𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝜗𝜚

You were beyond frustrated.

Getting stranded on an island was already annoying enough, but everything else was just piling on; what the hell do you mean there are aliens? Sure, the little blue one was cute and helpful and made the bungalow to sleep in so you didn’t have to get eaten alive by mosquitoes any more than you did, but he was also so energetic and so exhausting… and the other alien was flat-out just trying to rid you and your classmates with robot sharks. Absolutely lovely.

You were also tired of fruit already. You normally loved it, but having it with every meal each day was just rough. Your jaw was sore from chewing coconut, your tongue felt raw from eating pineapple, and you had no taste for more berries and fish. You just wanted a nice steak at this point—rare, so it would be easier on your jaw.

And more, you’ve felt more pent up than you thought was necessary after a few days. Normally when you were on vacation, you would just take care of yourself in the shower if you needed. Here, you have absolutely no chance. None of you were supposed to wander off alone, especially you, being the only one without magic to fight for yourself, so that was off the table. You couldn’t sneak away because someone would eventually find you, whether it be Gantu and his shark bots, one of your schoolmates, or Stitch. You didn’t feel comfortable doing it late at night, either; what if someone hears? How could you even clean up afterwards?

Again, beyond frustrated.

The outfits that everyone were put in certainly didn’t help. You didn’t think you would be one to stare, but you really couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself. It was like that book was just taunting you when it did it. Did Riddle’s shirt have to be tied up like that? Put up just enough to make you want to pick him up by the waist and carry him off to who-knows-where?

Admittedly, you had originally thought your sights would be set on Jack—his outfit really didn’t leave much to the imagination… however, most of your attention was drawn to Floyd.

…Has he always looked like that? Sure, you’ve seen his arms during his basketball games, but (pardon your vulgarity) when the fuck did he get massive tits?

How does he even hide it? Is it just because he wears baggy shirts? Are you an idiot? You feel like an idiot.

You really couldn’t help your staring, or your mind wandering. You silently cursed the universe for it. Why it had to be right now that you see him, when you can’t even do anything about your frustrations, you had no clue.

Yet another night rolls around and you have to sit by the bonfire again, you have to force your eyes to stay on the flames again, you have to constantly bounce your leg in your seat to distract yourself again. You hadn’t said a word in what felt like hours, but it wasn’t much of an issue—everyone else filled in the silence just fine.

Even as it grew later and some of the others slowly trickled back into the bungalow for bed, you stayed put and quiet. You, Floyd, Lilia, and Ace remained—the usual night owls. The other three continued to entertain each other, and sand eventually ended up getting thrown at Ace. Normally you’d laugh, but right now you actually couldn’t give a fuck about your surroundings.

Only when it felt like your eyes would take damage did you finally tear them away from the fire… and immediately to the sand. It really felt like something was wrong with you, you just could not think about anything else. You wanted to see how he’d look with his wrists handcuffed to your bed (or even behind his back), how he’d look on his knees, how he’d look in bondage.

You wondered if he would be good at eating pussy. He looked like he would be. Or maybe not. Maybe you’re just delusional. Maybe you could teach him how to, if he doesn’t. Maybe you could teach him until it’s all he ever wants to do, to bury his face between your thighs, to slowly circle his tongue around your clit just the way you like.

You shifted slightly in your seat on the makeshift bench (it was just a log, but whatever), you could almost feel his tongue on you. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to fight off the dull throb between them, the mental image of your hand in his hair burned into your brain. How much longer do you have to be stuck on this island like this?

You’re just curious is all. You’re just curious as to how he’d react if you rode his dick even after he’d already came, how much he’d squirm if you just sit there and edge him until he can’t even properly speak, how he’d—

“So ya stare at me almost the entire time we’re here, ‘n’ now ya won’t look at me?”

Floyd’s abrupt voice forced you back to reality, your attention snapping up to him from across the fire. You immediately realize Lilia and Ace were gone—when did they go to bed? You didn’t even notice.

You blinked at him, silent for a few moments. You thought you were being discreet enough. Still, you don’t really care much to fully deny it. How do you even respond to that?

“…I dunno.” you eventually murmured with a halfhearted shrug. You looked him in the eyes, and you still couldn’t stop yourself from imagining them welling with tears of pleasure as you…

Man, you really need to knock it off. Maybe you should schedule a therapy session soon, this can’t be normal.

He giggled in response, a wolfish grin on his face. “What, d’ya want something?”

Yes. Obviously. Is he stupid? No, he’s not, he probably knew. He totally knew. You wish you could go just one day without something poking fun at you. Fuck that book, fuck the universe, fuck Floyd. For the love of all things holy, fuck Floyd.

“Nope.” You tried to play it all off, you truly did, but it just wouldn’t work. Of course, that only made him want to prod even more.

“Your poker face sucks, Shrimpy.” he drawled.

“I dunno, your necklaces.” you lied. Curse your pride. “They’re dumb as hell and they’re loud and jangly when you move.”

His humored snort irritated you to no end, but you still managed to keep a straight face. “Really? I think they’re pretty cool.” He glanced down at the array of necklaces dangling from his neck and brushed a hand against them, just to hear the clanking of the fake pearls.

“They’re not.” Really, they looked like something you’d buy from a party store. You think, at least. You can’t really remember the last time you went to a party store.

“Should I take ‘em off, then?” He then bunched the necklaces in his hand.

“No,” you replied almost too quickly, “just saying they’re stupid.”

And of course, Floyd just ignored you and pulled them up over his head anyway, giving you a better view of his body through his open shirt. Okay, now that’s just mean. Is he making fun of you? He has to be.

Your eyes flickered down to the necklaces tossed haphazardly on the sand, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You didn’t know if you wanted to pounce on him so you could fuck him or so you could throw him into the fire.

You swear your mouth was going to start bleeding from how much you were biting the insides of your cheeks.

“You’re mad if I don’t wear ‘em now.”

It had absolutely nothing to do with the necklaces, and you knew he knew that, too. “I really don’t care.”

“Then look at me ‘n’ tell me what the problem is.”

You wanted to roll your eyes until he suddenly snapped his fingers to try and get your attention back on him.

The pure disrespect—you’re not a dog. He’s more of a dog than you ever will be, and you’ll put a leash on him to prove it if you have to.

“Snap at me like that again and you’re losing your fingers.” Truly, you didn’t have the patience for that tonight. Or any night.

“Are ya gonna bite ‘em off? Scary.” His sarcasm made you want nothing more than to shut him up in any way you could. Choke him, gag him, sit on his face, cover his mouth, anything. Just take a deep breath and calm yourself. “C’mere so I can hear ya better. The fire’s too loud.”

Oh, for the love—

“Fine.” You then stood and trudged around the fire so you could sit yourself next to him on that uncomfortable log. Stitch could build an entire bungalow, several blankets, pillows, even sleep masks all from scratch, but he couldn’t make a few couches or chairs out here? Really?

“Now,” he hummed as he leaned against your shoulder, “what’s got ya so mad, Shrimpy?”

It would probably be a good idea to shove him off, but your thoughts were a bit too obstructed right now. “I’m not.”

“Seem mad to me. Are ya mad at me?” You could feel his eyes burning into you, though you still stared at the sand below. Just don’t pay attention to him or his head on your shoulder.

“No.” you mumbled through gritted teeth.

“Then whaddya—“

“Just—just this!” You abruptly pushed him off and grabbed a handful of his shirt, giving it a harsh yank. You blatantly ignored his sharp inhale of surprise and his widened eyes. “What the fuck is this? You show up in this and I just have to try to act normal?!”

Floyd was silent for a few beats before a toothy grin slowly stretched on his face. “…So that’s what this’s about?”

“Yes,” you hissed, “that’s what this’s about. When the hell’d you even start looking like that? Have you always looked like that?”

“Like what?”

“You—you know how!” You just wanted to absolutely throttle him right now, and all he’s doing is smiling and snickering.

He grabbed your wrist and moved it to push your palm into his chest, and all you could pay attention to was how easily your fingers sunk into the flesh. Fuck’s sake. “Like that?”

“Obviously.” You didn’t hesitate to give a tight squeeze—you really didn’t have a reason to restrain yourself anymore.

Floyd visibly suppressed a wince, his fingers twitching around your wrist. “I mean—“

“I don’t actually care.” Your hands continued to aimlessly wander around his chest, his torso, his arms. Maybe you were overwhelming him, you weren’t paying much attention.

He never stopped you, though, so there’s that at least. “Got handsy quick, Shrimpy.” he mused as you squeezed and felt around his shoulders.

“Shut up.”

“‘Kay.” And then he swatted your hands away and slid himself onto the sand, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your shorts.

“…Hell’re you doing?” Despite the irritation in your voice, you still lifted your hips to aid him in tugging your shorts down. You weren’t just gonna not do that and blueball (Bluepussy? Blueclit? Whatever) yourself.

“What’s it look like? I’m shutting up.” He kept eye contact as he guided your thighs apart before leaning in, using his teeth to grab the edge of your panties and tug them down. He didn’t bother to look and see what the book had decided to put on you, and neither did you. It could’ve been the best lingerie you’ve ever seen or the ugliest pair that you’d find at an old thrift store, you didn’t know nor care.

He lazily pulled your thighs onto his shoulders. It wasn’t much longer until his tongue slowly dragged over your clit, and you were unable to stop your body from tensing. His tongue felt weirdly soft and long—is that just a merfolk thing? Oh, who cares, it feels good.

The moment your hand slid itself into his hair, he immediately dove in. His lips latched on and he gently suckled on your clit, his tongue swirling with newfound vigor in a way that had your hips involuntarily squirming against his face.

“F-fucking slow down—“ you managed to gasp out before slapping your free hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your own choked moans and squeals. You really didn’t want to wake anyone up, even if they were inside the bungalow.

Floyd deliberately disregarded your words and let out a small hum against you, the vibrations making your thighs clamp around his head. Despite your earlier thoughts, you couldn’t exactly tell whether he was actually good at it or not; he was just doing whatever he felt like, no organized movements. It worked, at least.

Your orgasm was building a lot quicker than you would’ve liked. You tried and tried again to tug him back by the hair, yet he refused to let up. His hands grabbed onto your hips to hold you in place, his tongue keeping its steady pace. You were just about to cum, until he stopped altogether.

He pulled away with a taunting chortle while you twitched and squirmed from the unsatisfying denial.

“…Dickhead.” You planted a foot on the center of his chest, shoved him onto his back and kicked some sand at him—just for good measure.

You didn’t give him time to respond before plopping yourself on top of him to straddle his hips.

“What, whaddya gonna do?” What you wanted was to beat that smile off his face, but you couldn’t really do that, could you?

The moment Floyd’s hands found your waist, you tugged them off with an absentminded ‘don’t touch me.’

His grin immediately dropped into a pout, still trying and failing to get his grip on you again. “C’mon, Shrimpy, don’t be mean…” he whined, planting his feet in the sand in an attempt to grind his clothed cock into you.

Oh, the audacity of this man. “Stop squirming.”

“I’m not squirming!”

“You are!”

“I’m just getting comfortable.”

“Well, knock it off, the stupid button on your shorts hurts.”

”Then take ‘em off—“

You gave a swift smack to his chest before he could finish his growled demand. “Don’t even try that with me right now.”

The smack made him writhe a bit more with a small huff. “…Do that again.”

And so you did without hesitation, delivering another equally-as harsh slap to his skin, which drew an odd cackle from him.

“Thanks, Miss Shrimpy.” he said way too gleefully for your tastes as he bucked up against you again.

You wanted to grimace at the name, but your attention was quickly brought back to his grinding. “I said quit that.” you mumbled, finally making a move to unbuckle and open his belt.

“You take forever.” Floyd complained, not wasting another second before helping to tug his shorts down enough for his dick to spring out. He grabbed your hips again to try and pull you onto himself. “Now get on, get on, get on, get on…”

And you didn’t let him, just yet. You kept your hands firm on his chest to hold yourself up. “I’m not getting on after what you did.”

“Aw, c’mon!” he whined, “I was being nice. I could’ve been a lot worse!”

Now, how the hell was edging you nice? Whatever. You didn’t answer him, because why should you?

You grind your pussy down against his dick, your slow pace almost agonizing for him (and yourself, but his impatient desperation was a lot more important than yours right now).

It was only a few rolls of your hips before they were grabbed forcefully with a low whimper from Floyd. “Okay, I get it, Shrimpy, I get it.” His fingers dug into your skin, hoisting you up to hover over his aching cock. “Just do it already.”

“I’m not gonna—“

“Please?”

That made your jaw tense a bit. “…’Please,’ what?”

“Please fuck me?”

You hardly even registered what you were doing before you finally let your hips sink down, slowly taking in his dick. The low whine drawn out from him almost made your breath falter, and your fingers twitched against his chest with each inch.

You had to keep still for a few seconds after bottoming out to adjust, because by God he felt bigger than you were anticipating.

Predictably, he wasn’t very patient once he was inside. “Shrimpy, are you gonna move? Please? Please move, please, please—“

“Would you just sh-shut up?” Despite your best efforts, your voice was a bit shaky while your body got used to the feeling.

“I’m just askin’ ya to move!” Again, he attempted to squirm underneath you until you smacked his chest, his hand shooting to cover his mouth and suppress a whimper.

“Yeah, yeah, be patient…” After a few moments, you let yourself slowly lift your hips before abruptly slamming them back down, the feeling of his dick immediately hitting your sensitive g-spot forcing a sharp gasp from you—fuck, it was like he was just made for your pussy. Was that even possible? You almost wanted to ask if you could get a custom toy modeled after it.

Later, though.

“No, no, don’t stop right now, Shrimpy…” His arms wrapped around your waist and you’re suddenly pinned against his chest as he pounded into you from below.

Is this guy allergic to going slow?

You weren’t even given the opportunity to reply before your hair was tugged back and his mouth was on yours, muffling any noises either of you made as his tongue slipped its way past your lips.

Again, his tongue felt so strange, so foreign against yours. Not unpleasant in the slightest, you almost wished you’d kissed him sooner than now; it just felt good.

Until it was forced down your throat. You didn’t know if he just got overly excited but it really just felt like he was trying to facefuck you with his tongue, tears pricking your eyes while you tried to suppress a gag. You struggled in his grasp, overwhelmed with both the lack of air and his cock slamming into you harder than you could process, and he snickered into the ‘kiss.’

You finally managed to squirm free and broke away to gasp for breath, planting your hips down harsh enough to pin his own to the sand. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” you managed between your panting.

“My bad.” Nothing about his demeanor was apologetic, though—not his tone, not his grin, not his hands already trying to lift your hips again.

“That’s not an apology.”

“Sorry, Miss Shrimpy.”

A swift slap to his face. “What’d I tell you about that?”

“Sorry.”

To your own mild surprise, your hand wrapped around his throat with a squeeze, though what surprised you even more was that he was just letting you.

You didn’t ask why.

Your eyes narrowed and your hips slowly ground down, trying not to pay too much attention to how your clit rubbed against his skin. “Why can’t you just be fucking respectful?”

“I said I was sorry!” he pouted, his voice scratchy from your choking him.

“Are you really sorry?”

Floyd nodded with a whine. “Yeah, sorry, I get it, just go faster…” He tugged you up again and you allowed it. “You forgive me, right, Shrimpy?”

You didn’t want to, but whatever; you just wanted to cum at that point. “Fine.”

At that, his hands guided your hips to slam down against his again. He let his own moans flow freely, though his smile made it obvious that they were exaggerated just to further piss you off. “Shrimpy, it feels so good…”

“Quit that, y-you’ll wake someone up.” You gave his neck another squeeze in warning.

“That’s their problem! Not like they didn’t already know ya wanted to fuck me.”

You could feel your face heat up in embarrassment at the thought—you really hoped nobody else actually noticed your staring. “…Shut up.” You used your hand on his chest for better leverage to pound his cock harder.

Floyd’s breath caught, his head thrown back as he tried to match your pace. His jaw clicked shut with a curse through his teeth, unable to get out any more words to taunt you with.

A few more moments, and he was already throbbing inside you from his impending orgasm. “Sh-Shrimpy—“

“Nope.” You immediately lift yourself off enough for his dick to slip out, twitching from the sudden loss of stimulation.

“What, no? No, no no no, no ‘no,’ don’t ‘no…’” he babbled as a panic immediately set in. He tried to force you back down, his hips surging up to no avail. “I said I was sorry! I did, Shrimpy!”

His hands were tugged away again and you shifted atop of him, crawling your way up his body before turning around to hover your cunt above his tearful face. “Make it up to me, then.”

Without a moment of hesitation, Floyd yanked you down. His tongue delved and writhed in desperation with mumbles of ‘sorry’ and ‘promise,’ each vibration from his begging making your thighs twitch around his head.

It was better (albeit more frantic) the second time around, which you were appreciative for.

His dick trembled and leaked with precum in front of you, crying more than he himself was. “There, good boy…” you hummed, your fingers wrapping around him to give a few leisurely strokes.

Another whine from him and his tongue shoved itself inside you. Sure, getting tonguefucked works, too, you supposed.

You leaned down to press a few kisses along his length, his hips instantly bucking up against your face. “Chill out.” you hissed, trying to hold him down.

“Wanna cum…” It took a few moments, but he eventually relented and kept still.

“Me first.” With that, you allowed his tip to push past your lips. Normally you’d take more than that, but you really didn’t feel like it. It’s not like he needed anything more, anyway.

Or deserved anything more.

His response was to pump his tongue deeper into your pussy, only pulling it out to swirl at your clit every few moments.

You tried to keep your focus on pulling your mouth off his tip each time he started twitching again, but it was getting so, so hard to with the knot in your core rapidly tightening.

You didn’t bother to warn him before your thighs involuntarily squeezed around his head and your vision went white, your hand returning over your mouth to quiet down your own sounds that didn’t really sound quite like yourself.

Once you were at least somewhat aware of your surroundings again, you felt a hand roughly grasp your hair and his dick forced down your throat again. You weren’t even able to catch your breath first, how rude.

Floyd only needed to pump a few more times, the feeling of his cum shooting at the back of your throat making you flinch atop of him and instinctively swallow. You hardly noticed his panting and his whiny thank you’s when you pull off, finally gasping for air.

“…Ask to do that next time.” you grumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your wrist as you slid yourself off of him to fetch your clothes from wherever they’d been thrown.

“I know, I know, sorry! It was taking forever!” It almost annoyed you that he was able to just zip right back up and buckle his belt in no time, while you had to slip everything on again. It would’ve been great if the book gave you more accessible clothes, but fine. “I’ll make ya somethin’ good tomorrow, Shrimpy. Iunno, I’ll catch a different fish than everyone else for ya in the morning. It’ll be a big one, too.”

“Mhm, sure, let’s just wash off in the water.”

“Nope! Don’t feel like it. I wanna go to bed.”

“Then you can go do that, I’m washing—“

“Nope!” He scooped you up in his arms, deliberately locking you against himself to keep you from moving as he trudged his way back up to the bungalow. “Bedtime.”

You grimaced. “Ulch, we're all sticky, though.”

“Yep. Maybe we’ll wake up stuck together in the morning ‘n’ everyone else’ll have to peel us apart.”