIDDING?????

The way his body jerks in response tells you everything you need to know. His grip tightens on the edge of the tub, knuckles going white as he pumps faster, rougher, pushing himself toward the brink. His hips start lifting out of the water with every thrust into his own hand, chasing that final release.

—> calling out tomorrow because I AM SICK reading this you got me so fucked up whyyyyyyyyy I need it???

“Wait, don’t—” Javier’s voice is still hoarse, but there’s a touch of urgency to it now, breaking through the post-orgasm haze. You hear the water sloshing violently behind you as he moves, and you know he’s getting out of the tub. “Just… hang on.”

—> HEY GIRL WAIT HE’S GONNA SLIP CHASIN’ AFTER U

“Hey—wait!” Javier slips as he tries to step out of the tub, nearly falling as he reaches for you,

—> LMAAAOOOOO yeah like that

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice softens, but there’s a frustration beneath it, like he’s grappling with the same confusion you are. “I wasn’t trying to mess with you, okay?

—> HELP I’M HAVING FEELINGS???

“I don’t want you,” you correct yourself.

—> okay but I do????

“Oh my god, can you just leave me alone—” The words get jammed in your throat as your eyes land on Frankie

—> uh, I sure did straight up forget about F-man after that bathtub scene

You turn to see Javier standing there, arms crossed, jaw tight, his gaze flicking between you and Frankie. His entire posture screams annoyance.

—> heheheHEHEHE HEHEH HEH I did just make the most EVIL expression and cackle at the appearance of jealous Javier Ahhhhhhh

Especially someone who looks like they just got picked up off the side of the road.

—> frankie always catchin’ strays

This is the part of the job that gnaws at you— the undercurrent of exploitation that no one acknowledges.

You’re not naive, you know exactly what sells in porn. You know what these people want to watch, what they get off on. The younger, the better. 

—> PREACH

Poor Frankie catches a stray with that one.

—> HAHA get outta my head

The scene starts with the typical, raunchy premise: Dad pays babysitter with his cock!

—> ope

But you’re catching the small details like you always do.

—> <3

“This is your fault,” he spits out, voice sharp, acidic. “All that shit you were talking earlier— now he’s fucking broken.”

—> heheheh

“I’m not going to sit here and listen to you treat me like shit because your precious Javier can’t get his dick hard. Go fuck yourself, Robbie.”

—> I LOVE HERRRR

“I just quit,” you snap, voice sharp as glass. “See you never.”

—> HEY WAIT

Motive | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 3 of Unscripted Desire | ~10k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Another chaotic shoot... but at least it's in Malibu?

Tags: more plot keeps sneaking into the porn, angst, frankie has entered the villa, jealous!javi, reader stands on business, it's a porn set other people are also fucking, masturbation on camera (m), dirty talk, lots of cursing (f bombs my beloved), an attempt at a blowjob, javier can't get it up, a dash of misogyny, author projects her ooc thoughts about problematic age gaps in the porn industry, no use of y/n, reader has a degree in film production, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: me nervous that part 3 isn't going to live up to the hype? more likely than you think! 🙂‍↕️ this fic is taking on a brain of its own and i'm just along for the ride, baby! for my just the tip stans— i'm sorry but i'm going to have to edge you until part 4 *crowd boos and i'm dragged off stage* i was going to wait to post this, but i really wanted to get it out because i'm so damn proud of it lowkey, lol, so i hope you all like it 🖤 let a bitch know what ya think! also, shoutout to my pookie @persephone-girl for reading over this 💋 love u mamas

Your phone’s shrill ring pierces through the haze of sleep, and you groan in frustration, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

The comforter is pulled tight over your head, shielding you from the annoyingly bright sunlight filtering through your window. Your hand shoots out, fumbling blindly across the bedside table until your fingers finally close around the receiver. 

“What?” you grumble, voice thick with sleep and muffled beneath your sheets.

“There she is! My beautiful, talented camerawoman. Have I ever told you how much I appreciate what you do?” Robbie’s overly cheerful voice blares through the phone, so you pull it back from your ear slightly, wincing.

“Why are you calling me this early in the morning?” you snap, already regretting picking up.

“Early? It’s almost noon—”

“What do you want, Robbie?” You cut him off, not in the mood for small talk, especially since last night’s bar shift ran past four in the morning. You were hoping to sleep through most of the day, recovering in your bed with no interruptions. Clearly, that plan has gone out the window.

“Look, I’ve got a big shoot happening in Malibu today and I’m short-staffed. I could really use your magic touch behind the camera.”

“No.”

 “C’mon,” he drags the word out, “I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for working on your day off.”

You rub your eyes, the remnants of sleep still clinging to you. “How much?”

He tosses out a number, and despite your best effort to remain indifferent, your eyes widen. Damn. That’s more than decent money.

“Malibu’s all the way across town,” you point out, “I won’t make it there in time if I take the bus. And a taxi? That’ll cost me a fortune.”

“Don’t worry about that. Your ride’s outside waiting for you.”

You blink, confused, and get out of bed, dragging the corded phone with you as you move toward the bay window. You pull the curtain back just enough to peer down at the busy street below.

Sure enough, Steve is there, leaning casually against his Jeep with sunglasses on, a cigarette between his lips. The second he spots you looking down, he grins like the cheshire cat and waves.

“Seriously?” you mutter to Robbie, flipping Steve off with a half-hearted smile. “And what if I’d said no?”

“We both know you wouldn’t have.”

After a few more quick exchanges, you hang up, glancing once more at your ride through the window before turning to rush and get yourself ready for the day ahead.

Truth be told, you’re still not fully awake, your body moving on autopilot as you shuffle through your morning (midday) routine.

It’s been ages since you’ve been to the beach— especially one as nice as Malibu’s. The thought of it softens the blow of losing your rest day. You tell yourself you’ll make the best of it, turning this unexpected workday into something that benefits you, too.

After shooting wraps, you’ll indulge in a quiet evening by the shore, sinking your toes into the warm sand with a good book in hand. No rush to head back. This time, you’ll gladly take a taxi if it means getting some peace seaside.

With that plan in mind, you dress for the day accordingly. Your halter-style bathing suit doubles as a cute top, the color complimenting your skin, while your favorite denim shorts sit comfortably over your bikini bottoms.

You pack a few essentials into your beach bag and make sure to grab your camera bag as well. Once you’ve double-checked that everything’s packed, you make your way downstairs, feeling a bit more awake now.

Steve catches sight of you approaching and flashes a dramatic grin, straightening up like he’s about to chauffeur royalty.

“Your chariot awaits,” he announces with an exaggerated flourish, swinging the passenger door open.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the bemused laugh that escapes your lips. “God, you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, shaking your head as you climb into the seat, tossing your beach bag onto the floor.

He shuts the door behind you with a smirk. “Ridiculous? I prefer charmingly dedicated to my craft.” He hops into the driver’s side, flicking the cigarette away before starting the car.

You snort at his self-satisfaction, leaning back against the seat and putting on the seatbelt. 

“Malibu, huh? How the fuck did he manage to swing that?”

He chuckles, one hand lazily draped over the wheel, the other tapping out a rhythm on his knee. “He didn’t tell me much either— just asked me to stop by and pick you up on my way.”

That makes sense. Robbie’s always been a bit scatterbrained, occasionally running around like he’s managing a multi-million-dollar empire when, in reality, he’s holding it together with duct tape and half-assed enthusiasm.

The drive is surprisingly fun, Steve’s constant jokes keeping your spirits high. He always manages to make you laugh, which is why you tolerate his quirks. 

“I’m pretty sure Javi’s going to be there,” he says, almost too nonchalantly, meaning he’s in the mood to be messy.

You keep your gaze focused on the coastline, watching as palm trees blur past. The wind from the open windows has you squinting momentarily, but it can’t cool the sudden heat spreading through your body. 

“It’s not going to be weird seeing him, right?” He presses and you finally turn to face him, moving your sunglasses to the top of your head.

“Why would it be weird?” you ask, the challenge clear in your voice.

He shoots you a look, brows raised and lips quirked in that irritating way of his. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe ‘cause of the whole flirtin’ with you during the middle of a scene thing? Or, y’know, the elevator incident… which, by the way, what the fuck even happened there?” He glances at you, curiosity practically oozing out of him.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, but you can’t stop the way your thighs rub together at the memory. 

Javier’s mouth... God. “None of your damn business.”

“Don’t tell me you fucked him.”

You laugh, loudly, the sound bordering on forced. “Absolutely not.”

He shoots you that okay, sure look, and you groan internally.

Steve’s like a dog with a bone when he gets curious, and you know he’s not going to let this go until you give him something. You sigh, deciding to indulge him— partially. 

“He was being an asshole,” you start, and he immediately interjects with, “Nothing new there,” causing both of you to share a laugh at Javier’s expense.

You shake your head, returning your sunglasses to the bridge of your nose. “No, seriously. He was pushing my buttons, being his usual peacock self. I don’t even know how it escalated, but one moment we’re arguing, and the next... he’s got his tongue in my pussy.”

Steve chokes on his own spit at your bluntness. He’s heard and seen much worse on set, yet your confession has him all tripped up. 

“So, you did fuck him?”

You roll your eyes again, shifting in your seat as the horny flashbacks hit you all at once— Javier’s lips wrapped around your clit, the perfect rhythm of his tongue, his fingers.

You shove those thoughts away, focusing on the road ahead, annoyed at both Javier and Steve now. “Getting head isn’t fucking. It’s, like, third base. And anyway, I made it clear— that’s all he was getting from me. I’m not about to waste my time rolling around in bed with him.”

He gives you a look— a knowing look— and you scoff, shaking your head. “What now?” 

“Nothing. You’re just the first person I’ve heard say that about him.”

“Someone’s gotta humble his ass,” you mutter, though the words feel heavier than they should. You try to act like you’ve put Javier out of your mind, like that moment was nothing but a blip in your life, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple.

You’ve never met anyone like him, and the fact that he can elicit such reactions from you pisses you off so bad.

As the coastline stretches out in front of you, Malibu drawing closer with every mile, you can’t help but wonder if seeing Javier today will be as easy as you’re pretending it will be.

The mansion is far more extravagant than anything you could have imagined. Its grand facade, with towering columns and ivy crawling up the sides, feels like something out of a movie set, and for a second, you almost forget why you’re here.

But then, as soon as you step past the threshold, you hear it— echoing from deep within the house are the unmistakable sounds of exaggerated moans, grunts, and the rhythmic thump of bodies meeting.

You adjust the strap of your camera bag on your shoulder, your beach bag abandoned in Steve’s car. As you step further into the foyer, Robbie appears, that infamous smirk plastered on his face.

“Long way from home, aren’t you, Dorothy?” he jokes, taking in your wide-eyed amusement as you scan the expensive decor— the towering glass chandelier overhead, the marble floors gleaming beneath your feet, the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You can’t help but be a little impressed. 

But of course, he’s there to give you shit about it. You turn your wide-eyed gaze into a glare, bringing your attention to him. “So funny. You should quit your current sleazy day job and take up another sleazy one— stand up,” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He just grins, unbothered by your sharp tone. “You’re always a joy to work with. No wonder Javi asked for you specifically.”

Your entire demeanor shifts viscerally and you curse yourself for it mentally, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what? Javier asked for me?”

He shrugs, indifferent to your confusion. “Yeah. He’s set for a solo shoot upstairs in one of the bathrooms before he’s on with...” He snaps his fingers, trying to remember. “...Mariella. Real pretty girl, it’s her first on-camera gig today.”

The world blurs a little as your mind zeroes in on that one bit of information: Javier asked for you. And not just for any shoot— a solo one. You blink, shaking your head to clear the fog. “I’m sorry, can we go back to the part where I was summoned here by someone who isn’t my boss?”

“Oh yeah, he made a real fuss about it. Sent away the other guy we had lined up for the shoot. Told me he wouldn’t do it unless you were behind the camera. Even offered to pay out of his own pocket just to get you here. It’s the only reason we’re paying you as much as I promised over the phone.”

Your stomach twists and you can feel your face settling into a deep frown, the kind that pulls some of your mood down with it. So that’s why he dangled such a big paycheck in front of you this morning.

After the elevator incident (as Steve has so eloquently named it), after the intense heat of his mouth on you, the way he had you— he said he’d leave you alone. He was supposed to respect the boundaries you set, but here he is, yanking you back into his orbit. 

You can already picture him upstairs, lounging in one of those stupidly lavish bathrooms, probably smirking that damn smirk of his, waiting for you.

You try to squash down the way your pulse quickens at the thought, the lingering memory of his fingers digging into your hips, his tongue working between your thighs, is beckoning you into temptation again.

“Fucking great,” you mutter, more to yourself than your boss. You have half a mind to storm up those stairs, find the pornstar, and give him a piece of your mind before marching right back out to spend your day on the beach— free of drama and distractions and him.

But the reality is, you’re being paid nearly three times what you’d normally make on a gig like this. It’s enough to drown out the temptation to walk away, however satisfying that would be.

You’re an adult. You’ve dealt with worse. You can handle this.

Robbie gives you a sidelong glance, clearly sensing your hesitation. “You’re not backing out, are you?”

With a sigh, you force a smile and shake your head. “As good as it’d feel to leave, no, I’m not. I’ll be up in a sec.”

Relief flashes across his face, and he gives you a few pointers before rushing off into this maze of a house.

You linger for a second longer, taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves. Come on. Get it together. After a final mental pep talk, you head toward the grand staircase that winds up to the second floor. 

The sight that greets you at the top of the stairs stops you in your tracks: Lexxie is splayed out on her back atop some console table, currently getting the life fucked out of her. The visual is chaotic but nothing new. You’ve seen it a hundred times before. 

A guy with a scruffy beard and a beat-up baseball cap stands behind the camera, looking more bored than impressed, barely watching as the two stars go at it.

You lean against the nearby railing, your voice cutting through their heavy breaths and grunts. “Guess your marriage to Javier didn’t last very long,” you tease from off camera, referencing the honeymoon shoot.

The star’s eyes snap open at the sound of your voice, and she flashes you a playful, almost sweet smile in between heavy breaths. “Kinda regretting stepping out on him—oh, fuck.” Her snappy comeback dissolves into a breathy moan as the guy currently rearranging her on the table pushes her legs up to her chest, hitting just the right spot. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ruin your shot,” you say, throwing a glance at the cameraman, knowing how annoying it can be when someone messes with your focus.

He waves it off with a lazy shrug. “It’s not ruined. Honestly, I would’ve quit filming ten minutes ago. It’s starting to drag. I’m impressed they’re still going.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, they’ve got stamina like you wouldn’t believe. Makes me feel lazy in bed sometimes, but then I remember how unrealistic this shit actually is.”

He chuckles, scratching at his jaw. “Should make it an Olympic sport. Bet we’d bring home gold.”

“Pretty sure that already exists and it happens in the Olympic Village.” You smirk, finally peeling your eyes away from the couple to look at him properly.

He’s cute in that disheveled, stray-dog kind of way. His curls poke out from under a worn baseball cap, his beard patchy, and his clothes rumpled, like he just rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he could find. He fits in perfectly with the kind of guys you’d expect on a porn crew.

Earning a genuine laugh from him, he extends a hand. “I’m Frankie.”

You shake it, offering your name in return. “I’m also part of the crew. About to go shoot a scene in the master bathroom.” You explain, noticing how his grip lingers just a little, his smile playful and easy. You feel a bit of warmth rush to your cheeks, and he’s about to say something when—

“Oh fuck, I’m about to cum!” Lexxie’s voice is piercing, loud and breathless, pulling your attention back to the scene.

You shake your head, stifling a laugh. “Well, that’s my cue,” you mutter, stepping out before you get too caught up flirting with him.

“Nice meeting you,” he says before dismounting the camera, moving in closer to capture the so-called money shot.

Cute. Too cute. It’s almost enough to make you forget about the man you’re about to see.

You push open the door to the room Javier’s in, and the sight of him has you doing a double take.

He’s standing in the middle of the room with nothing but a white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, his defined Adonis belt drawing your eyes in a way you hate to admit.

His toned, brown torso glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat, the sunlight pouring into the room making him look like he’s glowing.

You need to toughen up, and in order to do so, you have to bitch at him. It’s the only way to keep that lustful cavewoman instinct away.

“You’re a piece of work,” is what you settle on, making sure to let your tone really punctuate how annoyed you are by the stunt he pulled today.

The second his eyes lock onto yours, amusement flickers behind them, as if he’s been waiting for this confrontation.

He quirks a brow, lips curving into a lazy smile. “¿De que hablas nena—?”

“What happened to ‘if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone’? Was that something you said just to lower my guard? To get me to give you what you want?” You cut him off, keeping your distance even as you notice him inching closer.

Your eyes are daggers as they bore into him, and for a brief second, you hope he feels at least some of the fire burning in your chest. But if he’s affected, he doesn’t show it. He is frustratingly calm, like he’s above it all.

“You gave me no indication that you didn’t want me anymore.” His voice is casual, almost patronizing.

You groan as you throw your hands up in exasperation. “I literally said, ‘Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again.’ What the fuck else do I have to say or do to get you off my back?”

Silence settles between you two as you stand there staring each other down. He’s unreadable, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle.

“Well?” you demand, impatient.

“In my defense— it didn’t sound very convincing.” You stare at him incredulously before turning on your heel. Hell no. He can keep his money and his bullshit. You’re not doing this.

But just as your fingers graze the doorknob, his voice sharpens with a hint of panic, calling your name.

“Wait, look,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not trying to start anything. I just thought—” he pauses, searching for the right words. “I’d feel more comfortable if you were behind the camera during this shoot. Not the other guy Robbie brought in.”

Frankie? He seems so harmless, and besides, Javier’s never had an issue with whoever’s in the room when he’s filming, so why is it a problem now?

However, his tone does sound sincere. You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes and refusing to let your guard down. “This better not be another one of your tricks, Javier. If you’re doing this to try and get into my pants—”

He almost grins, but catches himself just in time, clearly biting back a remark. You can see it in the way his mouth twitches, and you know exactly what he’s thinking. Already have, his brown eyes seem to say. But he holds his tongue, offering a faint nod instead. 

“I promise. No tricks. Just a professional shoot. That’s it.”

You give him one last warning glance before sighing. “Fine. But I’m telling you, Javier—”

“I know, I know,” he interrupts, holding up his hands. “I get it and please stop calling me Javier.”

You arch a brow. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but everyone calls me Javi.”

Ugh, whatever. “Okay, fine, Javi. Just show me where I’m supposed to set up.” 

He bites back another grin and motions you with a flick of his head, and with the weird tension simmering, you follow him toward the ensuite bathroom. The door creaks open, revealing an elaborate setup, and you pause in the doorway, eyes widening.

It’s surprisingly... beautiful.

In front of a massive window that overlooks the sprawling blue ocean outside, there’s a porcelain clawfoot bathtub filled with what looks like a milk bath. Various colored flower petals float delicately on the surface, scattered in an almost artful arrangement.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Well, damn. This actually looks nice.” This bathroom is bigger than your entire apartment.

Javier notices your reaction and leans against the doorframe to the connecting walk in closet, arms crossed over his bare chest, a smirk playing on his lips. “Catering to the female gaze,” he says with a cocky shrug, “At least, that’s what my agent told me. Seems like I’m very popular among the ladies.”

The way he says it makes you want to smack him upside the head. He’s pushing your buttons again in the most subtle way, and you hate how good he is at it.

“Cute,” you reply dryly, walking past him to set your camera bag down on the large counter.

As you begin to unpack and set up, you can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move, lingering on the exposed skin of your back then dripping down to your legs.

It kind of feels good to have him ogling you like this. The whole look but don’t touch thing is really doing it for you, more than you’d care to admit. There’s a certain power in keeping him wanting, yet also forcing the distance.

“It’s not just about the ladies, you know. I actually want this to be good. I trust you to make it look that way.”

You glance over at him. His playful arrogance has slightly faded, shaded in by the genuine want to make this feel more than just some raunchy scene.

“I’m not a director, I just film it,” you remind him, adjusting the camera lens as you try to play it off. “So just do whatever you think is right. Robbie gave me some pointers, but it wasn’t much.”

“Still,” he presses, “there’s some finesse to what you do.”

At least he’s aware of that. “Let’s just get this over with,” you say, deflecting the compliment.

You finish setting up the camera, adjusting the tripod to get the perfect angle. It’s important to capture the full picturesque scene to begin with— the soft light spilling in through the window, the sparkling blue ocean in the background.

You clear your throat, “Okay, I’m all set for whenever you’re ready.”

Javier moves casually as he unwraps the white towel from around his waist. His cock, already half-hard, demands your attention, but you force yourself to look away. Your rub press together then lick at them unconsciously, trying to focus on anything other than his naked body.

“Got plans after this?” he asks as though he’s asking you about the weather.

You blink at the normalcy of the question “Just going to hang out by the beach,” you reply plainly, trying to keep your focus on the camera and not on his crotch.

It almost feels strange talking to him like this, without the usual teasing or sexual tension-laden bickering.

“Sounds fun,” he says as he steps into the tub, the water sloshing around him. “Real nice out here. The weather is perfect for it today.”

You watch as he settles in, the milky water rising around his body, and for a moment, you’re completely mesmerized.

The scene in front of you looks like something out of a romantic painting, and it hits you how undeniably beautiful he looks. His skin, a warm golden brown, contrasts perfectly with the creamy white of the bath, and the colorful flower petals floating on the surface make the whole thing look like a dream.

He leans back, the water just kissing his chest, and you catch yourself imagining what a soft, hazy vignette filter would do to the shot, how it would add an enchanting glow to an already intimate scene.

You shake your head slightly, snapping yourself out of the reverie. You’re supposed to be filming him jerking off, not admiring the aesthetics like this is some fine art shoot. But fuck, it’s hard to separate the two when the visuals are this damn good.

Javier, of course, senses your brief distraction. He watches you, eyes thoughtful as he stretches out, letting the water ripple around him. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a slight smirk playing on his lips, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand, despite the heat pooling between your thighs. “Is there a clear direction for this scene, or are you just improvising?”

“I’m just winging it,” his voice is a rich, velvet drawl, a little rough from all the smoking he does. “No dirty talk. They want my natural noises to be the main focus… amongst other things.” He cocks his head to the side, one arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

Heat blooms low in your belly, shooting straight to your cunt at the sight. The way his bicep flexes, the muscles shifting smoothly beneath that taut, sun-kissed skin, showcasing just how defined he is while still looking so maddeningly soft. 

Calm down, girl, you silently reprimand your pussy. She’s fucking purring right now.

You clear your throat and give him a nod, signaling him to begin. Stepping behind the camera, you focus through the lens, grateful for the distance.

Javier moves slowly. His head tips back against the edge of the tub, eyes falling closed, the soft curve of his lashes fanning out like shadows against his skin. One hand trails down, lingering at the hollow of his collarbones. The movements are unhurried, almost reverent, as though he’s savoring the feel of his own skin.

The intimate build-up draws you in, despite your best efforts to remain detached.

You unmount the camera from its tripod after a few moments, stepping closer to him, framing the shot tight around his chest, the slow glide of his hand along his torso. You can’t help but notice the pounding of your heart, each beat mirroring the steady, throbbing pulse at your clit. 

The sight of him— relaxed, fully in his element, bathed in the soft glow of light— stirs that fucking feeling deep within you.

It’s not just desire, though that’s certainly there. It’s the maddening awareness of how sensual, how magnetic this man is. And even though you try to tell yourself you’d feel the same about any other attractive man in his place, you know that’d be a damn lie.

Javier’s hand moves lower, ghosting over the ridges of his soft stomach. His other hand trails slowly through the water, sending gentle ripples through the milky bath. You swallow hard and focus the lens on his face— the slight parting of his pouty pink lips beneath his trimmed mustache that you just now realize has a small patch right above his cupid’s bow.

Even his imperfections are attractive.

The flushed skin of his cock makes an appearance, his thick, swollen head breaking the surface of the water with each subtle movement, teasing you and the camera. The way it peeks through, the slick tip glistening in the milky bath, almost feels like a taunt— winking at you.

Doing as you’re supposed to, you adjust the lens to zoom in on the way his cock flirts with the surface.

If you were anyone else, one of his usual co-stars maybe, you’d lean down and give it a few kitten licks. You’d tease the sensitive crown with your tongue, circling the tip before letting it slide past your lips— just enough to drive him wild.

Your tongue twitches at the thought.

A soft groan escapes his lips as he gets closer to where he’s aching to touch. It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he knows you’re imagining the feel of his cock in your mouth, the taste of his salty skin, the way he’d twitch against your tongue as you tease him until he begs for more.

Maybe he’s picturing your lips wrapped around him, too.

You bite down on your lower lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet, to stay focused, even though your body is betraying you. The mess in your panties, the way your nipples stiffen beneath your bathing suit top— everything about this moment is dangerous.

Then finally, his fist wraps around his cock, a soft slosh of water accompanying the motion. The eroticism of the scene— paired with the proximity, the memory of those hands on you— ignites that annoying need deep inside.

He strokes himself slowly, eyes still closed as though lost in the pleasure of it all. You focus the camera on his hand, on the way it moves with purpose, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock, slick with precum.

His groans start to fill the air, and your own body reacts, hips shifting slightly as you try to ignore pressure at your cunt.

“Still with me?” His voice cuts through the silence, raspy and knowing, eyes fluttering open to look at you.

Oh. Have they always been this golden?

“Yeah,” you’re proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady.

Javier’s body is pure, unfiltered sin in motion. As you move around the bathtub to capture every angle, you can’t help but admire him. His muscles shift with every slow pump of his hand, the sinewy lines of his arms and torso rippling just beneath the milky water.

His stomach contracts with each exhale, drawing your gaze lower to the faint trail of hair leading down to his cock, which you catch glimpses of when his hips buck up inadvertently.

His breathing grows heavier, his pouty bottom lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowing in concentration as his pleasure builds. It’s mesmerizing, the way his face contorts, his expressions almost too intimate, too personal for the lens. But you can’t tear your eyes— or the camera— away.

His fist moves with such confidence, touching himself with an unhurried rhythm that only a man used to his own pleasure can manage. Every time his thumb glides over the tip of his cock, a heavier grunt rumbles in his throat and it’s so hot.

You’re too focused on capturing every inch of him that it almost catches you off guard when he begins to speak.

“Wish it was your pretty hand around me right now, baby.” His voice is husky, laced with want, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You blink rapidly, heart stalling in your chest as the camera wavers slightly in your hands. “Javier,” you sigh, his name slipping from your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Fuck, I know, but shit—” His words are more ragged now, spoken between heavy breaths. “You’re all I can think about still. You stay in my mind, muñeca. Can’t get you out.”

Even though every rational part of you knows you should stop him, should leave or at least say something to shut him up, you don’t.

You don’t run, you don’t protest. You just... let it happen.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I-I—” The words get stuck in your throat, “I can’t. I’ll ruin the shoot.” Why is that your priority right now?

“You won’t.”

The way he says it chips at the walls you've built around yourself.

“What do I even say?”

“Anything,” there he goes again, using that tone that makes him sound like he’s begging.

So, you say what you’ve been thinking of since he got into this damn tub. “Your cock is so pretty, Javi.” You purr, throwing all caution to the wind, lying to yourself that this means nothing.

The effect is immediate. He groans, a deep sound from his chest, and his hand moves faster over his shaft, the slickness of the water amplifying the movement. “Fuck,” he says, his breathing now erratic, “say it again.”

Your gaze flicks down and it’s mesmerizing watching the way his body responds to his own touch, but it’s the fact that he’s unraveling in front of you that leaves your mouth dry.

“Such a pretty cock, Javi,” you repeat, voice steadier this time, growing bolder with each passing second. Every flex and contraction of his body feeds the arousal pulsing in you. “I bet it would feel perfect sliding down my throat, hitting the back of it until I’m choking on you.”

All those hours spent listening to cheesy porn dialogue are finally paying off.

His head falls back, exposing the strong column of his neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. A guttural groan escapes him as the image of what you just said sets in. His other hand moves down to cup his heavy, swollen balls, the water around him rocking more violently now as he starts to lose himself in the fantasy.

“Shit… I’m close,” he growls, voice breaking with need, the words barely coherent. “Keep talking to me, fuck…”

You lean in slightly, the camera momentarily forgotten. “You want to come for me?” Your whisper is dripping with lust, the idea of him falling apart because of you making your pussy ache. “You want to make a mess? Pretend I’m kneeling right here, my mouth open and waiting for you to fill it, warm and wet just for you?”

You’ve seen him come so many times, watched him fill too many cunts with his spend and paint different parts of their pretty bodies— but none of it compares to the sight before you.

The way his body jerks in response tells you everything you need to know. His grip tightens on the edge of the tub, knuckles going white as he pumps faster, rougher, pushing himself toward the brink. His hips start lifting out of the water with every thrust into his own hand, chasing that final release.

“Fuck, yes…,” he groans, voice strangled, barely holding it together. His eyes squeeze shut, every muscle in his body tensing, going rigid as he falls over the edge.

His bilingual expletives cut off into a long, drawn-out moan as his cock twitches, thick ropes of cum spilling out in messy spurts, splattering against his fist, swirling into the milky bathwater. The petals float lazily across the surface, some clinging to his skin, as the evidence of his release drifts around him.

You stand there, heart pounding, frozen as your brain tries to catch up with your pussy.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, fumbling with the camera as you stop the recording. You quickly move to pack everything up and try your damndest not to look at him.

“Wait, don’t—” Javier’s voice is still hoarse, but there’s a touch of urgency to it now, breaking through the post-orgasm haze. You hear the water sloshing violently behind you as he moves, and you know he’s getting out of the tub. “Just… hang on.”

“No. I-I gotta go,” you stammer, your hands frantically packing up the camera, the lens cap slipping through your fingers. You try to grab it, but your nerves are shot and it fumbles. Thankfully, it doesn’t take damage. You’d hate to hear Robbie bitch at you for breaking the brand-new camera.

Just get out of here is the only thought running through your mind. Every time you’re around him lately, you end up a confused, horny, exasperated mess, and you can’t handle it anymore.

“Hey—wait!” Javier slips as he tries to step out of the tub, nearly falling as he reaches for you, his wet feet squeaking against the floor. You turn just in time to see him catch himself, water dripping from his body, his skin still flushed from what just happened.

“What the hell?” You shoot him a look, “You’re gonna break your neck trying to stop me from leaving—”

“I wasn’t—fuck, just let me talk for a second.” He runs a hand through his soaked hair, water dripping down his neck, over the curve of his shoulders, and you hate how even now, you’re distracted by how good he looks. He reaches for the towel and loosely wraps it around his waist. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Neither did I,” you snap, stuffing your gear into your bag, not caring how haphazardly it’s packed. “This— this isn’t what I signed up for. I’m here to work, remember? Not… whatever the fuck that was.”

He steps closer, reaching for your arm, but you yank it away before he can touch you. The last thing you need is his hands on you right now, reminding you of everything you shouldn’t want.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice softens, but there’s a frustration beneath it, like he’s grappling with the same confusion you are. “I wasn’t trying to mess with you, okay? I just… I don’t know what the hell is happening between us either.”

You stop, finally meeting his gaze. There’s something in his eyes that pulls at the part of you that’s freakishly tethered to him, but you can’t let that get to you now. Not when everything feels so damn complicated.

“Javier, this—” You struggle for words, shaking your head. “This can’t keep happening. I can’t—” You pause, your breath catching. I can’t have you. “I don’t want you,” you correct yourself.

His jaw clenches, muscles ticking under the strain. “Stop bullshitting me,” he growls, eyes narrowing.

“I’m not,” you shoot back, but it comes out too quickly, too rehearsed.

“You’re lying through your fuckin’ teeth, and it’s pathetic. What is so wrong with giving me a chance?” He keeps circling back to this— chances.

One thing about him, he knows how to trigger a fucking migraine. 

“Everything!” The word bursts out of you like a confession. “Everything about this is wrong. It’s why I’ve been trying to stay away since day one, but you’re so— ugh!” You throw your hands up, exasperated, the bathroom suddenly feeling too small and claustrophobic. He’s got you spinning in circles, tying you up in knots, and you can’t think straight around him.

Without a second thought, you turn to leave, your feet moving as if you’re fucking levitating. So what if you’ve made a habit of running away from him? You don’t owe him shit.

“Nena—” Desperation laces his voice and that stupid nickname makes your skin curl. “I don’t want you to leave like this.”

“Well, too bad,” you snap over your shoulder. “I’m leaving so you can’t sweet-talk me into anything.” The slam of the door echoes behind you, a final punctuation to your statement.

As you step out into the hallway, the distant sounds of people fucking filter through the air, kind of grounding you back to the real world.

You can’t keep working with him, not if every interaction is going to end like this. You make a mental note to talk to Robbie after today’s shoot. No more Peña.

The day drags on, the tension from earlier still lingering, but now, sitting outside on the shaded patio, you feel a small reprieve.

A half-eaten sandwich rests before you on the table, your eyes lazily tracing the lines of the zero-edge pool that blends into the horizon. The soft rustle of palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze lulls you into a sense of temporary peace. You glance around, taking in the pristine luxury surrounding you. Rich people really have it made, you think, marveling at the extravagance of someone else’s life.

The spat with Javier lingers but you’ve done your best to ignore it by keeping busy. The other shoots happening in the house have kept you distracted, but you know what’s coming: the last scene of the day— with him— and the new girl, Mariella. A small sigh escapes your lips as you sink deeper into the patio chair, absolutely dreading it.

Your tranquility is shattered when you feel a presence nearby. Already anticipating another confrontation with Javier, you steel yourself and don’t even bother looking up before snapping, “Oh my god, can you just leave me alone—”

The words get jammed in your throat as your eyes land on Frankie, not Javier. He stands there, looking taken aback, a paper bag in one hand and an awkward smile tugging at his lips. You instantly feel like a bitch.

“Shit— sorry,” you stammer, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I thought you were someone else.”

Frankie lets out a small chuckle, brown eyes softening as he rubs the back of his neck. “No worries, I can leave if you want—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, waving him off. “Please, stay. I didn’t mean to be snappy.”

He hesitates for a moment before motioning to the empty chair across from you. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head, and he lowers himself into the seat, setting his lunch down. The small talk starts easily, flowing naturally as you both munch on your food. He tells you about his daughter, a proud smile on his face as he recounts how she’s the light of his life. Then he goes on about how his friends call him Catfish because of some dumb inside joke, and also the fact that he’s a retired pilot. It somehow doesn’t surprise you— the career fits him.

“How do you go from flying helicopters to shooting porn?” you ask, the question half serious, half teasing as you lean back in your chair, eyes hidden behind your sunglasses.

Frankie raises an eyebrow and smirks, clearly amused. “Shit happens,” he says with a shrug. “How do you go from having a film production degree to spending your days staring at tits and ass?”

A wry smile tugs at your lips. You tilt your head, pausing for effect. “... Shit happens,” you echo, the irony not lost on either of you.

He snorts, taking a slow sip of his water, the sound of his laughter rolling into the lazy afternoon air. You can’t help but steal a glance from behind your shades, your gaze wandering over his rugged features.

There’s something about the way the sun hits him just right, casting a golden glow over his tanned skin. You swallow, feeling a subtle pull in your chest, an unexpected attraction. He’s not flashy, not like the other guys you’re used to working with— there’s an unspoken confidence in his ease, a solidness that makes you want to keep looking.

“So… who’d you think I was? Just then?” He asks, adjusting his cap.

You try not to let your small smile falter. “Oh, just an annoying coworker.”

“Ah, the kind who shows up at the worst times, huh?”

“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh, “You know the type.”

Frankie leans in just slightly, lowering his voice. “Well, I’m glad I’m not that guy.” There’s a flicker of flirtation in his tone, his eyes lingering a beat too long. “But if you ever need someone to… keep him under control, you just let me know. Got the remedy for that right here.” 

He exaggeratedly flexes his biceps, and the snug t-shirt he’s wearing pulls taut around his arms, highlighting their impressive size.

You can’t help but admire the view— he’s really fun to look at, all charming smiles and playful confidence.

“I might just take you up on that, actually,” you reply, matching his energy with a teasing smile of your own. “I could definitely use someone who knows how to handle things.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his pink lips. “I’m more than equipped for that, trust me.”

For a second, it feels like the two of you are in your own little world— until, of course, it comes crashing down.

A voice cuts through the moment like a knife. “We’re ready for the last scene.”

You turn to see Javier standing there, arms crossed, jaw tight, his gaze flicking between you and Frankie. His entire posture screams annoyance.

“And who are you?” Frankie retorts, squinting one eye against the harsh sunlight, playful defiance dancing in his tone.

Javier doesn’t seem to like that response at all. “I’m ready to get this shit done with,” he snaps, and you narrow your eyes, practically shooting daggers at him.

Frankie clears his throat, sizing up Javier’s bristling energy. “Right.”

You catch the word presumido slip from his lips— the Spanish insult that has you exhaling a light laugh through your nose, because he’s so spot on and he doesn’t even know it.

Both of you stand, Frankie gathering the remnants of your lunch. “If you’d like some company down by the beach later, I’ll still be around,” he adds smoothly, sliding the proposition in there as casually as if he were just suggesting grabbing coffee. You almost don’t mind him crashing your solo date.

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, pushing your chair in. “It would be great to not have to take the taxi back, but I was willing to do it for a nice afternoon by the water.” You can feel Javier’s possessive stare burning into you from across the way.

Frankie, absolutely unbothered, leans in closer, a charming grin on his face. “Here’s my number if you need that ride.” A pen appears out of nowhere, and he scribbles down his digits on a clean corner of his napkin, tearing it off with an effortless confidence before handing it to you.

“Definitely,” you say with a flirty smile, tucking the napkin into your pocket, feeling a thrill against the scowling presence of the spectator watching from the sliding glass door 

Frankie branches off to use the restroom and you push past Javier, no intention of speaking to him until—

“If you spent less time flirting with the crew and more time focusing on your job, we’d be finished by now.”

You can practically taste his jealousy.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him, your patience running thin. “Really, Javi? You’re jealous of Frankie? That’s what this is about? Did our last conversation not put shit in perspective for you?”

He steps closer, eyes hard, voice low. “Jealous? Of him?” He scoffs, but the tension in his jaw betrays him. “I just don’t appreciate having to wait because you’re too busy cozying up to someone else. Especially someone who looks like they just got picked up off the side of the road.”

“And you wonder why I don’t like you.” Is all you can say, brushing past him yet again, his presence looming heavy as you head toward the living room where the last scene is set to be shot.

The moment Robbie goes on with his usual pre-shoot rundown, your attention shifts to the newbie Mariella immediately, drowning out his usual spiel.

The girl— and she is a girl, no matter what the paperwork says— looks painfully young. Her cropped tee hugging her braless chest, barely keeping her breasts from spilling out, and those flimsy pajama shorts riding high on her thighs. It’s the kind of outfit that makes you uneasy— one you’ve seen too many times in this industry, designed to play into the fantasies of men who want their women to look barely legal.

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sour taste of frustration building in the back of your throat. This is the part of the job that gnaws at you— the undercurrent of exploitation that no one acknowledges.

You’re not naive, you know exactly what sells in porn. You know what these people want to watch, what they get off on. The younger, the better. 

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach when you’re standing on set, watching it play out in real time.

Just as Mariella positions herself, preparing for the camera to roll, you can’t stop yourself. The words come out before you can think to censor them. “How old are you?”

Suddenly, everyone’s attention shifts to you. Robbie. Steve. Frankie. Even Javier, who’s lounging in the corner, waiting for his moment to shine. They all freeze, the casual banter dying off as your question lingers in the air. Mariella blinks, looking around as if unsure who you’re even talking to.

“I—I turned twenty last week.”

Your expression hardens, and the disapproval is written all over your face. “She’s not even old enough to drink, and you’re having her fuck Javier?” Your eyes cut to Robbie, who’s staring at you like you’ve just sprouted another head.

The silence stretches for a beat too long before he scoffs, shaking his head like you’re being ridiculous. “I don’t pay you to hear your opinions on shit,” he snaps, clearly irritated. “Just sit there and record the damn thing.”

Your eyes roll hard enough that it almost hurts. “You’re all a bunch of perverts.”

Poor Frankie catches a stray with that one. It’s like everything is grating on you in ways it usually doesn’t. Normally, you can shove it down and keep your head low because, at the end of the day, you’re just here for the paycheck.

“Perverts pay your bills, sweetheart,” Robbie throws back, all nonchalant. What’s worse is that he’s right.

Moments like this make you wonder how long you can keep doing this without losing a part of yourself in the process.

You look around at the other three men, none of them stepping up to say anything in your defense. Useless.

You shouldn’t be surprised, but it stings. Even Javier, usually quick with a sarcastic quip or biting comment, says nothing. He just sits there, stuffing out a cigarette that’s magically appeared between his lips.

It feels like a betrayal, even though you know better than to expect any different.

And Mariella? She’s clearly distracted, caught up in the magnetic pull Javier has over people. The way she’s looking at him with that starstruck, wide-eyed awe only makes it worse. You can see it in her expression, the way her gaze flickers over him like she’s already imagining how it’s going to feel when he fucks her. Thinking with her pussy instead of having common sense.

You recognize it because you were just in her exact position, drawn into that same orbit. You find empathy for her, but not the other motherfuckers.

The room descends into awkward silence, as if everyone’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you’re not in the mood for a full-blown argument, so you shut down, slumping into the chair behind your camera with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. 

You know it’s only a matter of time before all these feelings you’ve been aggressively pushing down come back up and make you snap, but for now, you continue to force it all away.

You’re assigned to shoot the stoic, wide shots while Frankie’s in charge of the close-ups, and honestly? You’re relieved. The last thing you need is to be up close, watching this trash unfold.

The scene starts with the typical, raunchy premise: Dad pays babysitter with his cock! It explains Mariella’s barely-there outfit and the cluttered coffee table with school notebooks, setting the scene.

Then there’s Javier who looks the part too; dressed in dark blue slacks, a typical white collared shirt with a few buttons popped open to give that I’m stressed, come take care of me vibe.

He’s the picture of temptation, and it’s obvious Mariella’s already in the clouds.

The filming begins and they share that cheesy, erotic dialogue and lustful touches. You feel yourself sink further into the chair, silently counting down the minutes until you’re decompressing by the beach.

She sinks to her knees before him, her doe eyes looking up at him with that practiced innocence they all seem to perfect so quickly. She reaches for the buttons on his slacks, her delicate fingers fumbling just a little before she pulls down the zipper and tugs at the waistband. She nuzzles her face against his thigh, brushing her lips against his skin, and finally pulls out his cock. Even soft, it’s still an impressive size— but it’s definitely not how this was supposed to go.

“Well, are you going to suck it or just stare at it?” Javier snaps, his tone cutting through the air with an edge that feels too sharp, too real. It doesn’t sound like the crudeness that’s meant to spice up the scene.

His hand shoots out and tangles in her hair, yanking her closer. He’s rougher than usual, harsher, as he forces her mouth onto him.

She wraps her lips around his head, suckling softly at first, then taking him deeper into her mouth. She’s trying to do her job, playing the part of the eager babysitter, but something’s off.

Javier’s head tilts back, eyes squeezed shut, but it’s not the usual look of pleasure that crosses his face. It’s more like he’s concentrating, forcing himself to feel something that isn’t there.

You can’t help it— your eyes flick around the room, looking at the rest of the crew. No one seems to be noticing what you’re seeing, their eyes all honed in on the action in front of them.

But you’re catching the small details like you always do.

After a few more moments, it’s clear that it’s not happening. Javier lets out a frustrated curse, pulling out of her mouth with an audible, wet pop. “Fuck—just, give me a second,” he grumbles, stepping back. Mariella wipes the saliva from her lips with the back of her hand, looking up at him with a mix of confusion and hesitation.

You take that as your cue. Reaching over, you stop the recording, your finger hesitating on the button for only a moment before pressing it. Frankie does the same, Steve lowers his mic and pulls his headset off.

Javier runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the floor, like he’s trying to avoid looking at anyone directly. “I just need a minute,” he says again, but it’s more to himself than to anyone else.

Your gaze lingers on him for a second longer than you intend, and your mind flashes back to earlier, to the way he was with you. The memory is sharp and clear, the contrast striking. He’d come undone for you without hesitation, without needing any coaxing or forcing. Just words. But now, with Mariella kneeling in front of him, offering herself up like a gift, he’s struggling. 

“How long will this minute take? We gotta be outta here soon so get it up before I get one of these two to take your place.”

Javier scoffs, dismissive, “Tape wouldn’t fucking sell.”

“Well one featuring a soft dick won’t either,” comes the retort, and the two of them start their back-and-forth bickering.

You rub at your temples, trying to ease the pressure building behind your eyes. This has to be some weird-ass dream; it sure as hell feels like it. Maybe you’re still in bed, blissfully sleeping until three in the afternoon.

Javier storms off and Steve puts his equipment down. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Robbie just waves him away. “Take five,” he mutters to the rest of you, going in the opposite direction. This is such a mess, and poor Mariella remains on her knees, picking at her cuticles. 

“Please get up and sit on the couch. You look pathetic,” you say to her, not cruelly but bluntly. It’s not her fault, but the sight of her there is making you itch. She complies like a chastised child. 

Frankie drops down beside you, letting out a breath that mirrors your own. “These things usually go like this?” He takes his hat off, ruffling his hair before putting it back on.

“No,” shit has just been weird amongst this group for weeks now. “Burnout is inevitable, I guess.” You’re not about to sit there and shit-talk Javier, despite everything. You might have a mountain of complicated feelings when it comes to him, but you won’t kick him while he’s down.

Before Frankie can respond, Robbie comes barreling back into the room, his face flushed with anger. His eyes lock onto you, and you can see the accusation in them before he even opens his mouth.

“This is your fault,” he spits out, voice sharp, acidic. “All that shit you were talking earlier— now he’s fucking broken.”

You narrow your eyes, standing your ground. “Excuse me?” you snap, incredulous. “I was making a valid point. How the hell is it my fault that he grew a conscience?”

“Y’know,” he starts, his words dripping with the kind of vile, misogynistic shit that makes your blood boil. “You’d do me more good in front of the camera. Have somethin’ shoved up in there to keep you fucking quiet.”

The reaction is immediate. You shoot up from your seat so fast the chair scrapes against the floor, the sound sharp and angry, mirroring how you feel. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Frankie stands too, his face hardening as he takes a step in front of you, finally coming to your defense. “Watch it,”  he warns, and it feels like the whole situation could explode into something much worse.

Robbie, of course, just sneers “What? You gonna defend her? She’s been a pain in my ass for weeks—”

“I’m done.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think them through, but they feel right. 

You’re tired— so damn tired— of this whole mess. Of dealing with assholes like Robbie and Javier who think they can get away with saying whatever they want. “I quit.” 

Your boss’s mouth opens as if he’s about to say something else, but you cut him off with a cutting glare. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you treat me like shit because your precious Javier can’t get his dick hard. Go fuck yourself, Robbie.”

You don’t wait for a response. You turn on your heel and head for the door, your heart pounding in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ll double up on shifts at the bar or go back to waiting tables like you did throughout college. Whatever keeps you away from this bullshit. 

As you stride down the hallway toward the entrance, you pass Javier and Steve. Javier’s face is stormy, brows knitted together as if he’s still reeling from whatever heated discussion they just had. 

The moment he spots you, his expression shifts. There’s a flicker of surprise, maybe even concern.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

You yank the heavy, probably expensive for no reason, front door open, the sound echoing through the hallway. “I just quit,” you snap, voice sharp as glass. “See you never.”

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @libre-sol . @cherrysugarx . @goodvibesonly421 .

finally started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out. muchas gracias mis putitas (gn) (endearingly) 🖤

[nekochinchin]

The Truth Or A Lie?

Hi, this a Mammon centric fic. I was going to post this on my AO3 acc and into the Mammon Centric Oneshots book I had published, but this is sort of incomplete, but at the same time complete??

Anyways, read the end notes for more details. If you like this, check out my Mammon Centric works on AO3. Nekochinchin is the username I use there.

Welp, enjoy!

There were times when Mammon’s negative emotions overwhelmed him to the point of almost being blinded by said emotion, sometimes Mammon doesn’t want to hold back and keep those emotions hidden as he continues on with his day. He hates himself sometimes, especially the moments when his head starts wishing for things that he knows he will eventually regret if he were to act on it.

He hates thinking about it, but at the same time, when he imagines it, it brings a bit of relief in his chest. It gives him peace thinking if he just abandoned his brothers in the first place, but then again, he can’t. After all, Mammon loves and values his family too much to even do such actions. But when he’s overwhelmed, he can’t help but think about it. 

Maybe that’s why he’s wasted and barely functioning with the demonus in his system.

——————————————

The sound of a door slamming echoes throughout the walls of the House of Lamentation, the sound practically alerting everyone in the building. It was late, but not late enough that everyone should be sleeping, meaning all of the brothers were just busy lounging around in their prospective rooms. Hearing the ruckus, each demon in the building decided to check it out.

As they leave their rooms, they meet the other brothers and together, they start heading to the front door, where they assume the noise came from. All of them were in their pajamas, but it was clear that none of them were planning to go to bed so early in the evening, except Belphegor. 

“What’s up with the noise?” Belphie grumbles out as he rubs his eye sleepily, the male clutching onto his pillow as he sluggishly follows his brothers.

Satan, with furrowed eyebrows replies. “I have no idea.” He says, annoyed that his reading time was interrupted. 

As the 5 younger demons of the household went down the flight of stairs, they could faintly smell the strong scent of demonus. The moment they could see the front door of the building, they saw the familiar white fluffy hair and tanned skin of their 2nd eldest brother. They all sighed, already tired of their older brother’s antics every night.

“Ugh. It’s just Mammon.” Asmodeus says with clear distaste, an annoyed huff leaving his lips as he stares at his wasted older brother.

Levi scoffs at his older brother’s wasted form. “Is being a scumbag the only thing you know how to do?” He says with a sneer as he rolls his eyes.

Mammon doesn’t respond to any of them, his ocean eyes stare at his little brothers as he feels his head become fuzzy. With how drunk and wasted he is, he knows he’s going to regret the hangover the following day, but honestly? He doesn’t give a single damn. Being drunk is the only way to numb him from the overwhelming shit he has to feel, and it sure is effective.

The white haired male just sits on the cold floor, his back leaning onto the door, feeling peaceful in his drunk state. It feels like he’s floating and he just wants to stay like this forever, the feeling of being someplace far away as he floats through nothing, is honestly one of the greatest feelings he’s felt.

Satan rubs his temples in annoyance. “Beel, go bring the idiot to his room.” He says, motioning to the drunk demon on the floor.

Beel nods his head and makes his way to Mammon, the orange haired male scoops the older male into his arms and he can hear Mammon giggle when he is being picked up. Beel walks past the other brothers but stops moving when he feels Mammon reaching towards Satan. 

The brother looks in confusion to Mammon, wondering what the older male wants from their blond brother. Mammon has a big smile as he looks at Satan that it brings such a warm feeling into their chests, the smile he had on reminded the brothers of when they were younger and when Mammon used to look after them.

Mammon cups Satan’s cheek, his ocean eyes staring right through emerald eyes. Satan is confused yet doesn’t mind the soft touch Mammon has on his cheek, the way Mammon just smiles at him so warmly and with fond eyes, Satan doesn’t really know what to do.

“Ya’ve grown up so much.” The older male says, rubbing Satan’s cheek.

Satan feels his chest bloom with warmth immediately, the way Mammon said it so fondly in his drunk state just makes Satan feel like he was a kid again. He remembers Mammon’s soft smiles and warm touches that he feels like he is reliving that time of his younger years.

“I remember how small ya used to be.” Mammon continues with a smile, and Satan feels his chest become even more warm.

“So fragile.” Mammon says in a soft whisper. 

At this point, the brothers assume that Mammon is reminiscing about the past, because of his drunk state. They guess that with the demonus in his system, it’s making him more soft and fond than he usually is, like the Mammon that used to take care of them when they were young. Like a mother.  

“I wish I had killed ya the moment Lucifer handed ya to my arms.” Mammon says so softly, like a summer breeze passing through.

The room immediately became cold the moment the sentence left Mammon’s lips. Satan freezes in his spot as he stares at Mammon’s smiling, yet soft face. The fond and happy face on Mammon’s face doesn’t match what had just said. 

Satan feels his stomach lurch as Mammon keeps smiling at him and touching his cheek with such care, it almost makes him tremble under the older’s touch. The other brothers watching the scene gape at Mammon with horror, a nasty feeling in their stomach start bubbling up when they hear Mammon say that Satan. 

“Ya were so defenseless, nothing to defend yerself with.” Mammon continues, his smile still plastered on. 

Satan can feel a chill running down his spine when he feels Mammon running his thumb over his cheek, he didn’t know what to do, he was frozen in his spot as his stomach bubbles up a small amount of anxiety in him. The blond didn’t want to believe what Mammon had previously said, didn’t want to remember what he had said, but it can’t be done, since that sentence had already been engraved in his heart and soul.

“I dunno why I let ya live.” Mammon says softly, placing a soft kiss on Satan’s head. 

The brothers feel their stomach drop to what Mammon had said, they were all horrified to what the older demon had said to their technically youngest brother. They were in disbelief that Mammon had said such a thing, it was basically impossible Mammon had even said it in the first place.

The former angels remembered how Mammon looked after Satan with care and love, always protecting the blond when he saw anything threatening to harm the youngest member. It was hard to believe that the Mammon who had raised Satan with such care, is now saying how he wished to have killed the youngest the moment he was in his tanned arms. 

Satan can feel his heart wrench when he stares at Mammon’s bright ocean eyes, the blond can feel his heart burn in sorrow and hurt. It hurts, that he can admit. The only person who was willing to raise him was basically telling him how he should have died all those years ago. Exactly what should he do with that information?

How long has Mammon been thinking that? How long has he been regretting the decision of letting Satan live? Was it always there? Or was it just a recent thought? The brothers asked themselves as they were still frozen in shock, unsure on what to say or how to proceed with this. 

The rest of the brothers can see the pure hurt and anguish in Satan’s eyes, which was understandable. After all, Mammon was the first person to accept Satan’s presence and the only one who raised him. They were unsure if Mammon wanted to kill Satan during that time or whether it was just a recent development. 

As they all stand there in shock with dread bubbling up their stomach, they can hear familiar footsteps coming closer to all of them. They all see the familiar black and dark locks of their eldest brother, his face already set on his usual frown as he stares at all of them.

Lucifer stares at them with a raised brow, wondering why the atmosphere of this room was strained. The eldest wonders why all the 5 youngest of the family have tensed expressions, while the 2nd oldest had a smile on his face and was heavily drunk. 

“Someone enlighten me as to what is going on.” Lucifer sternly asks all of them. 

The younger demons glances at each other with unsure expressions, not really knowing how to explain what happened just a few minutes prior. Satan stays silent, biting his lips as he tears his gaze away from Mammon and onto the floor, his nails digging into his palms. 

Lucifer waits for them to explain, but he sees Mammon jump out of Beelzebub’s arms and starts running towards him. Lucifer feels his torso being tightly hugged by Mammon and he looks down to see ocean blue eyes looking straight at him. Mammon smiles widely at him as he tightens his hug and Lucifer can smell the demonus on his younger brother.

“Lucifer!” Mammon says happily as he laughs brightly. Lucifer can’t help but soften. 

The younger brothers look at their two oldest brothers, the dread in their stomach still bubbling and not going away. They can’t tell if Mammon is truly happy to see Lucifer, or his drunk brain is making him all giddy. 

Mammon snuggles his face onto Lucifer’s shoulder, feeling comfortable and soft, holding onto his older brother, a smile still plastered on the white haired male’s face. Lucifer can’t help but softly pat Mammon’s back, feeling endeared by Mammon’s cuddly side.

“I wish I stayed with Micheal instead of ya.” Mammon suddenly says as he faces Lucifer with a smile.

Lucifer immediately freezes, the atmosphere of the room becoming more cold and tense. The younger brothers stare at their older brothers’ with cautious expressions, they all know how Lucifer feels about Micheal and how Mammon carried trauma from the archangel.

Mammon smiles as he pats Lucifer on the cheek, a small laugh escaping his lips. “If I hadn’t followed ya, I woulda still be an angel.” He says softly.

Guilt washes over Lucifer. He knows that it was his fault that he dragged his brothers down with him, dragged his precious younger brothers to a place that would taint their purity, transforming them into beings controlled by their sins. That guilt of dragging his younger brothers away from purity and onto corruption will always be embedded into his heart, making sure he doesn’t forget what he’s done.

Reminding him of the failure he had done all those years ago. 

Mammon leans his head onto Lucifer’s chest, not noticing the erratic beating of his heart. “Being with Micheal will always be something I loathe.” He says, a soft smile plastered on his face.

“But, staying with ya, Lucifer? It hurts more than what Micheal ever did to me.” Mammon says, his voice soft and warm, as if what he’s saying isn’t ripping Lucifer’s heart to shreds.

The younger demons stare at Mammon with appalled expressions, disbelief running through their heads as they listen to what Mammon had said. They were in shock, not wanting to believe that their brother, the one who hates Micheal more than witches, is saying that Lucifer is worse than he was.

Levi knew bits and pieces about Mammon’s past with Micheal, the indigo haired male knows that Mammon isn’t their actual brother, but Micheal’s. He knows that Mammon was given to Lucifer when Micheal’s abuse towards Mammon was discovered by Simeon, making Mammon part of their family.

The rest of the brothers weren’t created when Mammon was given to Lucifer, but it was inevitable that they were going to question why Mammon was scared of Micheal and how the white haired male looks almost identical to the archangel. 

They were briefed slightly about Mammon’s past, but they don’t know the deeper and more detailed parts of the story. The only ones who know what actually happened beyond that, were Mammon and Lucifer.

So, hearing that their older brother who was personally hurt by Micheal, saying that Lucifer hurts him more than what Micheal ever did, was information they didn’t know what to do with. They were speechless.

Mammon faces Lucifer once again, both of his palms are on Lucifer’s cheeks as he smiles brightly at him. Lucifer looks at him with a devastated expression, his eyebrows pinched together as his ruby eyes continue to stare at the beautiful oceanic and sapphire eyes.  

The white haired male caresses Lucifer’s cheek with care. “I thought that if I chose ya, I’d be happy. But ya just ruined me instead.” Mammon says with a soft giggle, like a child who just got candy.

“Yer worse than Micheal, Lucifer.” Mammon whispers with happiness, his smile soft and warm, not matching the things he’s saying. 

Something lodges itself into Lucifer’s throat, his chest heavy and making it hard to breathe as he continues to gaze into those bright blue eyes. He can feel his tongue becoming heavy as he tries to say something, but it gets stuck in his throat instead. 

What was he supposed to say? 

Mammon told him that he was worse than the person they both hate and loathe with their entire beings, being compared to Micheal this way isn’t something Lucifer wants to hear or ever want to acknowledge. But he can’t ignore it when it’s Mammon who’s saying it, not when Mammon’s saying it to him so sweetly. Lucifer can feel his throat burn as he realizes that he’s become the exact monster that destroyed Mammon. 

Dread bubbles up in Lucifer’s stomach as he imagines Mammon seeing Micheal’s appearance instead of his, seeing Micheal in his features, seeing Micheal when he disciplines him. The thought brings him to a new level of disgust he’s ever felt, his throat closing itself when he swallows. 

Desperately, Lucifer clutches one of Mammon’s hands on his cheeks. His ruby eyes staring at sapphire eyes as he tries to force the words out of his mouth.

“I love you, Mammon. I always will.” He chokes out.

Mammon softens at his words, his smile stretching at what Lucifer had said. “Micheal said the same thing after he hurt me. Sayin’ it was for my own good.” He says, sweetly smiling at him.

A piece of Lucifer breaks as Mammon tells him that information.His heart breaking as his brain screams at him for becoming exactly like Micheal, a being worse than anything Lucifer had ever known, a piece of angel shit that Mammon sees in him. 

Being told he’s exactly like Micheal is a new low for Lucifer. How many times has he failed his brothers already? How much more is he going to become a failure for his family? 

He’s no different than that bastard Micheal. And that just tears him apart. 

Mammon lets go of Lucifer and turns away from him, skipping as he makes his way to the stairs, a hum leaving his lips. The brothers watch him move away from them, their forms stiff as they watch the white haired male. Mammon makes it to the stairs and turns to them with a smile. 

“I wish I abandoned all of ya. Ya made me more miserable than I ever was.” He says with the biggest smile, as if what he said didn’t smack all of them in the face.

Mammon giggles as he goes up the stairs, leaving his brothers behind when he happily waddles away. Not realizing that he had just ripped their hearts to shreds.

End note: I was actually planning on writing the aftermath of this situation, but got lazy lmao.

So here's what I was planning to put for the aftermath:

Mammon remembers what he did last night and tries to talk abt why he said it. Brothers find out abt Mammon having these negative thoughts, but doesnt mean it, cuz he loves them. He explains that the mistreatment he's getting from them is making him think this way.

The anger and sadness is making him conjure up bad thoughts and make him say shit he doesnt mean, like what he did last night

Blah blah blah, the brothers get their shit together for Mammon and they get their happily ever after ending as a family

[undead-merman]

Heyo! I loved your headcanons for the brothers and Simeon as sirens, they were a truly *chef kiss*. Can we also have siren Barbatos and Diavolo? Yandere too and sfw, please!

Thanks in advance!

I'm always down to write Aquatic monsters.

🧜‍♂️Siren Diavolo and Barbatos🧜‍♂️ as a yanderes GN- reader SFW

Diavolo

Appearance

Diavolo is much, much larger than other sirens. While sirens grow to be about a foot or two bigger than humans, Diavolo is massive, fifteen feet long and with tons of bulk and muscle to match his massive size. He looks more similar in size to a giant than a siren.

Despite his size he is dazzling in the sun. When his crimson hair catches beams of light he looks divine, almost like a holy glow surrounds him as he rests on the rocks. His tail is the same stunning red as the blood red sunset and has a bright pearlescent. His scales are just as reflective and polished as a bright red sports car. His skin is deeply kissed by the sun, making his skin look smooth and shiny. His nightshade red fins are long and butterfly shaped; they trail slightly behind him like silk.

He wears all kinds of jewels and golds, all of them perfectly fit around his skull and fins. They drift perfectly around his large frame and glimmer even in the smallest amount of light.

Diavolo is the only siren able to keep his glamor up even if he’s excited, in the water, or even angry. He has full control over it and only shifts to it when he’s actively trying to strike fear into something or someone. His true form is like that of sea monsters in folktales, monstrous in size and able to take a ship down into the dark depths of the open ocean, to swallow whole crews, and create winds and storms as he lets out a devilish scream which can be heard for hundreds of miles around.

Royalty amongst Loners and Sunken Hideaway

Despite their lone lifestyles, only really enjoying the company of their mates, most Sirens look to Diavolo as more of a god than any type of king or prince despite having the title of prince. They worship his power and bow down to his whims and needs. They bring him tributes in the form of small treasures and Diavolo returns these gifts with blessings of more intoxicating songs, stronger wills, his watchful eye and protection, or just overall greater strength. Diavolo seems to freely give these boons no matter how small the gift.

Since he’s a well known and well visited siren, he’s built his home in the sunken ruins of a castle in a city whose culture and history has died long ago. It’s well taken care of by servants who have pledged their lives to Prince Diavolo and are surprisingly pleasant and tolerable with one another. They equate this to Diavolo’s power and grace but only those who are truly loyal to Diavolo stay here.

His voice can bring either madness or blessings and can be the most beautiful thing your ears could ever hope to hear or one so evil, devious, and grotesque you’re driven into a hypnotic bloodlust to those with even the strongest wills. His lullabies sound so melancholic.

He hides away in a large garden which has its own open air biosphere bathed in light by a glass ceiling which has yet to crack yet bathes the whole garden in a beautiful light. A single golden curly willow grows in the center with dozens of flowers growing around it. Here the air is surprisingly fresh and floats on the surface never touching the water around it like it’s a time capsule. He’ll lounge here to clear his head watching the butterflies that have grown here, alone and have never seen the outside.

Spending time with you

You and only you heard his song and wept. The feelings of his loneliness tugged at your heart instead of your head being filled with euphoric thoughts of power and blessings or instantly pounding through your skull until you screamed. You truly heard his song, understood the lyrics behind them and felt the way he did when he sang them. When he saw your face littered with tears and face hot with sympathy for him he felt his whole body go numb. You were something special, someone truly remarkable. He needed to know more about you.

And so started a passion in his heart to learn everything about you, your traditions, your light quirks, your hobbies and everything he could possibly learn. It sent him down a rabbit hole of studying humans that he refused to climb out of and gladly let swallow him if it just allowed him to get closer to you and understand you better.

He doesn’t mind what form you see him in, as long as he can see you he’s thrilled and happy. He’ll approach you like a dog, his tail swishing excitedly as he asks you questions he formed in his head from the day. He has to be careful in his true form otherwise he can cause a lot of damage to the nearby area and draw too much attention to you two.

He loves to pick you up and hold you, be in his true form or not and travel with you on his back, or when his true form shows in his hands or on his head as he intentionally kicks up some water to playfully mist you. Moments like these make him forget he was ever even alone to begin with.

If you ever wanted to see some kind of sea creature or visit some island he’s happy to oblige bringing the creature over with his divine rule over the ocean or happily just takes you there one day while making you cover your eyes to surprise you. The look on your face makes his heart swell so much he almost feels like it will jump out of his mouth if he’s not careful.

Dark Tendencies

Diavolo isn’t against using others to get what he wants, he'll ruin everything for anyone or anything to get what he wants. He’ll destroy small islands and wipe out ports so nothing can distract you from dates he takes you on.

If he feels like you aren’t close enough to him or are drifting away from him, for some reason or another, he’s simply going to just pluck you away from your old life so you don’t have any excuse to be away from him anymore. You're his now, you don’t have to worry about that silly stuff anymore, both of you can be together now. Why not just get married now? It would be much easier. Siren’s don’t marry, they just pick a mate but he’s willing to put the frills on it for you and your human ways. He finds it cute!

He doesn’t ever connect the dots if you struggle against him or plead for him to let you go, he’s wrapped up in his own delusions of you being a happy little couple that he’ll blame some outside force. If you go along with him he’ll remain peaceful and sweet.

He absolutely hates it when other sirens see you and while he’s not outwardly violent to them he is quite hostile. Grinding his teeth and asking them to look away from you while his tail twitches with the intent to lash out.

He gave you your own little haven to decorate, he gave you the garden all for your own. He even made sure to promise to give you your own space and privacy here, just as long as you come to his call. Don’t worry though, only you, him, and Barbatos know of this place, and you can’t run from him here!

Misc stuff

His scales shed infrequently since he doesn’t get into fights with other sirens since all of them know better. His scales are radiating with his power and are well known to bring massive good luck to all those Diavolo gives them to. He’s always giving you things made from his scales and he’s so thrilled to see you in them. He likes adding them to a circlet crown he had made custom just for you so you can match him. He plans on matching you to him with every little piece of jewelry, even down to matching rings.

He requires you to sleep with him. He can sleep out of the water perfectly fine and just pulls you into a lavish den he made for the two of you. It’s somehow unbelievably cozy sleeping with him. His body is warm and everything he set up is the best out there. He just holds you in his warm arms and nods off with you.

He’s quite a picky eater. He refuses to eat anything he doesn’t like and will only eat it if you so happen to beg him to, but only if you're insistent, otherwise he’s already slowly drifting away from it.

Barbatos

Appearance

For a siren he’s smaller than most. He’s quite slender and not much muscle to him, but despite his size, his appearance is perfect in every way, not a hair out of position, not a scale that isn’t out of polished or asymmetric, and his skin without a blemish or scar to be found. He takes a huge amount of time to groom himself perfectly.

His scales more resemble sea snakes, even having black stripes like them, though his tail is a solid dark seafoam green. He’s not especially radiant compared to others, but he doesn’t mind at all, he prefers to melt into the background more.

His tailfin is wide though, having a lyretail shape with black stripes going across it. It’s the same dark color as his scales and he has only two side fins but they look like long ribbons stretching from his hips to about halfway down his tail.

His glamor when melted away leaves behind an even darker looking creature. He looks like a stormy sea and is covered in nasty sharp thorns that don’t just stop at his elbows but lead down to his hips and thin yet long and sharp claws and stark black webbing in between without a tear or hole.

Serving Another

Serving the Royal Family was an honor his family was born with for generations and one he realizes the importance to. Diavolo is powerful enough to sink ships and cities and he provided some of that power and grace onto him rewarding him and his ancestors before him for loyalty, slowly turning Barbatos’s family into nearly just as powerful creatures as him.

He enjoys watching the whims of a child like god try to make sense of a kingdom, it's good fun to see him enjoying his life he is able to live vicariously through his high energy.

He puts his all into everything he does, he hates wasted efforts so he does everything he can into what he does but it gets tiring. Sometimes when trying to sleep, he finds himself unable. He’s always had poor sleep but he’s dealt with it for so long now that it's normal for him now. He starts his morning eating a small slice of kelp known for reducing head pain, all while preparing for the morning.

Spending time with you

If Diavolo took an interest in a human then you certainly had to be interesting. Well when he met you and saw you drinking tea with a huge Diavolo stretched around the floating garden. He just knew you were a human with a soul like no other.

He often brings you your favorite beverages and chats with you, simply at first to get to know you but he found you captivating, each word you spoke he held onto like it was the last he would ever hear and it was gospel. He smiles as you recall old memories, describing how you ended up here. The way you phrased things was unlike anything he had ever heard.

He’s taken the time to find old waterlogged books that were left abandoned in the old library and help restore them for you to read. Inside you find wondrous and fantastical stories of this old kingdom all of them enthralling, and as you read he’s happy to bring you a beverage once more and enjoy your company even if it’s in silence.

Once he’s grown closer with you he often finds himself giving you lingering touches as he pats your shoulder for your attention or grazes his hand on yours when delivering food to you. He even says the most romantic and poetic things to you without even noticing. He falls in love slowly but deeply and almost innocently. He just treasures your time and you as a person, never judging or doubting you.

There was a day when he had pulled you into a parting hug, wishing you a goodnight as Diavolo would return you to the surface but he had simply fallen asleep in your arms. Even Diavolo was shocked as he had never done anything close to something like this. It turns out Barbatos is at the most ease when he’s with you. All of his sleepless nights had just suddenly caught up with him.

Dark Tendencies

His love quickly shifts one day when he see your finger pricked by a stray thorn from a wild flower and as he wiped up the blood with a handkerchief and sees those butterflies fluttering around the wound to drink the blood he realised just how fragile you really were and how nature and life take advantage of that as soon as it could. He couldn’t take losing you. So one day he calls you and just takes you. You think it's just another visit with Baratos fetching you but he takes you to a deep and dark underground cave. Soft phosphorus moss grows all over in cushioned patches and with every step it glows brighter under your feet.

He explains it all to you, openly and honestly but no matter how you plead or try to reason with you, he believes you need to be down here forever. Away from the outside world that would care so little for the death of you and move on like nothing were to happen. He wanted you safe, around and immortalized; he'll never forget you.

He provides you with an array of pleasantries that would have no chance of harming you. He’s damn near baby proofed the small cave but he ensures it's as comfortable as it can be, bringing you three meals a day, all of your favorite drinks and snacks even if you fight him or give him the silent treatment he’s never neglectful of your needs. He believes one day you’ll come to see how much he did for you and understand he just wants you safe.

Misc stuff

He’s a clean freak and refuses to let you sleep on dirt or muck, he’ll thoroughly wash the moss through and treat it so it feels like you're walking on clouds without feeling any slime, having bugs, or being dirty. It's so well taken care of that they look fake.

He hates crabs. He hates those distasteful bottom feeders, their disgusting pinchers and empty eyes. He’s sure to keep them as far away as he can, if startled by one he slams it with his tail with enough force to turn it into little pieces and he’s still frightened by them despite the power difference.