Work Text:
==> Be the scalemate
The squiddle lands last in the pile, and you sniff the air approvingly. “hehehe! Now that we’re all here, the proceedings can commence!”
A faint honk comes from behind you.
“motherfucking hell, finally. I’m already horny enough as is.”
Snickering from the squiddle. Faintly muted - why?
Oh.
Damn, they move fast.
The lime green squiddle already has her kawaii moe face buried in the plush rump of the C4NDY R3D D3L1C1OUS smuppet, who looks mildly uncomfortable. He clears his throat.
“Your honour, objection. This better not be met with rejection. I’m perfectly chill with this love nest, but with all the other smuppets around this feels kind of like… incest?”
You observe your surroundings with emotionless button eyes, before withdrawing a piece of chalk from your stuffed bowels and writing in bold red letters that VOY3UR1SM 1S 4 CR1M3 4ND JUST1C3 W1LL B3 S3RV3D!!!
Perversely interested smuppet eyes from the pile lose their animation and became once more dead to the world.
“How’s that?” you ask the one remaining smuppet.
You are replied with silence, then a series of pleased honks and giggling. Apparently, the squiddle is doing her best to tangle her tentacles with the horn, and the smuppet is rather enjoying the show.
“Come on, scaley! Be a buddy and come tangle with us!”
Well. You can’t say no to an offer like that, especially since it was what you four had come together for. You shuffle over, nudging your snout with the conveniently curved nose of the smuppet. It makes a noise of dissent.
Is it seriously trying to act cool at a time like this? You cannot believe it.
Time to change tactics. You snuggle your head into the over-large rump of the smuppet, barely sparing a moment to appreciate its plumpness, before shoving the smuppet forward toward the tangle of squiddle and horn.
Oops.
You accidentally shove the head of the smuppet between a few of the squiddle’s grasping tentacles. You move to apologise, but before you can do so, the squiddle makes a pleased squeal.
Oh wow.
You are the kink master.
It is you.
The horn is honking seductively at you now, and you absolutely cannot resist from partaking in this depravity. You scoot closer to the horn, allowing the soft bursts of air from its honks to caress your soft underbelly. Lulled by the comfort, you slowly begin to zone out.
That is, until a tendril weaves its way up your tail, massaging it lovingly…while pulling you away from the horn. You huff, displeased, but you can’t bring yourself to get annoyed at the squiddle at all, now that she’s drawing you into her fuzzy, inviting mess of tentacles.
Whoa. Squiddles have FAR more tentacles than they appear to have.
You extend your tongue out, recalling that the deliciously coloured smuppet must be somewhere near the tentacles as well. Instead of plush rump or nose, your tongue meets with the side of the squiddle’s face.
“That tickles! Do that again!” it giggles, and you gladly oblige. After all, the taste of tangy lemon isn’t bad at all.
Speaking of taste…that brings you to more important matters: where is the scrumptious smuppet? You reach out a clawed hand, just barely catching on the end of the rounded side of the soft body of the smuppet.
Aha!
There it is, with its delightfully phallic nose shoved up into the bell of the horn. Giving the squiddle another lick, you gently claw the smuppet’s side.
He jerks, and the horn releases a loud HONK.
You freeze.
...
“STRIDER JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU HAVE IN THAT PILE?”
“dunno man”
Crap. Busted again.