#Modern Monsters Au

[caycanteven]

Milo's Official reference sheet~

[sibmakesart]

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Steve knows the kids are obsessed with the newest up and coming metal band, Corroded Coffin, even though their music is actually terrible. But when Robin of all people begs Steve take them to the band's next gig, he relents.

Everything starts to make a lot more sense when they walk up to the stage and there's an honest to god Siren behind the microphone, a guitar slung low on his hips with magic wafting off him in waves over the crowd.

The singer clocks him immediately and quickly schools the flash of surprise in his eyes into something more flirtatious.

Steve smiles, the cat that caught the canary. He was right. Their music really does suck, and he can't wait until tomorrow when he can rub it in his tiny human friends' faces.

Tonight, however, he's going to ruffle a pretty boy's feathers.

~~~

Eddie knows his music's horse shit, tailor made for humans- sue him, they needed the money. So he's always a little surprised when another creature finds their way to his concerts. It happens on occasion, and of course they're always welcomed. He's seen all sorts on their tour.

But something as beautifully unholy as a Nephilim?

The man with the auburn hair and hazel eyes surrounded by a gaggle of children glows with a golden aura so soft and warm Eddie's almost left speechless. Almost.

He's caught staring, but he can't take his eyes away. So Eddie does what Sirens do best. He preens, puffs his sleek black feathers just enough for only the man in the crowd to see and sings. A move typically saved for encores, the crowd goes wild with energy and pushes their way towards the stage.

The Nephi laughs, full-bodied with mirth at the antics. A beacon of golden light bursts from him, control of his halo slipping just the slightest.

It's unearthly, it's sinful, and Eddie falls to his knees in worship. The men and women caught in the halo turn to him, smiling and leaning in and touching what is Eddie's--

But the Angel relaxes, the halo draws back, and the peoples' hands fall away even though their eyes linger.

None of that matters when the Angel blows him a kiss. Eddie knows, deep in the hollows of his bones, that when he finds him after the show, he'll stretch his Angel's wings and show him just how bright his halo can glow.

[princeguri66]

Insspired by @/bluegiragi's monster 141 au, the hc that Price has lived for centuries due to being a dragon hybrid (I'm not sure where it started but I got the idea from @/thegnomelord) , and this twt thread

[just-bendy]

[gremlinmodetweeker]

I know mermay is way over and you probably moved on from this, but @all-purpose-dish-soap I drew some fanart of König as an orca mer.

I figured he is probably a bit of an outcast from his pod, and not even bachelor pods deal with him. He's a bit desperate for company, seeing as he's an extremely social animal, so to try and make others more at ease he wears a seaweed hood (also uses the hood to hide from other orca bullies).

I think the way to nerf orca!König is to give him crippling social anxiety and make him surprisingly gentle with reader (when reader proves they're too feisty to eat). He might see the 141 as easy snacks, but doesn't eat them because reader would hate him, and he doesn't want his only friend to turn on him.

NSFW below cut

Btw think about how massive he is compared to reader? Good lord. He'd split them in two if he wasn't careful. I can imagine he would be especially gentle with reader and get pissed about how big he is, but reader is just fawning over him.

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

[diejager]

I know I already sent you an ask but could I get something for monster!141? Specifically Dragon!Price? Sorry for asking again but I love price and your writing!

Dragon Heart

Pairing: Dragon!John Price x fem!reader

Cw: knot, breeding kink, creampie, smut, fluff, morning sex, implied somnophilia, slow sex, romantic sex, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.7k

You knew dragons ran hot, their bodies powered by the kindled fire in their hearts, breathing smoke and fire with every breath they took. European dragons were creatures synonymous with fire, the powerful blaze that humans coveted for warmth, protection and destruction, but Price was all but the latter with his ragtag group. You once thought that Soap - sweet, rambunctious Johnny - ran the hottest, his body exhuming heat in plumes of vapours, his body exhausting itself from rapid muscle growth. Now you knew better, nothing burned more than a dragon itself, his heart pulsing in powerful waves, warm and soothing, his body warmed by the will of fire that thrived within him. You felt it all, his body calling to yours, naked under the sheets of his bed, cradling his face between your arms after your nightly activities that would follow in the morning —a promise he whispered on your lips. 

You woke up to his soft kisses, severing his mark on your body just as his hands did on your wrists, and the rough scruff of his beard, tickling your cheek and throat as he moved down. He was hard between his thick thighs, the flushed head of his cock pushing inside you in a slow roll of his hips, your slick walls stretching around his girth. Price liked waking you up with slow and gentle sex, watching your eyes crack open while they rolled back and lips cracked open to let out a few sleepy mewls, feeling him fill you up. There was something in being woken up with Price inside of you on slow mornings, to feel the warmth of his body pressing you into the bed, soft sheets hugging you, and the heaviness of his cock, carving the shape of it inside you. 

Mornings like these were full of love and affection, unhurried pleasure and gentle caresses. Price - John, you called him behind closed doors - was a devoted lover, giving you much more than he received, finding pleasure in giving rather than receiving. He was a firm, but kind hand, soft but guiding, he took the reins and watched you unravel beneath him —much like a flower blooming, petals unfurling into the prettiest blossom he knew. Price was a strong lover, caring for you through anything with strong conviction, grounding in anything he ventured into, a strong hand reminding Ghost that you were here for him, a gentle hand grounding Gaz from his slight fears, a firm hand keeping Soap in check, and a protective hand holding you close. He was everything and nothing at the same time. He gave and never asked for more, taking what was given to him with a smile and warming eyes. 

While you liked the moments of shared animosity, clawing and biting at him, pressing him down on his desk and riding the life out of his cock, milking him for all his worth while he grasped and bucked into you, holding you captive under his burning gaze; you cherished these moments of domesticity, where he was neither captain nor were you his corporal. You weren’t restrained by duty or regulations, you simply held one another out of passion, one that had his heart soar and yours skip a beat. You loved him, you knew you did as much as he did, and he loved you so much that it hurt his old heart. He whispered your name, pressing his lips against yours, a soft and sensual act drawn out in lazy mornings and passionate gazes —he never failed to look you in the eyes when he expressed himself, telling you how much he cared and how much he would give for any one of you. 

“Love you, John,” you gasped, hips bucked up, searching for his cock to hit a certain spot inside of you, the gummy part of you that made you cry and mewl. “I love you.”

His kiss tasted like cigar and smoke, a woody taste similar to Ghost’s earthy bourbon, but Price’s was more powerful, a distinct taste of him. It laid heavy with love, it clung to you with such boiling joy that you smiled, eyes closed. Your fingers found his spine, the curve that went up to his singular wing, a vestige of an accident that left him crippled in the air, you pressed down, hitting a knot while he fucked into you at a steady pace. He groaned, his pace stuttering, jerkily bottoming out, his balls flush against your ass and his wild pubic hair scratching your throbbing clit. He shuddered and you knew he liked it, the relief it gave him when you pressed a certain knot in his back, the one that released tension and gave him more leeway to move about freely and without restraint. It was your way to give back when he wouldn’t take.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped, brows furrowed and blinking away the daze you put him in, having his cock milked and his back popped felt amazing, the immediate relief painted on his face, “You’re a blessing.”

He felt like a blessing to you, his heart, his body, his mind, and everything about him was a blessing to you and his team. A gifting dragon to his hoard, keeping and protecting what belonged to him. Words wouldn’t be enough for you to show him how much you appreciate him, you used acts, favours and everything you had to show it to him. Whether it be a sudden kiss on his lips that brought a smile on his face, the skin under his eyes wrinkling from how happy he looked, or the massages you gave him, unwinding all the tension in his body after a hard mission, hearing his pleasured groan and his struggle to stay still, to stop himself from snatching you up and give you all the love he deemed you worthy of.

You murmured confessions, praises directed at his character rather than his duty, proclaiming little whispers of love. You raked your nails down his back, fleetingly touching the base of his tail, thick and robust, curled around your leg, holding it over his hip for deeper penetration, the rounded head of his cock kissing your cervix despite your prone position —a vanilla morning sex in missionary. Your hands slipped under his arm, roving over his hairy chest and pinching his perky nipples, rolling the rounded nubs between your thumb and index. You felt him twitch, a soft moan leaving his swollen lips, still kissing you with feverish need. His nipples were sensitive, especially in the mornings when his body reacted much more than at night, he’d succumb to your little tease, jerkily thrusting into you. Every drive of his cock thickened the ring of white around his cock, the ribbed girth of it catching the edge of your cunt when he pulled out, bringing you mind-numbing ecstasy. 

You could feel the coil in your core tightening, the unwinding pleasure that followed the first spasm, walls clinging onto him. You let out a shuddered breath, feeling the ribs rubbing your sweet spot and his leaky cock throb against your cervix. Slick oozed out of your hole with each thrust, the motion pushing out yesterday’s load, cream jostled out of you, squeezed around his shaft. 

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” he groaned, bowing his head over your shoulders, his breath hot and mouth nipping at your skin, threatening to sink his teeth and mark you for the others to see, for them to strew in jealousy that he had you all night long and the following morning. He spoiled and cared for you. “I want to hear you moan.”

Moan, you did, thighs tensing when your fingers circled your swollen clit, rolling the twitching nerve in rapid motions. You breathed laboriously, panting and gasping into his ear, mewling his name with teary and burning eyes, rolling back from pleasure and the thin veil of grey smoke that rose from his lips. It smelled like cedar, a smoky incense mixed with the natural scent of cedar and his strong cigars, a soothing and bitter smell. It drove you off the edge, his smell, his warmth, his body, and his voice sent you careening over the precipice of your pleasure, an explosive fire blinding you in white light, stars dancing around your sight as you clung to him. Your walls gripped in him a vice, clenching down on his cock and hand stuttering on your clit, the bundle of nerves sensitive and slick. 

He was sloppy, growling out praises, telling you how good you were for coming for him, confessing how he lived to bring you over the brink of relief and much farther, and mumbling how he’d ruin himself for you. It was wet and messy, he came with a single buck, snapping into you, his green-tinted balls slapping your ass wetly, and bottoming out, his knot catching and inflating with a deep groan. Hot cum filled you, ropes of potent semen shooting out of his red tip, engorged and throbbing against your gummy cervix. You felt like you’d bloat from how much he was spewing, imagining the bump of cock and cum under your skin, poking out in an erotic sight.

His back slumped over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him, face pressed under his chin and his wing covering you. You listened to his purr, a low sound meant to comfort you after sex or any other straining activity —similarly to a cat showing its joy and pleasure. Price always cuddled you while waiting out his knot, pressing his burning body against yours and spoiling you with words and kisses. His knot comfortably seated inside of you, keeping his load from going to waste, preventing his fertility from leaking out of you like the faucet-like jet of his tip, he murmured into your hair, nosing the few strands that clung to your forehead and kissed you deeply. You kissed back, fingers carding through his beard and bushy hair, nails scratching his scalp, being careful of his sensitive horns. 

“We have the day off, darling,” Price smiled conspiringly, blazing, amber eyes brimming with mirth, “Reckon we stay in bed a while longer?”

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-222 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @virginalsacrifice @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @kaelysia @mixplara @notspiders

[sketchygabz]

Modern Sir Knight and Master~

[moeitsu]

The Dark Tide Siren!Arthur Morgan x Reader Modern AU Ch 9 - The Point Of No Return Summary: You choose to spend the night with Arthur, seeking warmth and solace in each other's arms as the storm rages outside. But as the night deepens, so does the pull between you, an unstoppable tide of desire that neither of you can no longer resist. wc: 19.7k (good god) tw: NSFW 18+, minors DNI. More under the cut. There is so many, its diabolical. Swim Back! ↞ ﹏𓊝﹏ ↠ Sail Ahead!

AN: Surprise, I said I would post this tomorrow but I actually finished it early! Oh boy, here we go. I am so out of touch with reality, touching grass is not nearly enough. Cheers!

tag list: @photo1030 @v3lv3tf0x @ireallyhonestlydontcare @shygamergirl01 @cloudywithachanceofcrisis @sevikaspuertoricanwife @abducted-cowz @ilovethatforyousworld @gatodebiquini @onyxlune @misosoup1001 @sarah-heyes @kindadolly @atticssmellgood @bomdada

tw: pwp. monster genitalia. two cocks. oral!both recieving. p in v, no protection. breeding kink. creampies. anal. double penetration. overstimulation. biting. primal mating instincts. dirty talk. slight pain kink. That about covers it!

I was done fighting this—done pretending my body didn’t crave him, that my soul wasn’t drawn to his like the tide to the moon. We were two creatures who should never have found each other, never have touched, never have felt this unbearable pull. 

I am human. Arthur is… not. Half-man, half-siren—a being my people dismissed as myths, whispered as warnings, something both beautiful and terrible, born of the abyss.

But he wasn’t a nightmare to me. He was a promise. One wrapped in the shimmer of a pearl, in the memory of his lips and tongue claiming me as if I already belonged to him.

I was so afraid that if I spoke one more word I’d blurt out that I was in love with him. And that was insane. I wanted to ask—did he feel it too? Could sirens even feel love? Or was this just instinct, some primal need woven into his nature? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure I cared. Not when his hand slid lower, heat blooming beneath my skin where his palm lingered, leaving a fire that only he could quench.

Tonight, one way or another, I would give myself to him. I would let him take me, claim me, drown me in the depths of whatever this was. And gods help me, I was ready to beg for it.

I had no idea what it meant to be his mate. Was I about to make a terrible mistake?

Those thoughts shattered the moment his thumb grazed over my hardened nipple, slow and deliberate, as if testing how much I could take. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.

With his chest flush against my back, the storm outside raged on, wind howling, rain battering the facility’s walls—but it was nothing compared to the storm unraveling between us. The heat of his body seeped through my clothes, igniting every nerve in my skin. A soft, breathless moan escaped my lips as he rolled the sensitive peak between his fingers, and I felt the warm rush of air from his gills, a shuddering exhale against my shoulder, like he was sighing in bliss.

“You’re sensitive here,” Arthur murmured, his voice thick with quiet reverence, as if he was making some careful observation rather than teasing me to the edge of madness.

I nodded, arching ever so slightly, seeking more. “Yes… I am.” The words came out uneven, little more than a whisper, but he hummed in response, a pleased, knowing sound that sent a thrill through my belly.

The barrier of my clothing was unbearable, tormenting, and I silently pleaded for him to tear it away—to rid me of anything that kept his skin from mine. But Arthur, ever patient, took his time. One hand continued its torturous attention to my breasts, rolling and pinching the stiffened peaks, while the other drifted lower, tracing slow, teasing circles over my stomach. Each movement burned, his webbed fingers barely skimming the waistband of my pants, making me tremble with anticipation.

I rocked my hips forward, a silent plea, urging him to touch me where I ached the most. Instead, Arthur leaned in, his lips grazing the curve of my throat, warm breath fanning against my skin before his teeth ghosted over the pulse hammering beneath. The first pass of his tongue sent shivers through me, a slow, sinuous lick that left a trail of heat in its wake. I moaned, tilting my head, offering him more, and he took it—pressing his mouth to the column of my throat, drinking in every quiver, every shudder.

He could taste it, I realized. The need thrumming through me, the way my body betrayed me with every ragged breath, every rapid beat of my heart. Sirens could sense desire—could drown themselves in it. And Arthur… Arthur was reveling in it.

He pinched my nipple again, rougher this time, sending another wave of pleasure spiraling through me. My hips jerked, seeking friction, and before I could stop myself, I reached up. My fingers tangled in the damp hair at the base of his skull, clutching him to me. A deep, rumbling growl of pleasure vibrated against my skin, his grip tightening as his body rocked into mine.

There was no denying it now. The proof of his own need pressed against me, hard and insistent beneath his scales. His breathing had turned heavier, rougher, lips still tracing along my throat, tasting, savoring, claiming.

We were both unraveling, caught in the storm we had no hope of escaping.

Spreading his fingers wide, he finally dipped below my waistband, and my breath stilled, caught somewhere between anticipation and desperation. His touch was torturously slow as he explored lower, gliding through the dark curls before slipping into the slick heat waiting for him. My body welcomed him eagerly, a moan tumbling from my lips, raw and pleading.

Arthur hissed out a long, shuddering breath against my ear, the sound vibrating through me. His fingers flexed, carefully angling to keep his claws from scraping my sensitive skin, moving with a gentleness that made my chest ache. He explored me as if I were something sacred, something fragile despite the hunger in his touch. I arched into him, seeking more, but his palm remained just out of reach. Teasing. Testing. My frustration curled into something hotter, needier.

The webs between his fingers pressed into me, creating delicious ridges that dragged against my throbbing core. Every slow, gliding stroke sent a pulse of heat rolling through my spine. Fuck. It felt so good. So devastatingly good.

“My girl,” he growled, his voice molten, so deep and low that it settled in my bones. “You are wet… and so soft.”

The way he bit out that last word, rough and devout, sent a thrill down my spine. A whimper left my throat before I could stop it.

Arthur pressed his lips against the shell of my ear. ���Move your hips for me, pretty girl. I want to watch you ride my hand.”

Something inside me shattered. A new sound spilled from me—a mix between a cry and a whimper, need unraveling into something desperate. Leaning back against him, I let my body move like a wave, rolling into his touch. Each slow, purposeful grind against his fingers had heat licking up my spine, my moans growing softer, breathier. I bit my lip, trying to stifle the sounds, but fuck—he felt perfect.

I opened my eyes, my vision hazy, only to be met with Arthur’s gaze—those dark, endless pools drinking me in as his hand disappeared between my thighs. His lips curled, tongue darting out as if he could taste every slick, needy sound filling the space between us. His pupils flared, hunger darkening his expression.

Arthur leaned in, voice barely more than a whisper. “Close your eyes… just feel.”

A shudder ripped through me at the command, his voice dripping with something possessive, something all-consuming.

My cheeks burned, heat licking up my neck as my breath turned frantic, every exhale breaking into little gasps. I changed my rhythm, rolling my hips faster, pressing harder, chasing that rising heat curling tight in my core. The tension coiled, winding itself into something unbearable—until it snapped.

Pleasure crashed over me like a wave, thighs shaking as I shattered around him. A long, drawn-out moan broke free from my lips, my body trembling, muscles clenching around the fingers still stroking me through it.

Arthur held me close, one hand slipping up to cup my chin, tilting my face toward his. His lips found mine in a kiss that was slow, claiming, fervent.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against my mouth. His voice was hoarse, filled with something deeper than lust. “You come so pretty, my girl.”

Drawing his fingers out, I caught the glistening evidence of my desire illuminated in the soft, pulsing glow of his bioluminescence. My breath hitched as I watched, completely entranced, while he brought his fingers to his mouth, those dark lips parting just enough for that inky blue tongue to flick out. He sucked his fingers in slowly, deliberately, his tongue lapping at his palm with a deep, indulgent hum. The ridges along the surface of it caught my attention, my mind spiraling with the thought of how they might feel dragging over my skin, exploring every inch of me.

It must feel incredible.

Arthur's gills flared wide, both at his neck and ribs, revealing the delicate, pink membranes hidden within. A shudder rolled through his body, his exhale coming out as something primal, something utterly unrestrained.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growled, his voice a low, reverberating thing that seemed to vibrate through my core, settling deep between my legs. “Whatever this is, I wish to coat myself in it.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat crawling up my spine, setting my skin ablaze with anticipation. And then, finally, his hands were on me again—frantic, needy—tugging at my clothes as though they were the only thing keeping him from fully devouring me. His fingers trembled slightly as they pulled at the fabric, urgency seeping into every movement.

Like I might vanish with the wind.

He yanked at my top, and I lifted my arms to help him, the garment disappearing in one swift motion. But my pants proved more of an ordeal—my legs shook as I tried to help, my body already weakened from his touch. Arthur let out a soft growl, impatience flashing across his face before he took control. His large hands wrapped around my calf, spinning me effortlessly toward him. My breath left me in a rush as he dragged my pants and underwear down in one fluid motion, the brush of his fingertips sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through me.

Then he tossed them aside, forgotten.

For the first time, I stood completely bare before him. The heavy humid air kissed my overheated skin, briefly cooling the sweat that clung to me, but I barely noticed. My entire world had narrowed to the man in front of me, to the way his glowing skin reflected off the curves of my body, making me feel like something otherworldly myself.

Arthur drank me in, his gaze searing and hungry. Barely contained restraint coiled through his muscles, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might snap.

I should be afraid. A small, distant voice in my head whispered that I should tell him to stop. That I was standing before something not entirely human, something born from myth, from nightmares.

But I wasn’t afraid.

Somewhere deep inside me, I knew he would be gentle. That he would take his time before fully claiming me.

And all at once, I wanted to know him. To explore him. And to be explored. I had a feeling Arthur wanted the same thing. 

"Teach me how humans mate," Arthur spoke, his voice rough, the words clawing up his throat like he was trying—desperately—to hold himself back.

I faced him fully now, shuffling forward on my knees, closing the space between us until my breasts nearly brushed against his chest. His breathing was uneven, ragged, his gills flaring open as though he couldn’t quite get enough air. I tried to keep my focus locked onto his face, not letting my gaze drift too low—to where his human torso met the shimmering scales of his tail. That junction between two worlds, two forms.

Instead, I leaned in, close enough that the delicate fins near where his ear would be quivered from my breath.

"Remember when I said humans like to kiss everywhere?" I asked, voice soft, teasing.

Arthur nodded, the movement stiff, restrained. Something inside me thrilled at the way he held himself so still, at the way his body hummed with tension just beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the moment to strike.

A rush of boldness overtook me, a primal instinct answering his own. Slowly, I lifted one knee over his lap, straddling him fully, my weight settling onto the powerful expanse of his tail. The moment our bodies met, slick against slick, his breath hitched. He was wet—just as wet as I was—and that realization sent a spark of heat raging through me, settling low in my stomach.

I felt my lips brush against the sensitive seam of his mating slit, the place where he was still keeping himself hidden from me. Not yet, his body seemed to say. Not until he was ready. But he felt me there, pressing against that heat, and his whole frame went rigid beneath me.

Like he was unsure what to do next.

I let my full weight sink down on him, savoring the way his hands flexed against me, how his fingers twitched at my waist like he was trying to memorize the feel of me. Reaching for one of those broad, webbed hands, I guided it to my breast, shivering as he cupped me with a gentleness that made my stomach tighten. His fingers squeezed—tentative at first, then firmer as he felt my body respond to his touch.

"Well..." I exhaled, breathless, eyes fluttering shut as a slow, aching warmth spread through my core. "Kiss me wherever you like."

A sharp sound tore from his throat, somewhere between a growl and a sigh, his fingers spasming at my waist. Then he moved—instinct taking over—his head dipping low as he pressed a lazy, weighted lick over the curve of my breast.

Heat flashed through me, my back bowing as a startled hiss escaped my lips. Arthur didn’t stop. His tongue, ridged and hot, dragged over my nipple in a long, sweeping stroke, the sensation nearly overwhelming. The growl that rumbled against my skin only made the coil inside me tighten further.

Gods above.

His mouth—that mouth—latched onto me, his lips sealing over the sensitive bud, sucking, tasting, devouring. His tongue flicked, his sharp teeth grazing my skin without breaking it, just a whisper of danger curling at the edges of pleasure.

I arched against him, hands flying to his head, fingers digging into the thick, damp strands of his hair as I held him there, desperate for more. Arthur made a sound of approval, the vibrations rippling straight through me, and then his other hand traced up my spine, urging me to lean back, offering myself to him.

And I did.

I let him hold me open, let my body stretch and bend for him. And as I shifted, as my hips rolled forward, I felt it—something new.

Instead of the firm, smooth ridges of his finger webs, this time, I met something softer. Something slick and hot and pulsing. My clit rubbed against his, throbbing and oh so sensitive. The folds of his slit pressed against me, and I realized—our bodies were kissing in more ways than one.

But fuck, those ridges.

They were so distracting, so different—so much a reminder that he was not a human man. And yet, that only fueled my hunger, my need to know him, to understand every foreign, exquisite part of him. I wanted to know every difference. Every inch. Every piece that set him apart.

I dragged my nails down the back of his neck, tracing the delicate, bioluminescent patterns there, feeling the warmth of his blood pulsing just beneath the surface. The tremor that coursed through him at my touch. And beneath me—gods—I could feel the steady, pulsing rhythm of his twin heartbeats against my clit, where we met, where our heat mixed and tangled. A rhythm that felt dangerously in sync with my own.

A deep, guttural growl erupted from his chest, vibrating through my skin, making my stomach tighten with longing. The sound was primal, possessive, a predator reveling in his claim.

I wanted him to lose control. Wanted to feel him shatter against me.

Then there was a sharp nip.

Arthurs lips left my breast, only for his sharp teeth to close over my nipple in a teasing bite. I gasped, a quick, startled sound, pleasure tinged with the faintest sting—until his tongue was there, soothing, laving over the mark with slow, languid strokes. My head tipped back, spine curving as I let myself feel it. The wet heat, the soft scrape of ridges. 

Those iridescent threads. His mark.

He pulled back, his eyes locked onto my chest, staring at where his mouth had been. Something primal flashed across his features, a mix of pride and possession.

Following his gaze, I looked down. Beautiful, glimmering strands of his touch radiated from my nipple, delicate yet meticulous. The patterns mirrored those that lined his tail—intricate, artistic, like brushstrokes from a painter’s hand.

I shuddered. He was painting me. Claiming me.

“I like it,” I whispered, voice breathy, tinged with wonder. “I like knowing that you were here.”

And I did. Gods help me, I really did.

The thought of his marks hidden beneath my clothes—just like the ones on my ear, little pinpricks of salt-laced pain—it thrilled me. A reminder that I was taking something ancient, something untamed, to my bed. Arthur wasn’t human, and that truth only made me crave him more. And he would take me exactly how he wanted.

Arthur’s smile stretched across his face, soft at the edges but smoldering in the center. It was slow and devastating. His eyes crinkled as he licked his lips—as if he could still taste me there.

“I lose myself when you touch me, my love.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me.”

His hands slid up my thighs, fingers lingering, exploring, memorizing. Then, with effortless strength, he pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around my back as he carried me with him into the water.

The coolness rushed over me in a stark contrast to the feverish heat we had built between us, and I gasped as the sensation sent goosebumps erupting across my skin.

"I want to savor you," Arthur murmured, voice like a promise against my lips. "Not rush this."

I shuddered at the promise in his voice. “Good. Then we’re in agreement.”

Leaning up, I let my tongue glide from his lips to his throat and then gills, feeling his skin twitch beneath the touch. The reaction was instant, involuntarily. A shudder wracked through him, his gills flaring wide, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my ass with a bruising grip.

A pleased growl rumbled from his chest, deep and low. “Gods, you are so fucking perfect.”

And then he sealed his mouth over mine once again. The moment I breathed him in, he pulled me under.

The water enveloped us in a cool, silken embrace, the world above dissolving into muted ripples. My senses sharpened—the strength of his arms around me, the steady thrumming of his twin heartbeats against my chest, the way his body fit against mine as if molded by the sea itself. His lips never left mine, coaxing, devouring, claiming.

Beneath the water, we moved as one, our bodies shifting, adjusting, discovering. Fingers tracing, mouths tasting, breaths mingling in the space between us.

I opened my eyes, finding his already watching me. And in that endless, glowing blue, I saw it—the hunger, the awe, the reverence.

This was no simple act of desire. Arthur wasn’t just taking me. He was drowning in me. 

And gods help me, I wanted to drown with him.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

Moving quickly through the tank, I had little time to process exactly where Arthur was taking me. The water, dark and thick, swirled around us, alive with hidden movement. 

I closed my eyes, leaning in closer, tucking my head under Arthur's chin as he guided us effortlessly through the darkness. Trusting him, every inch of me surrendering to the rhythm of his movements. There was a strange peace in that—letting go completely, not needing to know where we were headed.

Still, the uncertainty gnawed at the edges of my mind. Was he taking me back to his underwater cave? That dark, secret place where he'd made a nest for himself? It seemed cozy for someone like him, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I would fit into that picture. It was his world, and the thought of mating there instead of making love like humans did felt strangely daunting. It was as if everything about him was alien, untouchable, even though his touch burned through me with a heat I couldn’t escape.

I tried to push the thought aside. I could breathe through him, of course, but the idea of slipping up—of inhaling a lungful of water—sent a sudden pang of fear through me. The panic threatened to pull me out of the moment, to make me pull away, but then I felt him, strong and sure, guiding us deeper.

The faint sound of a lock clicking, followed by the soft hiss of something sliding open, pulled my attention back. What was that? Had he figured out a way to enter different parts of the tank? My thoughts swirled with curiosity, but before I could process it, he pushed us to the surface.

The cool rush of air met my face, and I inhaled deeply, tasting the fresh sea salt on my tongue. I opened my eyes, blinking to adjust to the change in light. It took me a moment, but then it hit me. I recognized the space around us.

We were in the Atlantic seal exhibit—the one at the back of the facility. It was open-air, but sheltered beneath a massive pavilion. The glass walls that surrounded the pool protected the seals from the elements, and the storm outside was beginning to lose its fury.

The seals had been brought inside for safety, their sleek bodies resting in the shallows. The water here was calm, warm, and much shallower than before, and the edges of the pool curved, inviting the seals to rest on the soft dips. It felt almost tranquil, a contrast to the storm that raged just beyond the walls.

But what truly caught my attention, what held me in place for a moment, was the view beyond the glass.

The open ocean stretched out below us, a wild, dark expanse, and the last remnants of the hurricane were fading away. The clouds were parting slowly, leaving behind a blanket of stars, so sharp and vivid they almost seemed too close. The storm’s thunder had quieted to a low rumble in the distance, almost like the earth itself was sighing in relief.

For a fleeting second, it felt as if the world had slowed, as if I could see everything in the universe, all at once, and still—I only wanted him.

Arthur released me from his embrace, and I slowly stepped away, my feet barely reaching the bottom of the pool as I moved toward the glass. The water lapped softly around me, the ripples glistening in the dim light as I knelt on the dip in the pool, pushing myself out of the water. As I did, gooseflesh prickled across my skin, a divergence from the heat that still lingered on me from his touch. 

The ocean breeze, cool and refreshing, swept through me, kissing my flesh like a lover’s soft caress. I closed my eyes and let it wash over, feeling the weight of the storm outside beginning to recede, and I drank in the sensation. The air felt pure, eclectic, a relief from the suffocating humidity of the facility without its air circulation.

I savored the moment, as if the world had paused just for me to take it in.

I felt him before I heard him. Arthur, swimming up behind me, his presence as natural as the water that flowed around us. He joined my side, his movements fluid and effortless. He pushed himself up onto the lip of the pool, his torso settling comfortably on the edge. His gaze, however, was lost, staring beyond the glass, at the endless stretch of ocean and the crashing waves below. 

There was something about the way he looked out at it, a deep, quiet longing that tugged at something inside me. His muscles rippled slightly, his back arched in a way that made the light catch on his skin, revealing the subtle curve of his powerful form.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said, his voice thick and low, full of unspoken emotions, “I’ve been sneakin’ in here after hours to watch the sunrise.”

I glanced up at him, my heart skipping a beat at the way he seemed to blend into the shadows and the soft light, almost as if he were part of the ocean itself. I stood on the dipped edge of the pool, my head barely reaching his chin, and I felt the vulnerability of the moment—the closeness between us, but also the weight of his words.

With gentle hands, I brought his face back to mine, my fingers brushing against the rough stubble of his jaw. I tilted his head just enough to look into his eyes, hoping he could see my sincerity, the quiet plea in my gaze.

“You can go wherever you please, Arthur,” I whispered, my voice soft but certain. “This place,” I swept my arm around the pool, motioning to the space around us, “this facility—it’s not a cage. If you wish to leave, I’ll make it happen.” My throat tightened as I searched for the right words. "I never want you to feel like you're..." I trailed off, knowing it wasn’t as simple as that.

Arthur’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile, but it was his eyes that spoke louder than any words. They told me something far more complicated than just the idea of freedom. They told me about a man torn between the world he was forced to live in and the world he wanted. 

And as much as I wanted to give him everything, to take him away from all this, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. 

I swallowed, feeling the weight of the truth settle in my chest. No matter how I spun it, the truth was clear—he was trapped here, at least for now. The world outside had hurt him too much. The people who had done this to him needed to be held accountable, and I would make sure they were. Whether it was behind bars, or not breathing at all. But for now, we were stuck in this cage together.

Before I could voice any of those tangled thoughts, Arthur’s deep voice, familiar and reassuring, rumbled through me, “I’m right where I want to be, darlin’.”

And in that moment, with the soft crash of the waves and the quiet hum of the night around us, I realized that maybe he was right.

Leaning down, Arthur captured me in another kiss, his lips devouring mine with an urgency that took my breath away. His hands grasped me tightly, pulling me closer, and as I moved, his tail slid between my legs, the strong muscles and smooth scales gliding against my clit. The heat surged back, a sharp contrast to the coolness of the water, as if it had never truly left. I felt the pulse of his presence in every inch of my skin, the weight of him, the intensity of everything that had brought us here.

In this position, Arthur was above me, his body looming like a protective force, a reminder of that first morning we spent together. That day, when I had explored him with nothing but curiosity and a featherlight touch, unsure of what I would find. Now, it was a different kind of exploration, deeper, more intimate. 

My fingers traced down his neck, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath my touch, and then over the delicate curve of his gills. They fluttered under my fingertips like fragile wings, their texture a world of their own. I marveled at how strong and yet so vulnerable they were, the way they moved with his breath, rising and falling in a rhythm that mirrored the twin heartbeats within his chest.

When my hands reached the larger gills on his side, Arthur froze. I could feel his body tense, every muscle going rigid at the lightest touch. I ghosted my fingers over the delicate filaments, and he shuddered beneath me, his breath hitching.

"S-sweetheart," his voice was shaky, strained, "when you touch me like that, it's..."

A giggle escaped my throat, the sound light but filled with an unmistakable thrill. "Sensitive?" I teased, my grin widening as I felt the power of the moment shift in my favor. 

To tease him, to give him a taste of the same pleasure and torment he brought me—it was intoxicating. I rolled my fingers over the silky membrane of his gills, and he let out a choked groan, the sound so raw and vulnerable that it sent a shiver down my spine.

"F-fuck... ngh—y-yes," Arthur hissed, his voice thick with the tension building in his body. His tail lashed through the water, the movement so powerful that it nearly knocked me off my feet. The sensation of his raw need, the way his body writhed under my touch, was almost more than I could bear.

But as much as I reveled in the sight of him undone, overstimulated by the sensation of my fingers on his gills, it wasn't quite what I had in mind. My hands left the sensitive slits, and I felt the heavy release of his breath, a sigh that seemed to escape from deep within his chest. I trailed my fingers lower, shifting my focus, and I watched him closely, never breaking eye contact as I moved.

Arthur, sensing what I intended, leaned back slightly, resting his head against the glass wall that separated us from the open sea. His eyes, dark pools of sapphire, locked onto mine with a trust so intense it made my heart ache. There was so much unspoken between us, so much he allowed me to see of him. And yet, even in this moment, it was clear that his body—his autonomy—was something he gave me, something he allowed me to touch. 

But still never truly owned in its entirety.

As I traced the edge of his mating slit, I saw the vulnerability in him—raw and exposed, a part of him that he rarely let anyone witness. His trust in me was palpable, and with every touch, every movement, I realized just how much of himself he had granted me. The realization settled deep in my chest, a weight that made the moment feel even more intimate, more meaningful. His longing was written all over him, but this was his body, his choice. 

I was still learning, still understanding how much of him was his own, no matter how familiar our bodies felt together. Arthur was not a human man. 

“Is this okay?” I asked softly, the sincerity in my voice offering him the freedom to refuse if he needed it. But the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know—he wasn’t going to pull away.

Arthur’s grin spread wider, his tongue flicking out in a teasing motion, his impatience barely contained. “You know you don’t have to ask, pretty girl.” The wink he shot my way was playful, yet something about it sent a flurry of butterflies through my stomach, a spark of anticipation racing through me.

It wasn’t the answer I’d expected, but it was more than enough—permission granted, clear and everlasting. 

I took a slow breath, letting my fingers hover over his slit for a heartbeat before I let them dance along its edge. The sensation of his heat under my fingertips was exhilarating, and I let my hand slip lower, gliding over the silky smoothness of his need. I coated my fingers with the same arousal I had given his hand earlier, savoring the feeling of him in my touch. He was so wet, and it was all for me.

Arthur’s breathing deepened, the weight of his gasps reverberating through the space between us. His gills flared wide, the movement so primal it almost felt like he was trying to inhale the very air from my lungs. The tension in him was unmistakable.

“Oh, honey,” I cooed, my voice dropping to a soft, earnest tone, a contrast to the simmering heat between us. “I will always ask you first. It’s important for humans to communicate their needs when they mate.” I brushed my middle and ring fingers over his clit, watching as his muscles tensed in response, his body locking up for a brief moment. "You always have a choice. If something doesn’t feel right—or if you just want me to stop—all you have to do is say the word." 

He hissed out a long breath as my fingers teased the entrance, forcing out the words with a low groan. “D-don’t stop.” 

"Before I touch you, I’ll have your consent first. Every time. With everything I do, I want your hearts in it too. And then… I’ll ask you—do you like that?"

My hand moved with purpose, rolling my wrist in slow, deliberate circles, every motion controlled but full of intention. And oh, he liked it. Fuck, he even whimpered. Arthur’s body writhed beneath me, the strain visible as he fought to keep himself from bucking into my touch, his tail thrashing gently against the water. The rawness of the moment, of how much control he was handing over, gave me a high unlike anything before.

"Even when you can't find the words, I'll still ask—does that feel good, baby?" My voice was barely above a whisper now, but it was filled with conviction. 

I needed him to know that his pleasure, his voice, mattered. It was a quiet promise between us, one that resonated in the very air we shared.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his head tilting back against the glass wall, and he nodded in a jerky, almost desperate motion. His breath was ragged, blowing out rapidly through his gills as his slick warmth continued to spill over my fingers. It was impossibly wet, dripping down the side of his tail as I quickened my pace, matching his rising need with every stroke.

I grinned, feeling a surge of power as a deep groan rose from his throat. The sound was primal, and his clawed hands gripped the edge of the pool with such intensity that I could feel the muscles in his arms straining beneath the motion. His veins grew and pulsed along the skin of his forearm. My own heat between my legs was building steadily, every inch of my body attuned to him, and I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips down against the rigid muscle of his tail. The contact sent jolts of heat through me, intensifying this thick tension between us.

“Sometimes,” I paused, savoring the moment, feeling the raw desire flare in my eyes as I spoke. His brows furrowed in frustration, breath quickening. “I may even ask you to tell me what you need.” My words hung in the air, a challenge, a promise. 

Arthur’s gaze snapped open, locking onto mine with desperate intensity, and I could see it—the hunger. He wanted more. He wanted it all. But I was in control now. And I was savoring every moment of making this massive, powerful creature beg for what he craved.

“Please,” he didn’t need to say a word for me to know exactly what he was thinking, but when he did, it was a low growl that sent a shiver through me. “I need,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

And then, what he did next surprised me, but it only sent a thrill of excitement coursing through my body. Arthur grabbed my wrist with almost brutal urgency, guiding my fingers toward his entrance, his touch insistent. I couldn’t help but gasp softly as his heat surrounded my fingers, slick and welcoming as he pushed them in. 

His hiss echoed in the quiet space, and as the word slipped from his lips, the rawness of it had me aching for him.

“You,” he breathed, eyes locked onto mine with a pleading desperation.

It would be sinful to deny him when he asked so sweetly. As I sank my fingers into his slick heat, I felt the undeniable strength coiled within him—tight, powerful, and yet yielding beneath my touch. His body mirrored my own in ways I understood, yet there was something exquisitely foreign about him, something that made my breath hitch with fascination.

A trembling, melodic moan spilled from his lips as I dragged my fingers out, only to sink them back in, slow and vigilant. The way he clenched around me, the way his body reacted so beautifully, had me utterly entranced.

I let out a slow, measured breath, watching the way his body trembled beneath my touch. His gills flared, his claws flexed, and his tail twitched with restrained urgency. He was holding himself back—barely. 

And gods, did that make me want to give him everything.

I pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw, letting my lips linger against the damp heat of his skin. “You’re being so good for me, Arthur,” I murmured, my voice a low hum against his throat. “So strong, so beautiful… and so needy.” 

I dragged my fingers along the sensitive flesh where I knew he was aching for more, teasing, coaxing, making sure he knew that I saw him. That I felt his want, his desperation, and that I wanted it just as badly.

"You've been craving this since the moment we met," I purred, my fingers working deeper, drawing another shudder from him. "Needing someone to touch you like this… to guide you through the season. Help you find release."

I picked up my pace, and the groan that tore from his lips was nothing short of divine. Leaning in, I let my breath ghost over his ear, savoring the way he shuddered.

"Someone like me," I murmured, voice dripping with promise, "someone to take care of you."

A growl rumbled from deep within his chest, but there was no anger in it—just raw, aching need. I smiled against his skin, pressing my body closer, grinding just slightly against the ridges of his tail. My own need was probably burning into his flesh as I spoke.

“I love feeling you like this,” I continued, my fingers pressing just a little deeper, feeling the way he clenched around them. “Letting me touch you. Letting me feel how much you want me.” I curled my fingers, rubbing slow, pressured strokes, and his entire body jerked. 

Bullseye. His cunt had that perfect sweet spot, just like mine—hot, sensitive, and begging for attention. 

The moment I found it, Arthur's whole body tensed, a desperate, shuddering moan spilling from his lips. He was melting beneath me, unraveling with every stroke, every teasing press of my fingers. Completely, utterly mine.

His breath hitched, his tail slashing once through the water before curling tightly around my thigh, as if he couldn’t bear for me to be even a fraction away from him. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart—” His voice broke, a shudder rolling through his massive frame.

I grinned, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Oh, honey,” I cooed, nipping at his skin. “You don’t have to hold back with me. You shouldn’t hold back with me.” I quickened my pace, watching as his grip on the edge of the pool tightened, as his hips rocked helplessly toward my hand, chasing the friction. 

“This pleasure is yours just as much as you are mine.”

His eyes snapped open at that, something wild and vulnerable flashing through them, but I didn’t let up. I wanted him to believe it. To feel it.

I dragged my free hand down his chest, feeling the heavy, rapid thrum of his twin heartbeats against my palm. Muscles tensing and rippling with every stroke. “Let me hear you, Arthur,” I whispered, lips ghosting over his ear. “Let me feel you come undone.”

A deep, rolling vibration bloomed beneath my palm, starting in his chest and spreading outward—a purr, low and unrestrained, shaking through his massive frame like a storm barely contained. My breath caught at the sheer feel of it, how it reverberated through me, sank into my bones, made my skin prickle with something warm and electric.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasped, a blissful moan slipping past my lips as pleasure surged through me. His whole tail vibrated with it, firm and unrelenting against my core, sending shockwaves of heat through my body. I let my fingers dig into him, teasing, savoring. “You purring like that for me?”

Arthur barely managed a grunt in response, too lost to the sensations I was dragging him through. His head lolled back against the glass, his gills flaring wide with each breath, knuckles white as he scraped against the ledge.

As if he were trying to hold himself to this plane of reality and not be swept under completely.

But I wanted him swept under.

I wanted him undone in a way he’d never been before.

As he slicked over my fingers, hot and heady, something inside me ached to know more—to feel more, to taste more of him.

I moved without thinking, shifting down, pressing soft kisses along the length of his torso, trailing lower and lower until I was kneeling in the shallow water before him. My fingers were still buried inside him, still curling and stroking in slow, precise movements, and when I leaned down—when I pressed my mouth to where my fingers disappeared inside him—Arthur’s whole body froze.

“D-darlin’ wha—what’re you—“ 

“Relax,” I cooed. “I’m kissin’ you. Just feel.” Repeating his words from earlier when he shattered my mind with only his hand. 

Sucking on that sensitive nub, in the exact way that would send a woman like me over the edge. A sharp gasp tore from his lips, his tail kicking wildly beneath me, nearly knocking me off balance. His entire body went rigid, his breath stalling for just a second before it hitched and broke into a desperate, strangled sound that sent heat pooling deep in my belly.

“Sweetheart—please…I-I’m mmffuuck—” His voice was hoarse, wrecked, his hips rocking instinctively toward my mouth as if he were utterly powerless against the pull of pleasure.

I hummed, taking my time, dragging myself along the delicate, fluttering muscle beneath my lips, tasting the briny sweetness of him. Flicking my tongue and feeling every one of his nerves come to life as it pulsed in rhythm with his glowing lights. 

“You like that huh?” I teased, licking up his slit before pulling him back into my warm mouth. 

He was writhing, his voice barely audible as he choked. “Y-yes I—fuck that feels s-so good.” 

It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, intoxicating and primal, and the way he reacted only made me crave him more.

Arthur was panting now, one hand rested on the back of my head, sharp claws dangerously close to my scalp. The other hand digging into the stone, his twin heartbeats hammering against my palm where I still held him. His purring had turned frantic, uneven, broken by sharp gasps and shuddering moans, his body trembling beneath me as I coaxed him toward the edge.

Dragging my fingers from his warmth, I kept my tongue focused, mapping every inch of his slick heat as I searched for something more—something deeper. My breath hitched when I found it.

At the base of his slit, I felt it—something unmistakably firm, pulsing beneath the surface, pressing against my touch as if drawn to me, as if yearning.

"Arthur," I murmured, my voice low and tantalizing. "I want to see you. All of you."

A shudder ran through him, his body taut with restraint. Even as his chest heaved, even as his hearts pounded wildly, he still held back.

And I knew why.

The memory of our first time crept between us like a shadow. The moment he had bared himself to me in full—vulnerable and aching—my own startled hesitation had fractured his confidence. Not rejection, never that, but enough uncertainty to plant the seed of doubt within him. And now, even with my mouth pressed to his most sensitive places, even with my fingers coaxing him toward release, he hesitated.

I wouldn’t let that happen again.

Sliding my free hand up, I traced along his torso, brushing my fingers over the delicate slits of his gills. Soft. Silken. So devastatingly sensitive. Perhaps I was pushing him too far, I knew that if I touched him here he would be unable to control it. His breath caught, body trembling beneath my touch, stuck in the warring tides of desire and doubt.

"Let go, honey," I whispered, pressing soft, slow circles against the slit between his scales, teasing, soothing, urging. “You don’t need to hide yourself.” 

A strangled whimper escaped him—so raw, so desperate that it sent a thrill straight through me. Desperation aching between my legs as I clenched around nothing, the anticipation was enough to make me dizzy. 

And then it happened.

He gave in.

Complete and utter surrender.

I felt it before I saw it—the way his muscles relaxed, the way his slit parted, and the way something thick and wet unfurled into my waiting hands. Gliding between my fingers. Hot. Slick. Pulsing with an unrelenting need.

A gasp caught in my throat as my fingers traced over his length, marveling at the alien smoothness of it. Unlike a human’s, his skin here was impossibly soft, almost velvety, but firm beneath my touch. Toward the base was thick, swollen, coated with sticky arousal, while the shaft tapered to a rounded point, long and elegant. My fingertips glided along its seamless curve, feeling the subtle ridges, oh yes, he had ridges here too. It twitched and flexed instinctively at my touch.

It was strange and yet, somehow, arousingly perfect. Designed to be felt. To be worshiped.

And oh, I intended to worship it.

"That’s it, baby," I purred against him, wrapping my fingers around his glossy length, stroking slowly, savoring the way he trembled for me. "Let me take care of you. Let me feel you come."

Pressing my lips to his clit, I let my tongue tease and flick, tasting the briny-sweet essence of his arousal as I stroked his cock. Arthur jerked, a broken moan tumbling from his lips, his tail thrashing beneath me as if he couldn’t control it. 

Gods, he was fucking perfect.

A guttural, near-animalistic roar tore from his throat, his entire body seizing, and I barely had time to brace myself before he came undone. His tail thrashed, his muscles locked, and I felt the rush of wet heat against my tongue, the desperate shudders that wracked through him, the sheer, overwhelming force of his climax.

I clung to him, savoring every broken moan, every helpless twitch, every tremor that wracked his body as he came apart for me—completely, unashamedly, beautifully. The realization struck me then, a delicious surprise—his separate sexes could reach their peaks independently. And oh, the possibilities that opened up. So many ways I could unravel him, shatter him over and over again… if he didn’t completely wear me out first.

As he slumped back against the glass, utterly spent and panting like he’d just survived a war, I slowly pulled away, savoring the way his body still shook with aftershocks above me. Pressing one last lingering kiss against his sensitive flesh, I finally let my gaze drop, truly taking in the sight before me.

“Holy shit…” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. “You really do have two.”

I had felt it, but seeing it was something else entirely. It would take some time to wrap my head around the sheer beauty of it—because that’s what it was. Beautiful. I realized I had been stroking the bottom one, my fingers wrapped around its soft heat, while another identical appendage stood erect above it. They were joined together at the base where they had emerged from his slit, a perfect mirror of each other. In the low lighting, their color became more apparent—a lighter, almost iridescent blue, reminiscent of his tongue. And those sinful ridges… they traced all the way from the smooth, tapered heads down the underside, subtle yet pronounced, meant to drive whoever took him to madness.

A shiver of excitement coursed through me.

Arthur was big too, thick and impossibly heavy beneath my fingers, though I had already suspected as much. I could barely wrap my hand around one, let alone both. They weren’t exactly rigid, like humans. But instead, solid yet pliable. A fluid kind of firmness that still allowed the right amount of flexibility. They were supple, almost like... fuck, like a tentacle—perfectly balanced between softness and strength.

Yet in my arousal—my love-drunk haze—I wasn’t concerned with whether he would fit. Because he would. Because I would make him.

His breathless reply finally came, slow and laced with the remnants of his climax.

“Yeah… I really do.”

I looked up to find him watching me, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath. His entire body was still trembling with the aftershocks, but there was something else there, something almost spiritual in the way he gazed at me. Like I was unreal. Like I was divine.

Like I had just handed him a new god to worship. And maybe I did. 

Then, a clawed hand slipped around my waist, trailing lower, teasing the curve of my bottom. A devious glint flashed in his eyes, that exhaustion from mere moments ago replaced by something insatiable, something hungry.

“And you’ve got two holes,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky with desire.

A single teasing finger dipped lower, pressing lightly against that forbidden place, and a thrill shot through me. I had never taken a man there before—never even considered it—but the idea of Arthur being my first? That was intoxicating.

Pressing my body flush against him, I let out a soft, pleased hum as he swirled his finger, coaxing a new kind of ache to bloom inside me.

“Mhm,” I purred into his ear, my lips brushing the sensitive fins there. “It’s like I was made just for you.”

Arthur’s grin was slow and wicked, his sharp fangs glinting in the dim light.

“That’s right, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice thick like honey. “Just fr’me.”

Then, with effortless strength, he pushed himself off the edge of the pool, taking me with him as he sank our bodies back into the water. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, his cocks pressing against my aching heat, the sensation alone nearly sending me over the edge. The anticipation was maddening—I was ready to beg, to insist that he take me right here, split me open on his thick cock until I couldn’t speak.

But Arthur had other plans.

He crossed the pool, carrying me effortlessly through the water, until he reached the shallower end where the rocky curve sloped up like the natural landscape of a beach. Then, pulling himself from the water, he laid back against the warm, smooth stone, his muscles gleaming under the dim light, his gaze locked onto mine with pure, unrestrained desire.

His hands found my hips, his touch firm and possessive.

“My turn,” he rumbled, patting my bottom with a teasing smack, urging me forward.

I blinked, realization dawning as heat pooled low in my belly.

“Come ride my face, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise. “I wanna drown in that sweet taste of yours.”

Finally. That slick, sinuous, and utterly sinful tongue was mine to claim.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

Arthur’s gaze burned with unrelenting hunger as his mate crawled up his torso, every movement deliberate, her eyes locked onto his with a silent anticipation that sent a primal thrill through him. Something had shifted—his words had unlocked a deep, hidden desire within her, something raw and unrestrained. Tonight, he would have her trembling, breathless, crying out his name until it was the only thing she could remember. He would etch himself into her soul, claim her so thoroughly that no human touch could ever compare. She would yearn for him, crave him, beg for him to take her, to fill her over and over until she was swollen with his child.

The thought sent a possessive heat curling low in his belly, an ache unlike any other. Arthur had spent a lifetime yearning for freedom, dreaming of the ocean’s vast and endless horizon—but beneath it all, there had always been something deeper. A longing for purpose. A need to protect, to nurture. To have a family again. To raise a child in the ways of his people—what little he could still remember—to teach, to provide, to love. And now, the female who had captured his hearts lay above him, offering herself to him so freely, so trustingly.

It drove him absolutely wild with desire.

His twin cocks twitched and pulsed as she straddled his face, thighs spread wide on either side of him. And gods, her scent—it was intoxicating, heady and thick, curling around his senses like a siren��s call. So close to his gills, it was all he could breathe, all he could taste, an irresistible lure that had him parting his lips in anticipation. The moment his tongue tasted the air, he nearly lost himself.

Instincts roared to life, drowning out reason, darkening the edges of his vision with a need so deep it bordered on madness. Breed, they urged. Fill her, claim her, fuck her until every last drop of his seed was buried inside her tight, aching heat. Until she was marked by him in every possible way.

But Arthur had learned patience—decades of solitude had taught him restraint. He knew humans mated differently, savoring the slow burn, the delicate unraveling. And he could see it in her—she was relishing in the exploration of his body just as much as he was hers.

So he would take his time.

Slowly, reverently, he would worship every inch of her, tasting, teasing, until she was trembling, pleading, desperate for more. Until she was ready to take all of him.

Letting out a trembling breath, she eased her hips down, hovering just above his parted lips. The heat of her, the exhilarating scent of her arousal, had Arthur’s gills flaring wide as he let his tongue slip out. Dragging a hot, wet stripe from the base of her entrance to the little pearl hidden beneath.

Gods, it is so much like his own. Her body mirrored his in ways he was only beginning to understand, the similarities both fascinating and maddening.

A breathy moan filled the silence as her hips jerked up in an involuntary response, her thighs quivering above him. Arthur smirked against her slick folds, knowing his ridged tongue must have been rough against her soft, sensitive flesh. A stark contrast to the way her own tongue had felt against him—smooth, impossibly silken—a torturously agile muscle that had him seeing stars, his tail trembling as she wrung him dry.

“Jumpy little thing, aren’t ya?” His voice was thick with desire, dark and teasing. Gripping her bottom, he kneaded the supple flesh, coaxing her to lower those beautiful hips again. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Please, sit on my face.”

She let out the prettiest little sigh as she finally surrendered, sinking down and pressing herself fully against his waiting mouth. Arthur let out a deep hum of satisfaction—this was heaven, it had to be. He had never been a religious man, but between her thighs, he swore he had just met god.

Puckering his lips, he placed a lingering kiss against her clit before drawing it into his mouth, sucking gently, teasing her with the tip of his tongue.

Her cry split the air, sharp and breathless, her fingers tangling in his damp hair with a desperate grip. Her thighs quivered against his face, her body tightening and arching like a bowstring. She had ridden his hand earlier like a woman starved, grinding against his calloused palm with reckless abandon—yet now, against the ridges of his tongue, she trembled as though he was unraveling her piece by delicate piece.

“You alright?” Arthur rumbled, recalling her little mating lesson on human communication. Whatever she needed from him, he would give without hesitation.

She nodded quickly, sucking in a shaky breath as his hot exhale ghosted against her core. “Y-yeah… your tongue just feels so good, Arthur.” His name came out in a breathless pant, raw and pleading, like she was coiled tight and ready to shatter.

Fuck.

Hearing her say his name like that sent a rush of blood straight to his cocks, his vision darkening at the edges with something feral, almost possessive. His fingers flexed against her ass, holding her firmly in place as he growled, “Good. Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”

Her gaze flickered down, brow pinching together in surprise at his sudden command. He met her eyes, unwavering, voice rough with impatience.

“Ride my face.”

A delicious tremor ran through her, and then finally—finally—she rolled her hips, gliding against his mouth just as she had done against his palm. And fuck, she was utterly perfect.

“Atta girl,” he groaned, voice thick with need.

Pushing out his long tongue, he laid it flat against his chin, offering himself up for her pleasure as she ground down onto him. A deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against her as she moaned, loud and unabashed. Her slick coated his taste buds, warm and succulent, her soft folds silkier than the petals of a water lily as they skated over his mouth.

Arthur breathed her in, pulling her scent deep into his lungs, letting it sink into his very bones. Every nerve in his body burned with the need to memorize her, to commit every note of her arousal to memory, something he could cling to when they were apart.

Closing his lips around that swollen nub, he licked, sucked, and swirled his tongue in gradual circles until her hips bucked wildly against him. Blunt nails scraped against his scalp as she grasped at him, desperate for something to ground her in the storm of pleasure he was dragging her through.

His grip on her thighs tightened, fingers digging into soft flesh, claws pressing dangerously close to breaking skin as he nipped at her folds. But he didn’t just lick her—no, Arthur devoured her. He was messy, unrestrained, and loud, filling the space with deep, throaty groans and eager slurps, as if she was the most divine thing he had ever tasted.

Because she was.

She cried his name, a broken, desperate sound, trying to lift her hips and escape the relentless pleasure. But he wasn’t about to let her go. Taking full advantage, he plunged his tongue deep inside, feeling her body clench around him as he claimed every inch of her from the inside out. Every ounce of his attention zeroed in between her thighs, his ridged tongue carving out a space for himself that he knew she would feel everywhere. Those bumps stroked along her soft, velvety walls, dragging over her sensitive clit with each deliberate movement. He licked, sucked, and teased until she was trembling violently in his arms, a heaving, incoherent mess.

A string of curses spilled from her lips, each one stoking the fire inside him, driving him closer to madness. His tail thrashed in the water, desperate to coil around something, desperate to ground himself as his own arousal surged past the point of reason. His cocks were aching, weeping, throbbing with the unbearable need to be inside her—to replace his tongue with something thicker, heavier, to stretch her open and fill her to the brim with his heat.

And then she leaned forward, her body shaking, and began rolling her hips, undulating in a slow, sensual rhythm, fucking his tongue as she chased her release.

Arthur groaned, his entire body shuddering at the sight of her above him, lost in pleasure, lost in him. Gripping one of his cocks, he stroked himself with a rough, desperate hand. Pre-cum slicking his fingers as he imagined her wrapped around him, wet and tight, squeezing him with every rapid heartbeat.

Arousal dripped down his chin, sliding into his gills, and Arthur nearly lost himself. They flared against her thighs, fluttering greedily, as if seeking more—more of her scent, more of her taste, more of her. The urge to flip her over, to pin her down and claim her fully, was almost unbearable.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, eyes dark and heavy as he watched her writhe above him. Her breasts bounced with every movement, her nipples pebbling into tight peaks, a sight so tantalizing it made his mouth water. He licked her lips, gaze locked onto her as she used him, as she took her pleasure from him.

“Ain’tchu a pretty sight,” Arthur cooed between thrusts, his voice thick with hunger, worshipful and wild all at once.

Something behind her must have caught her attention, her gaze drifting over her shoulder as she watched him stroking himself. A soft pout formed on her lips, full and enticing, before she gave a quiet, disapproving hum.

“Stop that,” she murmured.

Arthur’s lips curled against her folds, his breath warm and teasing. “Un-unh,” he rumbled, tongue flicking against her clit. “Don’tchu worry about me now, keep on.”

But she wasn’t having it. In a sudden shift, she pulled her thighs from around his face, and he growled—a low, primal sound of frustration. His instincts screamed at him to seize her hips, to pull her back down, to demand she ride his mouth until she was sobbing his name, her juices slicking his tongue, dripping down his chin, saturating his throat.

But if he’d learned anything from her little lesson, consent was important. No matter how desperately he ached to have her, if she wanted to stop, he would obey.

A breathless giggle escaped her lips as she lifted one thigh, twisting away from him. “Relax, big guy. I’m not going anywhere.”

Arthur blinked, puzzled for a moment as she resettled above him—only this time, her back was facing him.

Then she began to lower herself again, and realization crashed into him like a tidal wave.

“I think you’re going to like this,” she whispered.

Gods above.

She bent forward, offering him a front-row seat to the breathtaking view of her plump ass and the glistening, swollen lips of her pussy. A masterpiece, a canvas begging for him to paint with his tongue. His fingers clenched, nails pressing into his palms as his restraint frayed at the edges.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, voice wrecked with need. “Look at you. I ain’t never seen nothin’ more perfect.”

Unable to contain himself, he leaned forward, dragging his tongue in a slow, reverent stripe from her clit up the base of her spine. The taste of her here sent a thrill throughout his body. She shuddered at the contact, a gasp escaping her lips as her back arched, presenting herself to him in full.

And then—Arthur froze. A ghost of warm breath fanned over the tip of his cock.

Twin hearts stuttered, pounding out of rhythm. His mind, already clouded with lust, struggled to catch up. But before he could even form a thought—before he could even breathe—a wet, sinful heat engulfed the head of his cock.

His whole world shattered.

Vision exploded into stars, white-hot and blinding. Darkness crept at the edges of his mind, threatening to pull him under. A strangled, animalistic growl tore from his throat as instinct took over. His hips jerked upward, seeking more of that delicious heat, that tight suction wrapping around him like a vice. It felt perfect, she felt like home.

And she took him with ease. Jaw widening to take all of him.

His smooth skin, already dripping with pre-cum, slid effortlessly down her throat, her lips sealing around him in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. The sensation sent lightning down his spine, setting every nerve on fire. 

Then—oh fuck—his second cock.

As the first one disappeared into the warmth of her mouth, the other slid between the pillowy softness of her breasts, nestled in their embrace as she moved. Each subtle shift, each press of her skin against him, stroked him with a maddening friction that made his tail coil, his claws scratch at the ground.

He was losing himself.

Arthur was about to thrust again, to surrender completely, when she suddenly pulled back, lips gliding off his length with a wet pop. His cock twitched at the loss, desperate for more, but before he could even protest, she swirled her tongue around the head, teasing, rubbing over the slit with slow, deliberate strokes.

He choked on his breath, body locking up, teetering on the edge of ruin.

And then he remembered—remembered the treasure that lay before him, glistening, waiting, begging to be worshiped just as she was worshiping him.

With a sharp inhale, Arthur wrenched himself from the haze of pleasure, pulling his mind from the way her mouth sucked and stroked. And with renewed hunger, he buried his face between her thighs, lavishing her with the same fervor she gave him, licking, tasting, devouring her like a starved man at a feast.

This new angle allowed him to thrust his tongue deeper, curling and pressing against the sweet spots that made her cry out, her body trembling with need. Each stroke of his tongue sent another wave of pleasure crashing over her, while she, in turn, learned from him—every shudder, every twitch, every growl he made as she explored his length. Her soft little tongue traced the ridges of his cock, her lips gliding down the shaft with slow strokes, teasing, taunting.

Arthur nearly lost control when she scraped her teeth ever so lightly over the tapered head. His body jerked, his gills flaring wide as a strangled groan ripped from his chest. Gods above—apparently, he loved that. He hadn't even known about it until now.

She was teaching him things about himself, unraveling new depths of his pleasure just as he was discovering hers.

His heavy-lidded gaze locked onto the mesmerizing sight of her back arching, thighs trembling around his face every time his tongue slipped—teasing that forbidden entrance. She clenched instinctively, her muscles fluttering around him in shy resistance. Arthur wasn’t sure if it was hesitation or something deeper, but she seemed unsure, almost bashful about this particular touch.

And that only made him want to worship her more.

With a deep, godly growl, he gripped the plush curves of her ass, kneading the supple flesh in his rough palms. His claws skimmed lightly over her skin, just enough to leave her shivering as he spread her open, exposing every inch of her to his hungry mouth. He returned to her clit first, laving over the swollen bud with slow, languid strokes, coaxing her muscles to relax. Her body softened against him, just enough—just enough for him to press his mouth over her, his tongue prodding over that tight, untouched ring of muscle.

Her reaction was instant.

“Arthur!” she gasped, voice breaking on a sharp cry—somewhere between shock and something else, something breathless and raw.

Arthur stilled, his tongue retreating as he soothed her with a gentle, circling thumb. His heart pounded, worry flickering through the thick haze of his lust. Had he gone too far? Had he overwhelmed her?

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was rough, hoarse with restraint. He needed her, but he’d rather burn alive than push her past her comfort.

A shaky breath left her, but the scent that filled his lungs next stole his own. A fresh wave of arousal coated her sweet pussy, thick and glistening, her body betraying her hesitation.

Did she… like this?

A slow, wicked grin curled at his lips.

Arthur added the slightest pressure, teasing, testing, his thumb circling as his tongue returned to her clit, flicking, licking—doubling the sensation.

She jolted, her hips wriggling against him, pleasure tangling with her uncertainty. “N-no—it doesn’t hurt, I just…” She trailed off, breath hitching as he pressed another teasing lick to her clit. “It—It’s just…”

The words wouldn’t come.

Arthur pulled back just enough to murmur against her flushed skin. “It’s beautiful,” he finished for her, voice thick with reverence. “Just like you.”

A soft, helpless sound slipped from her lips—something blissful, something like surrender.

A shudder rolled through her, and then she was trembling. “Oh, Arthur, I—fuck, I-I’m close…”

He kept up his pace, relentless yet purposeful, his tongue flicking and swirling over her swollen clit, drawing out every ragged breath, every quiver of pleasure that rippled through her. His thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles around the slick entrance nestled between the soft curve of her ass, teasing, coaxing. Each stroke eased the tight ring of muscle just a little more, and the way her body trembled beneath his touch made his own restraint threadbare.

When her lips wrapped around him again, taking him in with the same achingly slow, worshipful devotion, a deep, guttural groan tore from his throat. The hot, wet pull of her mouth matched the rhythm of his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure up his spine. His orgasm loomed, swelling like a rising tide, threatening to crash over him, but he needed her to come first.

Her breath hitched, panting, breaking into frantic little gasps. He could feel it—her body winding tight, on the precipice of release, her movements growing sloppy and desperate. But Arthur didn’t mind, not for a second.

“I need you to come, baby.” His voice was rough, thick with hunger as he murmured against her flushed skin, his lips brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “I’ve been dying to see you come for me like this.”

He never paused in his ministrations, never relented.

A keening cry ripped from her throat, her body going taut—held in that exquisite, breathless moment before she shattered completely. And then she broke, pleasure surging through her like wildfire, her release spilling over his tongue, soaking him in her essence.

“Good girl,” Arthur coaxed, his voice molten as he lapped up every last drop, drawing out every aftershock, every tremor. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”

She shook violently, her body limp and spent as she slumped against his chest, utterly undone. Arthur barely noticed the added weight pressing into him—his mate was falling apart in his arms, and fuck, it was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.

She was perfect.

Her scent, thick with lust, wrapped around him, and when she whispered his name in that wrecked, blissful way, something inside him nearly snapped.

With gentle strength, he lifted her, shifting her trembling body so she could rest against him. He sat up, holding her close, his calloused fingers stroking up and down her spine, grounding her. “I’ve got you,” he soothed, pressing a slow, affectionate kiss to her damp temple.

She blinked up at him, dazed, her pupils blown wide, her cheeks flushed a deep, intoxicating red. Her hair was a tousled mess, her lips swollen and glistening, and fuck—if anyone else saw her like this, they’d think they had already mated.

But the night was just beginning.

Arthur had made her come twice now. He had only unraveled once. And the next time? It would be when he was buried deep inside her, his cock pulsing, filling her with every drop of his release, marking her as his.

The thought sent a violent shudder through him, his tail twitching in anticipation.

Breathing hard, she gazed up at him, her eyes wide with something close to awe. Arthur was certain of it. “Wow,” she whispered, breathy and sweet.

He was panting too, his gills flaring wide, both of his cocks aching with raw need for what he knew was coming next. But still, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to hear it from her lips, needed the reassurance, the praise.

“That was good?” His voice was low, husky, edged with the remnants of restraint.

Her melodic giggle sent a bolt of heat down his spine, making both of his hearts stutter. “That was perfect.” She traced her gaze down the broad expanse of his chest, her fingers following the rivulets of water gliding over his skin, before dipping lower, toward the thick, twitching appendages at the base of his slit. Her expression shifted, tinged with something shy, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make you finish. It was… a little hard to focus when you were—” She bit her lip, cheeks warming.

Arthur tutted softly, his lips curving in a knowing smirk. “Quit all that.” He leaned down, his breath hot against the shell of her ear before capturing it between his teeth, nibbling just enough to make her whimper. “I’d much rather save it for when I’m inside you.”

She stiffened slightly—not out of fear, no, he would have tasted that. This was something else. Excitement. Anticipation. Her heartbeat thundered against her ribs, and she melted as he began to ease his massive body over hers, pressing her back against the smooth, warm stone. The gentle ripples of the water lapped at their waists where their bodies met, a teasing caress against overheated skin.

Arthur could have taken her in the water, let it cradle them as he claimed her completely, but not this time. Not for their first time. No—he needed control. He needed his tail to set the rhythm, to keep her breathless but safe, and he intended to have her screaming his name the moment he sank into her tight, welcoming heat.

And then she opened for him, spreading her legs just enough for the thick length of his bottom cock to glide against her slick folds. Arthur’s breath caught. His muscles locked up. Fuck. He almost feared for her heart—it was beating so frantically, fluttering like a caged bird desperate to take flight.

She needed this just as much as he did.

Arthurs fingers gripped her thighs, thumbs stroking along the sensitive flesh as he positioned himself, savoring the way she trembled for him. His voice was dark, rough, almost a growl as he whispered, “I’m going to fill you up, sweet girl. And I won’t be able to stop.”

Her breath hitched, her thighs twitching around him.

Smirking, Arthur lowered his mouth to her ear, letting his voice wrap around her like silk. “I’m going to watch my cum seep out of that pretty little slit of yours… before I mate you again and again—until each of your holes has tasted me.”

Pupils blown wide, her breath stuttered as she stared down at the thick, throbbing lengths pressed against her. The hunger in her eyes was consuming.

“You’re going to take it, aren’t you?” His grip tightened, grounding them both in the moment. “All of me.”

She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing, then nodded. But that wasn’t enough. Not for Arthur.

He caught her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up to meet his burning gaze. “I’m asking you,” he rumbled. “Do you need me?”

Her lips parted, breathless, her voice clear and certain. “Yes.”

An invitation. A surrender. A claiming.

Arthur let out a deep, satisfied growl.

And then he feasted.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

That was the hardest I had ever come in my life.

For a moment, my mind felt like it had split in two—fractured beyond recognition. I couldn't think, couldn't speak, hell, I was pretty sure my breathing had stopped entirely. The world ceased to exist, swallowed whole by the tidal wave of pleasure that crashed through me, so powerful, so utterly devastating, I thought I might collapse beneath its weight.

But Arthur caught me.

He held me as if I were something precious, something breakable, his strong arms cradling me against his chest. His hands—so large, so impossibly gentle—stroked slow, soothing circles down my back, his fingers brushing away the damp strands of hair clinging to my forehead. He murmured softly, something I couldn't quite process, not yet, I was too lost in the aftershocks of bliss still pulsing through me.

He gave me time—time to breathe, to come back to myself, to let my thundering heart settle. And then, carefully, knowingly, he eased me down onto the stone beneath us.

The second my back met the warm smooth surface, my body seemed to forget everything—the exhaustion, the overstimulation, the way I'd just touched the divine. Because now, all I could think of was him.

Everything I had been waiting for. Everything we had been building toward.

Our heartbeats pounded in sync, a rhythm thrumming between us, tying us together in ways deeper than touch.

I looked up at him, my pupils blown wide, my vision hazy with lingering pleasure, and all I saw was hunger. The last traces of that familiar ocean blue had all but disappeared, swallowed by the endless black of his pupils, stretched so wide they resembled the full moon hanging heavy in the night sky. It paralyzed me.

He looked otherworldly. Primal. The gills along his neck flared, exhaling hard like he'd just swum leagues without stopping. And that sound—that deep, inhuman noise, something between a growl and a purr—it sent a bolt of heat straight to my core. I'd heard it before, in the rare moments when he had surrendered fully to pleasure—when he came undone, or when I took his cock into my mouth and owned his pleasure.

But this? This was different. This wasn’t just need. 

This was instinct.

And gods, did it make me weak.

Heat flushed through me, thighs trembling as I tried to spread them wider, aching to accommodate the sheer size of him. And for the first time, I really saw him.

Arthur loomed over me, his massive shoulders blocking out the ceiling entirely, muscles rippling with every breath. Somehow, being around him so often had numbed me to the stark reality of our size difference. But looking up at him now, with the full weight of his body braced above mine, the reality sank in.

He was big. So much bigger than I had let myself truly process.

And I wanted him.

The craving cut through me like a blade, sharp and merciless, twined with the faintest whisper of fear—not of him, never that. Every instinct in my body told me I could trust Arthur with my life, with my pleasure, that he would never harm me.

No, what scared me was how badly I wanted him. Like my life had only just begun the moment he drifted into my life. 

It was unnerving, this desperate, gnawing hunger coiling in my gut, the way my body ached for him. I wanted this animal, this gorgeous beast, to fuck me until I was seeing stars. Until my legs shook with the memory of where his cocks had driven me mad with euphoria. Marking me in ways that would tie him to me forever.

Did…did that make me fucked up?

I didn’t care. I loved it.

Arthur took my chin between his fingers, his clawed thumb brushing over my swollen lips, tracing the heat he had left there. His touch was firm, possessive, yet reverent. “I’m asking you,” his voice rumbled from deep within his chest, rough and strained, as if he were barely holding himself together. Every fiber of his being was begging him to take me, to claim me—to mate me. But still, he fought against his instincts, grounding himself, waiting.

Waiting for me.

“Do you need me?”

The question was more than a plea. It was a confession—raw, aching, tinged with the kind of desperation that made my chest tighten. He needed to hear it. He needed to be sure. Like some small, fragile part of him feared I would deny him. That I would change my mind.

As if I could.

After everything we’d been through? After the earth-shattering pleasure he had just given me? I was already lost to him, tangled in something deeper than lust. There was no going back.

My breath came fast, my body already writhing with need as I flicked my tongue over the pad of his thumb. A teasing taste. A promise. Arthur mirrored me, his own tongue swiping over his lips, pupils so wide they swallowed the blue whole.

“Yes.”

The second the word left me, Arthur sucked in a sharp breath, his gills flaring as if he could taste my desire in the air. Then came the sound—that deep, primal growl, full of satisfaction and hunger. His thumb left my lips, trailing a slow, tantalizing path down my side, skimming over my ribs before curling around the back of my knee. His grip was firm, his claws grazing my skin just enough to make me shiver as he pushed my legs open. My muscles burned, stretched almost too wide, but I barely felt it.

I was too focused on him.

Arthur watched me, his gaze locked onto my trembling form as he took hold of the cock that had been gliding over my slick folds. The weight of it, the heat, sent another pulse of arousal through me as he positioned the tip at my entrance.

We were half-submerged, our hips still in the water, but it didn’t matter. I was already soaked, and he had never stopped dripping with that intoxicatingly sweet pre-cum.

The moment he pressed the thick head past my entrance, we both froze.

Arthur’s head snapped up, searching my face, his jaw tight, his eyes dark and intense. This was the threshold—the moment of no return. A silent understanding passed between us, a knowing that if we did this, we would be bound to each other in ways that neither of us could ever undo.

I nodded.

Reaching up, I tangled my fingers in the damp strands of hair at the base of his skull, tugging him down into a kiss.

“Yes, Arthur.” Breathing the words against his mouth, reassuring him again for good measure. 

Arthur flexed his hips, sliding in just an inch, and the sensation was like liquid fire pouring through my veins. I gasped into his mouth, my body stretching around him, barely able to take him, and yet desperate for more. He was almost too much—too thick, too long—but the way he filled me was perfect. Devastatingly smooth, gliding deeper without resistance, my body yielding to him like it had been made for this.

Tilting my head back, I groaned as he sank in another inch. Then another. The initial burn melted into something deeper, something hotter, my walls clenching around him, gripping him greedily, urging him to fill the aching emptiness inside me.

Arthur’s tail shifted, and he drew back.

The slow retreat of his cock left a trail of fire in its wake, dragging over every nerve, every oversensitive inch of me. A whimper slipped from my lips at the loss—only for him to roll his hips forward and push deeper.

A choked sound erupted from me, somewhere between a moan and a cry, as Arthur let out a long, guttural groan, his forehead pressing against mine.

Breaking our contact, I looked up at him, drinking in the sight of him above me—his eyes squeezed shut, his brows furrowed, his jaw clenched tight in concentration. His gills fluttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to control himself, to hold back.

But I didn’t want him to.

His second cock lay heavy against my clit, the ridges pressed flush against my aching bundle of nerves, sending jolts of sensation sparking through me. It would be my undoing.

But only if he moved. And fuck, I needed him to move.

“Arthur,” I whined, the sound pitiful, dripping with need. My voice was raw, breathless, and desperate.

He groaned, his breath ragged, heavy with restraint. “You feel so good. S-so tight.” His words came out in a rasp, like he was barely holding himself together.

“Please…move,” I whispered, arching toward him, my fingers trembling against his skin.

A wicked thought struck me—what if his kind didn’t move like humans? What if they locked together like some species of fish and that was it? No thrusting, no rolling of hips—just static, leaving me hanging in this unbearable tension.

No. I refused to let that be my fate. I would get my dues on this. 

My back arched off the stone, pressing into him as I rolled my hips, pulling back so he nearly slid free from my body. The sensation sent a shudder through me, a teasing promise of loss that had me aching for more.

Arthur hadn’t stopped me. His fingers dug into my hips, claws pressing just enough to sting, but he didn’t resist. The only sound he made was a soft, broken whimper—like he thought I was pulling away. Like he feared I’d changed my mind.

I shattered that fear in an instant.

Slamming my hips back up into his, I pulled him deep, forcing his cock to fill me again as I clutched at his shoulders and back for leverage. The other cock slid with the movement, dragging against my clit in a way that sent a raw, unfiltered pleasure ripping through my body. The weight of it, the ridges pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves—it was perfect. Maddening. Overwhelming.

A breathy, high-pitched cry broke from my lips.

Arthur’s eyes snapped open. And I saw the moment it clicked.

A growl curled from his throat, deep and predatory, his lip curling in a snarl as his grip tightened on my waist. A sharp, demanding possessiveness flickered across his face before he slammed into me again. 

And again.

And again.

Each thrust was punishing, relentless—his hips snapping forward in a brutal rhythm that had me gasping, keening with every inch that he drove into me. Giving me what I had so desperately needed. The sheer girth of him as he bottomed out, the stretch, the way those ridges caught on every nerve—it was too much and yet not enough. 

It was pushing me toward my limit.

My mouth had never fit around all of him. My fingers could only wrap around the head before the thickness at the base swelled too wide. And yet, my body—desperate, greedy, utterly consumed by him—took him. Wanted him.

Arthur’s pace turned brutal, his hips pistoning into mine, the water sloshing violently around us. The wet, obscene sounds filled the air, mingling with his deep, guttural grunts and the sharp slaps of skin meeting skin. The force of it drove my body into the stone beneath me, every impact sending shocks of pleasure and pain colliding in my core. 

I welcomed it.

The ache, the burn—it only made the pleasure sharper, brighter, until I was unraveling around him again, walls clamping down, squeezing, milking him as I screamed. My nails raked down his spine, dragging over the smooth expanse of his skin as he arched over me, driving himself even deeper.

Nothing had ever felt this real. This right.

“Fuuck—” Arthur cursed, voice wrecked, his control hanging by a thread. Then came my name, raw and guttural, torn from his throat in a deep groan that sent a violent shudder through me. “That’s it. Fuck, baby, that’s it. Oh, you’re so good. S-so fucking good.”

His praise shattered me.

A desperate whimper spilled from my lips, my body already spiraling toward the edge again, the pleasure building too fast, too strong. My muscles tightened, every nerve firing, as he drove into me with merciless, ragged thrusts. The wet, slippery sounds filled the space around us, almost drowning out my sharp, gasping cries.

Arthur didn’t stop. Didn’t slow.

His movements were relentless, pounding into me so hard my tits bounced, my heels scraping against the roughness of his scales as I clung to him. Oh, I was going to be sore after this.

And gods, the thought only excited me more.

Arthur wasn’t just fucking me—he was claiming me. Breeding me with a desperation so fierce it was as if some unseen force was testing him, whispering that if he didn’t do this right, he was a failure. He poured everything into this, into me—each deep, pounding thrust an unspoken vow, each bruising grip a plea and a promise all at once.

I felt him, all of him.

Raw desire clashed with aching longing, a feverish passion stoking the flames of something far more primal. And beneath it all, there was hunger—a possessive, feral hunger that burned through every stroke, every grind of his hips. His claws dug into my flesh, sharp enough to sting, but not enough to break skin. Leaving behind a delicious ache that had me arching into him.

“You’re mine,” he growled, voice hoarse with lust. His breath was hot against my lips, his words a branding iron against my skin. “This pussy belongs to me.”

A choked gasp escaped me, my walls clenching around his cock in a desperate, involuntary response. He felt it—knew what his words did to me, and kissed me hard, swallowing every whimper, every ragged moan.

“Always,” I rasped, my voice breaking. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. “I’m yours, Arthur. Every inch of me.”

Body and soul. I wanted to add, but his lips sealed over mine again. 

Moans left my lips like prayers, my pulse hammering, my heart racing. I was so close, so devastatingly close. The pleasure coiled tight, white-hot and unbearable, clenching around me like a vice. My breath hitched as the pressure built, built, until darkness crept at the edges of my vision, and stars exploded behind my closed eyelids.

The feeling of being so full, so ruthlessly taken, had me spiraling.

“F-fuck, Arthur, I’m—” My voice broke, trembling, whimpering. Some desperate, self-preserving part of me wanted to hold on, to keep teetering on this exquisite edge forever. I wasn’t ready for this to end.

Arthur knew. With a deep, guttural grunt, he pulled out completely, and my body screamed for him.

But he wasted no time.

Rolling his hips, he pushed back inside in a way that was slower, deeper—grinding against that devastating spot inside me. It sent a fresh wave of pleasure tearing through my body, a sensation so intense it nearly had me convulsing beneath him.

He knew I was holding back. And he wouldn’t let me.

Arthur drove me to my limit, stripping away my restraint, my humanity, until all that remained was pure, primal need. My body was his, and gods above—every instinct inside me demanded he make me take all of him. To fill me so completely that the rest of the world fell away, leaving nothing but this moment, this feeling, just him.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he rasped, dragging his tongue in a slow, searing stripe from the hollow of my throat up to my ear. His voice was velvet and gravel, laced with sin, with command.

“Let me feel that perfect pussy milk my cock.”

His command was enough to tip me over the edge. To shatter me.

The moment I obeyed, it stole the very breath from my lungs, wracking my body with a release so intense it bordered on painful pleasure. My limbs trembled, my fingers clinging helplessly to Arthur’s slick skin as wave after relentless wave crashed through me. Tears pricked my eyes, hot and overwhelming, slipping down my cheeks as I gasped his name like a plea, like a prayer.

I’d never felt anything like this before. And gods help me, I knew I would do anything to feel it again.

Arthur had ruined me. Branded himself into my very bones, carved his name into the deepest parts of me. No other man would ever compare, and I hated him for it—hated myself for craving him with a ferocity that bordered on madness.

A rough, guttural groan tore from his throat, his rhythm faltering as his cock thickened, stretching me in a way that sent fresh, electric pleasure sparking through my veins. He buried himself to the hilt, hitting a place so impossibly deep it turned my mind into nothing but white noise.

And then I was gone.

Screaming, sobbing, breaking apart in his arms as I praised his name like he was something holy.

“Fuck!” Arthur roared.

Burying his face into my chest, his body crashed against mine. Every muscle in his frame tensed as he pressed me into the unyielding stone beneath us. He was heavy, overwhelming, his desperate thrusts turning frantic, erratic. His fingers dug into my flesh, as if he could anchor himself—as if he didn’t want to let go.

Then I felt it.

The hot, liquid pulse of his release spilling inside me, filling me, so much more than any human could give. So much that I could feel it slipping out even before he pulled away, mixing with the water around us in delicate, shimmering tendrils—pale and iridescent, like an otherworldly oil slick. It made my pussy clench around him again. 

The sensation of him coming inside me only sent me spiraling further, prolonging my orgasm until I thought I might pass out.

Darkness fluttered at the edges of my vision, my body completely spent, pulsing with an exhaustion that felt almost euphoric.

Arthur pulled out, and I shivered at the loss, an ache curling in my gut that was almost unbearable. He had left me empty—hollowed out, missing something vital. I fought against the daze threatening to consume me, but I was too far gone, too lost in the haze of pleasure and exhaustion.

Distantly, I heard my name. Arthur’s voice, low and hesitant, cutting through the fog. I tried to respond, but my lips wouldn’t move.

I just needed a moment. Just one.

He sat up, easing his weight off my chest, and I sucked in a deep, trembling breath, my body still thrumming with the aftermath of what we’d just done.

"Shit," Arthur breathed, his voice thick with concern. "D-did I hurt you, sweetheart?"

The sudden panic in his tone snapped me back to reality, cutting through the haze of pleasure and exhaustion. I must have taken too long to respond because his grip on me tightened, lifting me with such careful reverence that it made my heart ache. He cradled me against his chest, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cool air around us. The shift in position sent a slow, delicious trickle of heat spilling from between my thighs, a filthy reminder of just how thoroughly he had taken me.

His voice rasped against my ear, desperate and pleading. "Say something, please."

I managed a small, breathless laugh. "I'm okay." And I was. More than okay—I was wrecked in the best possible way. "You could never hurt me, Arthur."

The words came out raw, thick with the depth of my emotions. With a trembling hand, I cupped his cheek, fingers stroking through the damp strands of his beard. His eyes softened, relief crashing over his features like a wave before his lips curled into the most breathtaking smile—sated and beautiful.

“That felt like—” I began. 

He pressed his forehead to mine, our breath mingling as he whispered, "Home."

A shiver danced down my spine.

"You felt like home."

Something in my chest cracked open at those words.

We stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other, letting our aftershocks fade into slow, tender kisses—featherlight, reverent, addictive. Our noses brushed, soft and teasing, like swans in a gentle courtship dance. The intimacy of it made my heart race in a way that sex alone never could.

Arthur had told me once, in that quiet, broken way of his: My hearts will follow you to the end.

Now, with the way he held me, worshiped me, I understood. This was what he meant. This was his love, laid bare.

"You were so beautiful," he murmured, lips tracing over my temple, my cheek, my jaw. "So perfect. You take me so well, my girl."

His words were honey-thick, dripping into my ears and down my spine, making my thighs clench involuntarily.

Then I felt it. Something hot and heavy twitching against my calf where our bodies curled into each other.

My breath hitched.

Arthur's grip on me tightened, his voice dipping lower, heavier, hungrier.

"But I still need you."

Oh, fuck. He really wasn’t lying when he said both of my holes would taste him. 

I barely had time to process before he was moving again, gripping my hips and flipping me onto my belly, easing me down and pulling my ass up as my bare skin pressed against the smooth stone. Encouraging me to settle onto my knees. 

"Ah—Arthur—"

"Shh," he soothed, running a broad hand over my spine, down to my ass, spreading me apart just enough to make me tremble. A teasing finger glided over that forbidden entrance, now coated in arousal. Dragging it down further he brushed over my achingly sore heat. Spreading his seed around my lips and up between my cheeks. Painting myself in his sticky hot spend.

"I have two," he reminded me, voice a dark promise against my skin. Gently, I heard him shift in the water, adjusting himself. Looking back over my shoulder, I watched. He gripped his thick, swollen cock still dripping with cum. And teased my entrance, the head nudging, demanding.

"And so do you."

Heat flooded through me, anticipation winding me so tight I thought I might snap.

Before doubt could creep in, I already had my answer. "Then you shall have me."

Arthur growled, a sound of pure satisfaction, gripping me like he owned me.

"Good," he purred, lining himself up again. Using the tip of his cock to spread his cum over my ass as it seeped out of my slit.

I froze as a new sensation erupted—sharp, foreign, a mix of lingering pleasure and a stinging ache where he had already claimed me. My hips were lifted above the water now, exposed to the cool air, and though his spend made my skin slick, it wasn’t enough. Not for this. A shiver ran down my spine, part anticipation, part apprehension. I had never taken anyone here before, and I knew if he was too quick, too rough, the pain could overwhelm the pleasure.

“W-wait,” I panted, my breath shaky. “Arthur, stop.”

He stilled immediately. A warm, steady hand smoothed down my spine, grounding me as he leaned in, his chest flush against my back.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low, earnest, full of concern.

I pushed myself upright, twisting slightly to meet his gaze. “Let’s do this in the water,” I murmured. “It’ll be easier, with less gravity and…” I trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it. I didn’t want my hesitation to deter him, but I needed him to be gentle.

Arthur’s dark eyes softened with understanding, and he gathered me into his arms without question, guiding us into deeper waters. The moment we sank down far enough that my breasts floated, warmth wrapped around me like a soothing balm, easing the rawness between my thighs.

“And what, my love?” he pressed, his voice a silken promise against my ear. “Tell me what you need.”

His lips found my neck, kissing and nipping gently as his strong hands roamed over my body. His touch was both reverent and possessive, mapping every inch of me as if committing it to memory. I could feel the rapid thrum of his heart against my back, his breaths turning ragged with restraint.

The cool water swirled between my legs, heightening the sensation of where he touched me, dulling the sting and replacing it with something new, something thrilling.

“I need you to go slow,” I whispered, unable to hide the nervous tremor in my voice. “Much slower than before. Is… is that alright with you?”

Arthur exhaled a shuddering breath, his gills fluttering against my ribs. I couldn’t tell if it was from excitement, anticipation, or the sheer effort of holding himself back. His tail coiled around my calf, pulling me closer, holding me steady.

“Yes,” he groaned, the single word dripping with need. “However you wish to have me. I will give it to you.”

His vow sent a molten heat through me, pooling deep in my core. I had imagined this before—anal, double penetration—but I had never trusted someone enough to try it. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would happen like this.

With him.

Arthur reached between us, his fingers curling around one of his cocks, guiding it between my thighs while the other pressed insistently against my bottom. With slow, deliberate motions, he rocked his hips, letting them glide back and forth—one thick length sliding over my swollen, aching clit, sending jolts of pleasure through my body, while the other traced the valley between my cheeks, teasing the tight entrance with every pass.

A shudder wracked through me, my body caught between tension and longing. Arthur’s grip on my waist tightened, anchoring me against him as his other hand found my breast. His fingers were both firm and gentle, rolling my nipple between them, kneading my flesh in slow, languid strokes. The contrast of sensations had me trembling in his hold.

“Which one do you want first?” he rumbled against my neck, his breath hot against my damp skin.

My breath hitched as I reached behind me, fingers wrapping around the thick cock nestled against my back. I gave it a teasing squeeze, feeling the way it pulsed against my palm.

“This one,” I whispered, my voice husky with desire.

The water rippled around us as a deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled through his chest. “That’s my girl.”

Arthurs grip on me shifted, steady but unrelenting, as he tipped me forward slightly. The water rose up to my chin, forcing me to tilt my head back to keep from sinking beneath the surface. I barely had time to register the change before I felt the blunt tip of him pressing against my entrance, nudging cautiously.

A sharp hiss escaped his gills, a primal sound that sent a delicious shiver through me.

I gasped, letting out a quiet, startled yelp as a new, overwhelming pressure spread through me. I had never been so acutely aware of this part of my body before, of how tight and untouched I was.

A large, webbed hand slipped down my torso, fingers finding my clit and rubbing slow, torturous circles. The pleasure warred with the ache, sending my body into a dizzying spiral of sensation. My muscles instinctively clenched, trying to resist the burn of his thick length pressing deeper, stretching me open with the first inch.

“F-fuck, Arthur,” I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulder. “I—I don’t think I can—”

“You can,” Arthur growled, his voice dark with restraint. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

He sank another inch, and my breath hitched, my mind going blank with the sheer intensity of it. It was too much, not enough, my body on the verge of being split apart yet craving more.

A shaky whine crawled up my throat as I arched back against him, my body struggling between resistance and surrender.

“Hold onto me,” he murmured against my neck, his voice softer now, coaxing.

I reached up, my arms winding around his neck, clinging to him as if he were my only tether to reality. My eyes squeezed shut, my breath coming in shallow, unsteady gasps.

Arthur tutted softly, his voice a low, soothing murmur. “Sweetheart, you gotta relax. Take a deep breath for me.”

His tone was impossibly gentle, melting through my tension like warm honey, making my stomach flip. Gone was the primal, possessive animal that had taken me like a man starved—now, in its place, was something just as powerful but infinitely more tender. A gentle beast, guiding me through the motions, patient and careful as if I were something precious to be unraveled slowly.

I sucked in a deep, shaky breath, willing my body to obey, to loosen its desperate hold on him. But it was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Every fiber of me was wound tight, clenching around him, fighting the stretch, even as I tried to surrender. The slippery feel of his cock, gliding with an otherworldly softness, was a small mercy. I was incredibly grateful in that moment that he was not solid like a human.

“Again,” he coaxed, his fingers stroking soothing circles over my hips. Then, in a teasing lilt, he added, “Unless you need me to breathe for you.”

A shiver ran through me at the idea.

His grip tightened slightly, grounding me. “If I push any harder, I’m gonna hurt ya sweetheart. Try to focus your attention here,” he patted the swell of my ass, his touch firm yet affectionate.

“It’s all I can fucking think about!” The words tumbled out in a breathless flurry, and Arthur let out a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating through his chest.

And it—oh fuck—it felt good.

“There you go, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice thick with praise and want. “Fuck, you feel incredible. You’re takin’ me so well.”

He sank another inch, and a shaky gasp left my lips as something in me finally gave way, my muscles easing, accommodating his size. The sharp edge of discomfort dulled into something else—something deeper, heavier.

“D-do that again,” I stammered, breathless.

“Hmm?” He rumbled, his chest still pressed firmly to my back.

“That—that vibration,” I choked out, my head tipping back as he pulled me tighter against him, his cock pressing deeper, rubbing hard against my inner walls.

Arthur’s lips brushed the shell of my ear, his breath warm as he cooed, “Oh, I see.”

Suddenly, his purring flared to life, and I cried out as the vibration sent ripples of pleasure through my body. It wasn’t just in his chest—it was everywhere, resonating through me, inside me, making my nerves light up like fireworks. Somehow, I could feel the pulse deep in my core, as if the sensation traveled through the places where I was stretched around him, amplifying every twitch, every shiver. A strangled moan tore from my lips, my body shuddering against his, and I silently cursed him for not doing this earlier. I had never realized just how closely connected those muscles were, how each vibration sent a shockwave straight through me.

Arthur felt me melt beneath the sensation, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, and he took advantage of it—sinking deeper until he bottomed out against my ass.

A sharp gasp echoed through the room, mingling with the deep, guttural groan that rumbled against my neck. “So fucking tight,” he breathed, his voice thick with restraint, with need.

I had always thought anal could be mildly pleasurable, but this—this was something else entirely. I wasn’t just tolerating it. I was enjoying it. No, I was lost in it. If he kept this up—if he pressed inside my pussy too, stretching me so utterly, so completely. I was sure I would come so hard I might fall apart in his arms.

Then Arthur moved—oh, he moved.

Slow, methodical, controlled. Like he was barely holding himself back, honing in on every subtle cue my body gave him. Testing my limits with precision, ensuring there was no pain—only pleasure. He withdrew slowly, the sensation nearly undoing me as he pulled out until just his tip remained. Then, with a firm grip, he slid his other cock between my thighs, positioning me just right.

And then, finally—he sank me back down.

A keening sound wrenched from my throat as he speared me on both cocks, rolling his hips up at the same time, filling me inch by agonizing inch until he was seated deep inside me. It was a stretch unlike anything I had ever felt before, a blissful, unbearable fullness that sent waves of heat rolling through my limbs. My head tipped back against his shoulder, a deep, shuddering moan rising from somewhere in my chest—a sound I hadn't even known I was capable of making.

I felt him everywhere.

I could taste him on my tongue, could feel the ocean in my veins, the tide of his body racing through me like horses galloping through white-capped waves.

I was still sore, my pussy clenching around him as pleasure and pain tangled together, stars dancing across my vision. I tried to adjust, to find some semblance of control, but anyone who’s ever been fucked hard understands the delicious sting of being stretched too soon, too deep, before you’re quite ready. Well, maybe not everyone—but it was true for me. It was a good kind of pain, the kind that made my toes curl, that had my breath stuttering and my fingers digging into his arms, desperate for more.

And with the addition of his second cock, this was the fullest I’d ever been in my life.

I could tell by the way Arthur was shaking, his grip bruising on my hips, that he was just as overwhelmed as I was. That my body, clenching tight around him, was driving him to the edge as surely as he was unraveling me.

“Do you trust me?” The words were rough, bitten out through clenched teeth, barely restrained.

A silly question. Of course I did. More than anything.

“Yes,” I whispered, my lips trembling against his jaw. “Always.”

It was a slow glide, so wet and effortless that the friction was almost an afterthought—until he pulled back and slid in again, and I felt every ridge of him, each textured bump dragging against my walls, sending shivers rolling through my spine. I could count them, could map each one with the breathless rhythm of his thrusts. Every slow, deliberate movement stretched me open, coaxing me into surrender until there wasn’t a single trace of discomfort left—only pleasure, slick and consuming.

“Oh, Arthur!” I cried, the sound tumbling from my lips, raw and unfiltered.

There was only pressure now, incredible and unrelenting, filling me so completely that it stole the air from my lungs. From every angle, in every part of me, I felt him—felt the way he claimed me, the way he kissed my soul with every deep, languid stroke.

I wasn’t sure when my head tilted back onto his chest, when my lips parted on a silent moan, but Arthur seized the moment. His mouth was on mine in an instant, devouring, his tongue plunging deep, licking into me with slow, intoxicating strokes. He nipped at my bottom lip, teasing, pulling a whimper from my throat before swallowing it down like he was starved for the taste of me.

“Breathe, my girl,” he commanded, his voice thick with heat. He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath hot against my lips. “You like when I fuck you like this?”

“Please,” was all I could manage, a desperate, breathless plea. I needed more. I was teetering on the edge of something earth-shattering, something vast and uncontrollable, and I didn’t know how to fall into it. I only knew that Arthur could take me there.

A low growl rumbled through his chest, vibrating against my back, and then—fuck—he thrust into me harder. Not as rough as before, but there was force now, a controlled hunger, a restraint that made the ache even sweeter.

I made a sound I had never heard before, something deep and unrestrained, as he gripped my hip and drove into me again. His tail coiled around my calf, tightening possessively, anchoring me to him.

Hard. Harder. Deep and devastating as he bottomed out inside me again and again.

Arthur pressed a broad, calloused hand to my belly, his webbed fingers splaying wide as he felt himself move inside me, as if mesmerized by the way my body took him in. His breath came out in ragged, shuddering pants, hot against my neck, before his sharp teeth grazed my skin, nipping, teasing.

“You’re gonna make me come so hard,” he growled, his voice rough, nearly broken. “You’re—fuck, you’re everything to me.”

“I’m s-so close. Please, come with me, Arthur,” I choked out, my fingers digging into his arms, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.

A low, pained whimper crawled up his throat as he pressed his forehead to my shoulder, his whole body trembling with the force of his restraint. “I know, pretty girl, I know,” he rasped, his voice frayed at the edges. “Just a little more. I—I don’t wanna hurt you. It’s—h-hard not to lose control when you’re squeezin’ me like that.”

I gasped as he rolled his hips again, deeper, slower, torturing us both.

His pace faltered as my body reacted to his words—the sincerity, the raw, aching need woven into every syllable. The guttural rasp of his voice, thick with strain and barely restrained hunger, sent a wave of pleasure coursing through me. It tore through my veins, white-hot and all-consuming, until I shattered around him. My vision blurred, my body trembling as pleasure surged like wildfire, licking at every nerve, setting me ablaze.

Somewhere in the haze, I felt him follow me over the edge.

Arthur let out a broken string of curses, his breath ragged and desperate against my shoulder. His entire body quivered, his muscles rigid as he fought the primal instinct to lose himself completely—to rut into me with reckless abandon, to bury himself as deep as I could take and spill every drop of his pleasure inside me.

“Th-then lose control,” I whispered, my voice trembling, a plea wrapped in a breathy moan. My fingers dug into his arms, nails dragging down the hard lines of his body. “Bite me, Arthur. M-mark me as—as yours.”

His breath hitched. “What?”

“S’okay, honey,” I murmured, my voice dripping with something sweet and sinful. “Just let go. I can take it. Give yourself to me.”

A sharp, tortured cry ripped from Arthur’s throat, his entire body shuddering against mine. And then—I felt it.

His teeth, sinking deep into the muscle of my shoulder, sharp and unyielding, branding me with his need. The sting of pain bled into pleasure so sharp it stole the breath from my lungs. My body clenched around him, gripping him like I never wanted to let go, and the mix of sensations sent me spiraling into oblivion.

The warmth of him filled me, deep and hot, as his release spilled into me, claiming me in every way possible. The sheer force of it ripped another scream from my lips, his name tumbling from my throat until it was raw.

I was drowning in him—his touch, his breath, the way he trembled against me as he came undone. And I had never felt more owned by him than I did at that moment.

My mate. My Arthur.

Arthur soothed the ache with his tongue, spreading that thick, healing mucilage over the wound as he lapped up the blood before it could trail too far down my arm. I sagged against his chest, eyes fluttering shut, my cheek pressed to his warm skin as the last of my tears dried. My body still pulsed with aftershocks, every nerve alight, and I felt the slow retreat of his cocks, softening as they slipped from me. Arthur’s tail trembled against my leg, his muscles taut with the lingering overstimulation, as if the pleasure had unraveled him just as much as it had me.

Turning me in his arms, Arthur held me close. His touch was unbearably soft in the wake of everything we’d just done. His lips followed the damp trail of my tears, kissing them away one by one as if he could erase the overwhelming pleasure, the raw emotion, the sheer intensity of it all with his mouth alone. His hands, rough and warm, cradled my face, fingers stroking over my cheeks with a tenderness that made my chest ache.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his southern drawl thick and deep. “You alright?”

I nodded weakly, still floating in that hazy space between pleasure and exhaustion. My limbs felt boneless, my body buzzing, hypersensitive to every little touch. Arthur hummed in satisfaction, shifting us until I was nestled against him, my legs draped around his torso. His tail curled loosely around my ankle, still trembling from the aftershocks.

“Y’were so good for me,” he praised, brushing his lips over my temple. “Took me so damn well. My strong, beautiful girl.”

A small sound caught in my throat, something between a sigh and a whimper. Arthur’s chest rumbled with a deep, satisfied purr, the sound vibrating through me, comforting and grounding. He cupped the back of my head, guiding it to rest against his shoulder as his other hand traced soothing circles along my spine.

“Still with me?” he teased gently, though I could hear the genuine concern laced in his tone.

I gave a breathless laugh, weak but real. “Mmhmm… just—floating.”

Arthur’s smile pressed against my hair. “Yeah? Think you can handle another.” 

The teasing lilt in his voice let me know he wasn't serious. Though I don’t think he could survive another round even if he tried. Laughter bubbled up despite my exhaustion. I shook my head, too content, too warm, too wrapped up in him to move just yet. He seemed to understand, settling us deeper into the nest of his arms, letting me bask in the steady rise and fall of his chest.

For a while, we just stayed like that, tangled together in the quiet. Arthur floated on his back as I rested on his chest. His fingers wove through my hair, his breathing steady, grounding me in a way that nothing else ever had.

Eventually, he broke the silence, voice low and reverent. “Ain’t never had nothin’ like this,” he admitted, almost to himself. “Never wanted someone so bad. Needed someone like—like the world was just beginnin’ to make sense. You know?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, pressing a slow kiss to his collarbone. “I feel the same way, Arthur.”

Arthur let out a shuddering breath, his arms tightening around me. “All mine,” he murmured, lips brushing against my hair.

I smiled against his skin. “All yours.”

As sleep began to pull me under, wrapped in his warmth, I had no regrets. 

I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

AN: Did we survive?! Because there were times I feared that beautiful creature was going to kill us with those cocks, not that I'm complaining. Woof, this chapter was such a horny beast and I don't even feel like I've tamed it. There will be more smut chapters, but nothing this lengthy. This was basically a cluster fuck of exploring kinks. And for whatever reason, I really wanted to put it all in one chapter. I love torturing myself. Anyways, its time to get back to the plot! Thank you all so much for the lovely comments and support!!

[caycanteven]

Sketchin' out and conceptualizing this hot business drider-skeleton guy. As a treat 🍭

My Swapfell!Sans is named Milo, short for Milord (aka Black as generally known by most.) For my enjoyment of monsters and cause I was inspired by others, he is a Drider teehee. Bro makes high fashion ✨

[cod-dump]

Vampire!Soap: *standing outside of Price’s office*

Price, knowing he’s there: I need the report on my desk not outside my door

Vampire!Soap: Please, Cap, just say I can come in. Ghost had me outside his office for thirty minutes threatening me for not bringing his tea in

Price: Ah. Fine, you can come in

Vampire!Soap: *sobs in relief before he runs in and gives Price the report*

Vampire!Soap: He’s such a dick

Price: Eh, he has some… history with fangs

Vampire!Soap: His ex tried to suck blood from his di-

Price: Johnny! No! God! Why does your mind go straight in the gutter whenever we talk about him?!

Vampire!Soap: Big sexy demon. It’s that simple

Price: *groans*

[murmurlilies]

they saw you from across the bar and hated your vibe 💔

(feat. my boy Cass and @vasira96's girl Lailah 👀❤️)

[fairsweetlonging]

i'm so weak for original luo binghe/shen yuan where he succeeds in stealing bingmei's shizun to have for himself.

maybe they cross over in the dream realm (like in the punishment protocol), and he sees this other version of shen qingqiu, standing beside the koi pond of qing jing peak, looking calm and healthy and alive, and different, just slightly different. and when this shen qingqiu looks up and sees binghe, he doesn't sneer and attack like in nightmares, nor does he try to run like in the punishment dreams—he smiles. he smiles at binghe, and calls his name. he looks... happy, to see him.

confused, yet intrigued, bingge indulges a little by humoring this weird dream version of his old shizun, meeting him by the pond, and while it's the same face it's not the sharpness of an ice cold beauty, it's warm and soft and tender, even more so when shen qingqiu plucks a peach blossom from the tree and tucks it in binghe's hair, when he leans over and presses the pretty curve of his mouth against binghe's cheek, when he calls him "binghe" instead of "beast".

at first bingge thinks this must be a dream; he's a mere spectator, saying little to nothing at all, watching quietly as shen qingqiu chatters about some beast that liu qingge brought him (bingge was a bit surprised to hear that name, he died so long ago), sitting down with him, not moving when shen qingqiu leans against his side.

then shen qingqiu disappears, and bingge is alone again. he isn't sad, or even angry, he's just confused. he usually has full control over his dream realms, what just happened? but then again, he usually enjoys tormenting shen qingqiu, so he hadn't interrupted the man before, and after he realized it was different, he never bothered changing it. this might be just a fluke?

it happens again. shen qingqiu is a little more quiet, this time, a little tired. they sit together at the pond's edge again, shen qingqiu leaning against him, and this time bingge takes him into his arms, just to see what happens. shen qingqiu reacts positively, snuggling closer, but he shouldn't. this has never been something bingge wanted, nothing he ever even thought about, it makes no sense.

then somewhere somehow he realizes that through xin mo he's transporting a different shizun from a different world to his dream realm, and when he realizes that somewhere out there there is a shizun that smiles and laughs and cares for him, loves him.... he wants it.

so he does what he always does when he sees something he wants: he takes it.

next time they're together in the dream realm, he's prepared. he silently hooks his claws into shen qingqiu's (ridiculously unprotected) consciousness, using xin mo's power to track him down and create a rift. he lands in a cosy little bedroom, with a large bed and trinkets on the shelves and a ton of books. shen qingqiu is still asleep, curled around a large pillow but alone. whoever he thinks bingge is in his dreams isn't here. and well, if they're not here to protect him, clearly they don't care enough to keep him (bingge would never leave him out in the open like this, his sweet, naive, stupid shizun, laid out like a treat for anyone to snatch up). he makes sure shen qingqiu is deep asleep before he lifts him up and takes him back, closing the rift behind him.

[tart-miano]

angry that your parody has a degree and you don't, victor

[mr-squiggley-poufs]

Tired of pretending that modern au Liu Qingge would be a health guru gym bro with a 10 step skin care routine who only eats the healthiest most organic food or only drinks protein shakes

The Liu Qingge I know uses 3-in-one and doesn't wash his face before eating a snack-sized bag of chips for his daily meal and happens to be naturally buff