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jellys-compendium · 3 hours

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DARK POOL

aquatic monster x reader | 18+ | 2.8k

story summary; your granduncle explains that the noises at the bottom of the lighthouse and the missing chunk out of his leg are from swimming rats. you let him think you're a fool.

story warnings; some graphic depictions that some may consider gory, mentions of biting, mentions of rats, creature in captivity, explicit sexual content, double penetration (not safe), prose + detail heavy, implied breeding, not proofread.

if you enjoyed it, please reblog + interact!!

Granduncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.

He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.

It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.

“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”

You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.

“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”

Granduncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”

Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, granduncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.

Granduncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”

When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.

For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.

There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.

You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brought a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.

So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.

He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.

“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”

Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.

“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”

“No.”

He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.

You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.

He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.

“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”

With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.

There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.

He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.

The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.

It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.

So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.

His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.

“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.

Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.

“Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”

The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.

“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.

You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.

“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”

He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.

It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.

His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.

You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”

There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.

Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.

He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.

“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.

He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.

“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”

"Just—just don't hurt me.”

His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.

Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.

Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.

You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.

After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.

“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”

You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.

a/n: not my best work, but hopefully passable. it's really helpful when y'all reblog, so please do so!!!

I don't really have any comments on this because I'm starting over from zero on the long-fic of the aquatic monster story bc I hated what I had lmao.

anyway, please keep in mind that is a concept piece. chances are that none of this will be present in the actual long-fic. this just helps me to explore ideas and familiarize myself with characters.

#finally got a little down time to read this and OH LAWDY #i love LOVE your descriptive writing #i could picture that cold dark damp room at the bottom of the stairs i got the good shivers #i love the oil lantern its such a nice touch and i wonder with the monster's sensitivity to light does this imply he's a deep sea creature?#i also really love how otherworldly you make the monster feel with your descriptions of him #the scales the strange noises that he makes and his mannerisms it was really exciting to read about him!#also now i want toast and eggs #this was a fantastic read! thank you as always for sharing your amazing work! <3 #jellyrecs

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jellys-compendium · 14 hours

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Tying the Knot

A Vergil x f!Reader Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Summary: To many, Vergil's demonic form is frightening. But to you, it's just as adorable and endearing as the man that lies beneath. Cw: smut, fluff, tender sex, monster sex, knotting, cockwarming, stuffing, teasing, Vergil is touch starved but he will never admit it, Reader is mute, non-traditional 'marriage' proposal Word Count: 1'684 A/n: The saga of fluffy writing for Vergil continues.

The content purr thrumming in Vergil’s chest is so soothing. It’s deep and blissful, lulling your own body to relax and melt into the heat of his own.

Your hands gently caress over Vergil’s body, your soft pliant flesh tracing the jagged and unyielding plates that lie beneath. Vergil’s appearance in this form is formidable, even frightening. But the tender way in which he cradles you in his claws has you softly cooing his praises and pampering his chin and teeth with soft, little pink lipped kisses.

Each and every single one of Vergil’s movements is careful. They are calculated and precisely timed. The hide of his devilish body is strong and sharp in most places, and he knows that with one wrong move he can slice open your fragile flesh with ease.

So, Vergil tempers the wanting. You can feel the itching burn of his hunger twitch beneath the muscles on his body. The passion and desire that swirls and swims through his veins is like an expertly crafted wine—potent and powerful. But Vergil’s will proves to be the victor. He won’t risk harming you in a fleeting moment of carnal lust.

Still, that doesn’t mean that you’re impervious to impatience.

Gently wiggling your body beneath his, your pussy clenches, and you silently groan, drawing in breath as the engorged and throbbing knot inside you presses harder against your g-spot.

Vergil tenses, a warning little growl catches in his exhaled breath as his grip on your hips tightens.

“Be still.” His words are strained, but his tone is soft and gentle even with its demonic trill.

You smile, a wordless “sorry” in your eyes as your lips press into a thin line. The giggle you try to suppress writhes in your chest, and Vergil feels it. If he could frown in this form, you imagine that he would.

“You’re laughing.” He accuses.

Being cradled by the pillow, you shake your head as best you can. But the voiceless dance of air that tumbles past your smiling lips betrays you.

‘Sorry.’ You sign. ‘Just a little impatient for the next round.’

Vergil sighs, and you hear shifting along the sheets. A gentle pressure circles around your waist, and you look down to see that the culprit is Vergil’s tail.

“Insatiable little succubus, aren’t you?”

You smile, pressing another little kiss to where you imagine his nose might be if he were in his human form.

‘Look who’s talking. It better not be the demon who’s locked his cock inside me for the third time tonight.’

Vergil snorts, rolling his glowing blue eyes at your response. You reach up to spoil him with more kisses all while running your hands over his wings, his back, his horns. Vergil’s hypnotic purring gets louder with each part of him you worship.

He really does love to be touched. By you, specifically. Every time your fingers seek him out, he’s always leaning his body towards yours. If the two of you are in the company of others it’s quite subtle, but the moment it's just you and him behind closed doors, it becomes so adorably obvious.

Like a cat, Vergil basks in the softness of your touch, arching against your fingers while pulling you deeper into his embrace. And while Vergil still does retain his stiff and standoffish demeanor most of the time (even with you), it’s tender little moments like this where you can peer behind the curtain and bask in the gentle warmth of his tender heart. He really is a big sensitive softy. With the soul of a poet to boot.

“Have you had your fun?” Vergil’s mouth opens and his long blue tongue slides out from between his sharp fangs to tenderly lap at your cheek.

Exhaling wistfully your own satisfaction, you nod.

‘I have. But I won’t object to one more round.’

Vergil’s amused chuckle fills the air as your brows wiggle. Your teasing fingers make their way down to the place where the two of you are connected. As you touch him, the comforting purr in Vergil’s chest intensifies—the vibrations traveling all the way down to where he has you knotted.

Your jaw slacks as a spark of pleasure ignites a new fire in your core. With hips arching further up to grind yourself against him, you bite your lip before pulling your hand back to massage your neglected clit.

Vergil growls, eyes fixating on where your fingers toy.

Then abruptly, the half-demon ends your play. With a heavy groan Vergil takes both your hands into his own, entwining your fingers as he brings them to his mouth, licking the remnants of both of your fluids from your digits.

His sigh of rapture sends another pang of heat flowing through you. And when Vergil looks at you, the demonic glow of his eyes holds within them all the tenderness in the world.

“You are so precious to me.”

Vergil’s words are so soft—whisper quiet—like they are a secret to the very air itself. But to you they may as well have been screamed in your ear. Your eyes widen and your heart nearly stops in your chest as Vergil looks down at you. There is the slightest tremor to his breaths now.

Then his hands release yours and using the words you had taught him, he clumsily signs.

‘Stay here with me.’

Then, he points to his heart.

You’re dumbfounded, staring at the half-demon above you with utter awe as your heart and mind tries to process what you had just seen. Vergil stares silently back at you, patient as he allows you to ponder your response. He never rushes you. He is never demanding of the beautiful words you craft into the air.

But you find yourself rushing at this moment. Rushing to tell him exactly how you feel. Neither you nor Vergil had been very good at communicating your feelings in life, but now —in this private little moment—it feels totally effortless.

Happy little tears spring in your eyes, and you smile, reaching up to wipe them away with one hand as you sign with the other.

‘Always.’

And Vergil purrs happily, leaning down to take you in his arms. You wrap him in your embrace too, pressing kisses to his face. But your pampering is cut short, as Vergil takes hold of your waist and shifts his hips away, slowly pulling and popping his knot out of you.

A pathetic little whine escapes your throat as Vergil pulls out. Losing the feeling of his hot cock throbbing inside you makes you feel so lonely and empty.

“Shhh,” Vergil hushes, clawed fingers moving down to capture and cup your ass. You gasp as Vergil hoists you up, placing you prettily upright and in the crux of his lap, dangling you just above the glistening cock still covered in your arousal and his cum.

Gosh, he’s still so hard and throbbing like he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes nestled deep inside you.

Lowering you down gently, the head of Vergil’s cock presses against your swollen folds, then strokes from your clit to your entrance.

Your hands land upon his shoulders, steadying yourself as you sigh and peg him with a pleading look.

‘Please. Don’t tease me.’ You mouth.

Vergil nods, nestling his cockhead at your twitching entrance. He pauses for a heartbeat, then two, before he slowly slides you all the way down to his knot.

You gasp in pleasure as you’re filled anew, pressing your lips to his teeth as you melt into his arms. Vergil hums, snaking that long demonic tongue into your awaiting mouth with rapture—the only way the two of you can kiss while he is in this form.

You suck on his tongue, relishing in his taste and how he trembles as you clench your pussy around his cock. Coaxing him and milking him, grinding against him as you beg him with each sensual movement of your body.

And Vergil is more than eager to oblige.

The thrusting starts slow as Vergil eases himself in and out of your sopping pussy. There’s not an ounce of hurry in his movements. Instead, he frees his tongue from your mouth and moans—the demonic trill he releases sending shivers all along your skin as he savors every fleshy inch of your insides with his cock.

“So sweet,” Vergil softly pants. “No matter how many times…”

You want to tell him that you feel the same way, but your hands are currently busy gripping for dear life against his armored shoulders. So instead, you press a tender little kiss to his forehead, and Vergil understands.

The two of you writhe and thrust and pant, clutching one another with loving and desperate hands as Vergil pounds into your cunt. The wet slap of your skin against his and the desperate little breathless sounds from both of your mouths send the two of you into a frenzy. Rutting against the other as you both seek that blissful release.

It’s not long before you’re coming on Vergil’s cock, and he groans with pleasure, stilling as your pussy pulses and grips his monstrous girth like a vice.

“Let me knot you,” Vergil gasps, voice strained as he fights off his own climax.

“Please.”

You nod desperately, tears of pleasure staining your lashes as you work yourself down on his knot, trying to take it yourself but knowing that you’ll need his help to do so.

And with one forceful push, Vergil stuffs his knot inside you, tearing a voiceless cry from your throat as you wrap your arms around his neck—both of your bodies quivering as Vergil fills you to the brim and then some.

Vergil moans softly as he succumbs to his own pleasure, holding you tight as he pumps you full of his cum. He wishes that he could stay right here, inside you and on this bed forever. But Vergil has lived long enough to know that such moments are fleeting, and to savour every second while he can.

He’ll treasure you—his little muse—until the day that he dies.

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#soft vergil my beloved 💖#gonna have another fluffy sfw little fic featuring vergil x mute reader coming soon!#jellywrites

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