#human Morgan

[warningsine]

[pinep-ne]

If one more person misconstrues Arthur's journal entry about how he should have married Abigail as genuine romantic attraction I will actually lose it. OBVIOUSLY IT WAS TO SUPPORT HER AND JACK AND FILL THE ROLE JOHN RAN FROM!!! Marriage for the sake of convenience and support is nothing new folks. It was not lust nor love. I personally don't even think Arthur had anything with Abigail at any point. They were just two troubled souls that had leant on each other in a desperate situation. Y'all are stirring a hollow pot talking about how John would've felt reading that entry. He probably didn't even give a damn because he knew well Arthur's insistence on giving Abby and her boy at least some semblance of stability.

​

[dafna-winchester]

Final sketches for my December SAD ( sketch a day) challenge 🙏

[tadpole-apocalypse]

They’re talking shit about elves 😌

[atdawn]

HUMANS 3.06

[animasola86]

🦇 FANGS TO REMEMBER

m!vampires x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 3.6k

On your way back to the party, you come across a graveyard. Unbeknownst to you, you are trespassing onto someone's property, and they are not happy about it. Or are they?

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Vampires! Noncon/dubcon! Threesome! Spitroasting! Biting! (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: This is part 5 of my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7 This is the continuation of OPTION 3/PART 4 - but can be read individually, let me just set the scene:

CONTEXT: You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and after drinking a strange drink, you decide to get some fresh air, running into a werewolf who instantly decides to knot and breed you, and after that ordeal is done, you flee from him, and come across a graveyard...

ADDITIONAL WARNING: This one is very dark. It's more noncon than dubcon, so if you don't like the themes, you can skip it (imagine something dark happening) and read the next part here.

You look around, but there's only one way forward: through the graveyard. It's too dark to see anything else, no maze, no garden, no house, you can't even see the cabin anymore you just left. The night is eerily quiet, no critters, nothing. Even the wind seems to take a break for now.

Inhaling deeply, you hug your arms around your body and take a step through the large wrought-iron gates, looking left and right at the rows of crooked tomb stones. A strange mist wafts close to the ground, giving off an otherworldly glow. The moon is long gone it seems, the sky too cloudy to show any stars, but still you can see the various shapes around you.

You're not easily spooked, usually, but being alone in a cemetery at night makes your imagination run wild, wilder than it has been all evening. The slightest movement makes you flinch as you tread carefully along the path, goosebumps rippling over your exposed skin whenever something brushes against your bare legs. The shirt is soft and warm, but in the end not long enough after all, no matter how hard you tug at its hem.

A sudden shuffling sound makes your blood run cold and you freeze on the spot, your heart beating out of your chest, cold fear gripping your limbs. It came from behind one of the larger tomb stones, decorated with a small angel statue. You stare into the darkness, pressing your lips together to keep the noises from spilling past them. Probably just an animal. Your mind is surely playing tricks on you.

But when the same sound comes from right behind you, you whirl around with a shriek, stumbling back as you see a large black shadow blocking your view. You expect to fall onto your butt, but something keeps you from it, another shadow – and this one has hands. Hands that grip your arms, holding you tightly. Another scream rips from your throat as you thrash about, trying to get away, before another hand finds its way to your mouth, muffling all the noises you want to let out.

Your eyes are wide when the shadows around you form into the shapes of two big men, pale in the eerie light, tall and muscular, dressed surprisingly well for creatures that lurk in the dark.

“What do we have here?” the one with his hand on your mouth says, tilting his head, giving you a smile that makes his handsome face look almost diabolical. “A little rabbit? In our cemetery?”

“Did you get lost, little one?” the other man, the one behind you, whispers as he leans his head closer, rubbing his smooth cheek against yours. It's cold to the touch.

You stiffen, unable to do or say anything. Maybe you're still dreaming, or again. But the way these men grab you feels too real. They are strong. Intimidatingly so. You swallow hard, gasping when the one behind you gives you a deep sniff.

“Ugh, she reeks of dog,” he says with a drawl. “Had some fun with the beast, didn't you?”

Suddenly you feel a hand between your legs, a cold touch, coaxing a muffled yelp out of you as you feel probing fingers right against your warm crotch. “Huh, yeah, he got to her alright. Filled to the brim...” He pulls his fingers away and raises them to your face, and you can see the thick substance coating them. “Too bad, really, I was looking forward to ravaging that sweet cunt...”

You glare at him, both in shock and indignation. He pulls his hand from your mouth and shoves his soiled fingers between your lips. A muffled grunt of protest slips from your throat, but your attempts to get away are futile as the other man still holds your arms tightly. A bitter and slightly salty taste fills your mouth, but with how the man presses his digits onto your tongue you can't do anything but flick it around them, licking them clean.

“At least she seems quite obedient,” he muses with a menacing tone, watching you closely, moving his fingers in and out of your mouth.

“We can still have some fun with her,” the man behind you says quietly, his nose nuzzling your neck. “He hasn't marked her yet. She's fair game.”

“Splendid,” the other replies with a laugh and pulls his fingers away with a wet popping sound. You quickly swallow the spit gathered on your tongue and lick your quivering lips. “So, little bunny, do you wanna try to run? I would die for a little hunt... if I wasn't already dead,” he adds with a reverberating laugh that makes you shiver deeply.

You just stare at him, your chest rising and falling faster. “I don't think she'll come far,” the man rubbing his hands over your arms retorts. “She seems weakened. The beast clearly got her good. Let's just enjoy her until her heart gives out, hm?”

You gasp at the implication, immediately silenced by a hand reaching out to grab your chin. “Fine. It is already enough to hear this beautiful beat,” the man in front of you whispers as he leans closer. “Are you scared, rabbit?”

Your eyes dart over his pale face, and when he bares his teeth and licks them slowly, you stare at his pointy canines. After having just met a real werewolf (or so you think, it's all so fuzzy in your head right now), you shouldn't be surprised to meet actual vampires, in a graveyard no less, pale and cold and strong, with sharp fangs and insatiable appetites, but your body still reacts as if you were indeed just a bunny cornered by two predators. A tiny whimper escapes your throat. “Please...”

“Hmm? Please what? Use your words, darling!” the man behind you snarls, rubbing his nose against your neck before you feel his lips on your pulse, nibbling teasingly.

“Please let me go...” you press out.

“Not going to happen, sweetheart,” he replies, his low voice muffled. “You came to us. Walked right onto our property. It's our right to do with you whatever we like...”

You squirm in his hold when he laps his tongue up your neck. The other man watches you, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip before he suddenly leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours. You gasp, staring at him. “You won't regret it, little one,” he breathes against you. His skin feels cold, but the close proximity makes your cheeks burn up badly. “We'll give you a good time, don't worry your pretty little head!”

And suddenly you are being lifted, nausea rolling over you as you find yourself somehow floating in the air. It's all a blur at this point. Footsteps crunch over gravel and dead leaves, thump against stone plates, old hinges screech as a door is being opened. The fresh air becomes stale and dusty, the light even darker. You move down a set of stairs, but you can't move, your head is swimming, your insides tensing up in a way that borders on painful. You can barely breathe, and you have no idea why.

Candle light flickers to life when the men take you through a large wooden door. Your eyes blink into focus slowly. You seem to be in some sort of mausoleum, old looking, corners full of cobwebs, aged statues lining the walls. In the middle of the round room, there are two stone coffins, both of them open, their heavy stone slabs pushed to the side. You swallow hard, trying to see this as a scene, a decorated room fit for an elaborate Halloween party.

But somehow you doubt this is part of it.

“Excuse the mess,” one of the men says as he walks to the coffins. “We didn't expect company tonight...”

He raises a hand – and as you're being set down on your feet again, you witness how the heavy slab moves seemingly on its own or by a strange unseen force, leaving you even more confused. Both coffins are closed now, and before you can question anything else, you are being draped over the short side of one of them, stomach pressed to the cold stone, arms and legs hanging off the edges. A groan escapes you.

“Let's clean her up first, I can't stand the stink of wolf,” one man says as he steps behind you, pushing your legs further apart. You feel a strange coldness rushing through your body, like water, but not really wet, a sensation that leaves you choking on your own spit. “There, better. Don't you feel better too, darling? No longer stuffed full of disgusting beast semen? Well, I don't want to kink shame or anything, maybe you are into being bred, but we do like our holes squeaky clean – for us to soil all over again.”

You squirm on the stone slab, your hands trying to find purchase on the smooth surface, your legs kicking helplessly, but before you can do anything, the other man steps in front of you, grabbing your chin and lifting your head up. You find yourself face-to-face with his throbbing cock. They don't seem to waste any time, huh? He presses his thumb and finger into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You issue a groan of protest that is quickly muffled by his surprisingly warm member. You have no choice but to close your lips around it. (Even if you wanted to bite down on him, you couldn't, his hand is still holding your jaw open.)

“Good bunny, you know what to do, hm?” he tells you, slowly rolling his hips against you, his tip scraping along your gums, teasing at the back of your throat. Saliva pools on your tongue, and you feel the need to swallow it before it drips past your lips. When you do, he groans quietly. “Oh, yes, like that. Do that again.” Somehow his words seem to encourage you, and you swallow around him once more, straining your throat enough for tears to fill your eyes.

Behind you, you feel two cold hands rubbing up and down your thighs, gripping them, pulling them apart, before they slip up your rear and push the large shirt out of the way. “So I assume after your little werewolf ordeal, your poor little cunt is a little tired, wouldn't you agree?” he rasps teasingly. “Good thing you have another hole, huh, my sweet?”

You let out a series of muffled cries around the cock in your mouth when you feel probing fingers between your ass cheeks. “Mhmmnngh!” you croak out, thrashing on the stone slab, trying to get away. A sudden slap on your soft rear makes you howl, but ultimately stops your fidgeting. Your skin burns and throbs horribly. “Shh, relax, rabbit. You can take it. See?”

Before you can react, you feel a strange pressure against your sphincter, a teasing touch but unrelenting, and suddenly you have a finger in your ass. Your tight muscles clench around the thick digit, and you wriggle in your compromised position, almost gagging yourself on the dick between your lips when you push yourself against the man's groin and his cock deeper into your mouth. A jerk goes through your body, your hands fruitlessly trying to hold onto anything.

You don't feel in control of your limbs anymore, it's strange. You can feel everything, but you can't move, only rock back and forth on the coffin. The man behind you pushes his finger deeper, then pulls it out and replaces it with two. The stretch hurts, and you let out a muffled wail. Your noises seem to encourage him when he moves them in and out faster, deeper, a hard press against your protesting muscles.

Meanwhile the man holding your jaw increases the pace of his hips slamming against your face. His cock pushes deep, and you gag violently when he breaches your throat, your body convulsing, spit filling your mouth. He pulls back slightly, allows you to breathe and cough and swallow, but then repeats the motion, and you gag again, and the cycle continues. Your head is spinning by the fifth time he forced his length down your throat, and you feel too weak to protest anymore.

Not even when you notice that the man playing with your ass has added another finger and is plunging his hand hard against your rear, a dizzying rhythm, forceful, stretching you for whatever comes next. You can guess and it scares you. But there's nothing you can do as he suddenly pulls his fingers out with a wet pop and you feel his cockhead pressing against your slightly gaping hole. A deep grunt escapes him when he rocks his pelvis forward, sinking into your depths without mercy, carving his way through your impossible tightness.

Your muffled scream is overpowered by loud gurgling noises as the cock in your mouth pistons in and out fast, always pushing deep, bulging your neck, his crotch slapping into your face with each thrust. You are pushed and pulled, rocked back and forth, impaled front and back, cold hands holding your head up or digging into your hips as the two men use you for their pleasure, their grunts filling the space around you.

Despite their rough handling, you feel a strange heat growing inside you, and you realize that with every slam into your ass or snap into your throat, you are rubbed over the rough stone, and your clit quickly feels raw and swollen from the added stimulation. Moaning into the rapidly moving cock in your mouth, you focus on the good feelings, not the burning friction in your rear, not the rawness of your throat, the lack of air or the helplessness, just the bliss that tries to fight through the pain and discomfort.

But before you can even imagine any edge to fall over, they suddenly slow down, languid strokes that push deep until they stop altogether, one cock buried deep in your ass, the other pushed all the way down your throat as pubic hair tickles your nostrils. Your eyes roll back, your lungs burn, your body spasms fruitlessly. Groans echo in your ear.

“Let's turn her around,” one says.

“You wanna switch places too?” the other replies, almost a little breathlessly.

“Sure, I bet she doesn't mind a little ass to mouth action, huh, sugar?”

A loud slap against your bruised rear makes you gag violently, and as spit fills your mouth and tears stream down your face, you are being rotated on the cold stone slab, arms still hanging limply to the ground while your legs twitch as they're being pushed up and against your heaving chest, opening you up further. Cold air brushes over your exposed skin, and for a short moment they let go of you, cocks pull back, leaving trails of stickiness all over your face and crotch.

You are lightheaded, barely able to function, and that moment of reprieve is short-lived. You didn't even get the chance to swallow or breathe properly before a cock is being shoved back into your mouth. Hands curl around the back of your head, holding it up as the stiff and slimy length is pushed straight into your bruised throat. You can only croak out a muffled grunt before a heavy pair of balls slam against your nose.

“Tongue out,” the man above you orders, and you comply, hoping it'll be easier with your mouth wide open and your tongue extended to guide the throbbing cock in and out. “Good. Just like that. Look at that neck bulging. Ugh,” he continues, groaning as he rams deep into your throat and rests there, cutting off any air flow you may have had earlier. You squirm on the coffin, limbs twitching helplessly.

Before you drift off into unconsciousness, he pulls back and slaps your cheek. The pain drags you back immediately. “No fainting, rabbit, we need you awake for this.” You cough hoarsely, spit and precum flying through the air. You're too weak to open your eyes, and it doesn't matter anyway. His hand is on your neck now, squeezing slightly. “Ahh, yes, listen to that frantic heartbeat,” he rasps, slowly slipping his cock back between your lips. “Are you afraid to choke, hm? Or does that turn you on?”

You gag when he presses into your throat slowly, your whole body jerking against the man on the other side, who's holding your legs open and pressed to your chest. You are allowed to cough and swallow before it happens all over again, again and again, and while one man fucks your throat with reckless abandon, the other rubs his cold hand down your mound, teasing at your swollen clit, parting your puffy labia, but then he dips his finger into your ass, completely ignoring your hungrily clenching cunt.

There's no further preparation, and a moment later he shoves his cock into your tight hole, making you wail against the dick in your throat. He lets go of your legs, causing them to flop about wildly with each thrust as he starts pounding into you hard and fast, then you feel his long fingers on your burrowed shirt. You barely register how it's ripped open, but you do feel those cold palms pressing onto your soft mounds, pebbling your skin, your nipples hardening instantly. The touch is almost soothing among all the other things happening to you.

It's a whirlwind of sensations, the lack of air and strain to your throat and jaw on one side, the rough friction and burning heat and hard pummeling on the other. You are moved back and forth on the stone surface, a limp body to be used. You don't know how long this is going on, but these guys seem to have incredible stamina. They just won't stop.

Whenever you feel as if you're slipping into the welcoming darkness, you are slapped and brought back, your cheeks burning and throbbing, but it's only one of many aches by now. You can't decide which is worse, the suffocating stretch when a cock buries deep into your throat, or the rough pummeling of sore muscles when the other cock rams into your tight ass. It's all a blur in the end.

The men are groaning and grunting, snapping their hips against you, uncaring of your discomforts. They're chasing their own orgasms while you remain teetering far away from any sort of release. The room is filled with loud squelching noises, gurgles and slurps, slapping of skin against skin, a soundscape that seems to be your only form of stimulation. Not even the cold hands on your breasts push you further to the edge, they are just there, holding you, groping hard, anchoring you as you are pushed back and forth.

At least they have a rhythm now, in and out in an alternating way, almost like a seesaw, in goes the one in your throat, out moves the one in your ass, and then it's the other way around. And somehow you find comfort in it as you lie there, held in place, unable to move, your eyelids fluttering, tears and snot drying on your sweat-slick skin.

It's then that you feel cold fingers brushing down your quivering belly, down, down, until they rub against your clit, and you arch your back, inhale that cock in your throat, jerk your hips against the one pounding into your ass, and you come, clenching down hard, stiffening, eyes rolling back, bliss exploding through the veils of darkness.

You feel like floating, leaning into the wave of pleasure that washes over you as you let it all happen. And as you do, the men's motions grow jerkier, rougher, faster, and they come too, almost at the same time. Cum shoots down your throat, and you'd expect to feel the same sensation in your ass, but the man there pulls out and empties himself all over your mound and stomach, all the way to your neck. The pressure in your throat loosens then, and similar spurts of wet warmth hit your face.

Raspy breaths make it past your soiled, swollen lips as you lie there with your eyes closed. Strong hands move you until you're lying fully on your back, legs outstretched, arms put at the sides of your body, head supported by the hard stone slab beneath you. Cold fingers trail your skin.

“I wish we could keep her,” you hear a quiet voice that barely makes it past the cotton in your head.

“I'm not risking another war with those savages just because of one puny human...” says a different voice. “We'll find another one.”

“Let's feed and get her back onto the path.”

You blink your eyes open, noticing the two men, the two vampires, standing over you, staring down at you from both sides of the coffin. Their teeth are bared, fangs glistening in the swaying candle light, and before you can do anything, they lean down, one goes straight for your neck, his pointy canines sinking deeply into your skin, and you feel it, despite your fucked-out state, you feel the cold crashing through your veins.

The same sensation happens between your legs, on one of your inner thighs as the other bites down into your soft flesh. You whimper soundlessly, throat hoarse and sore, body too weak to move against the assault. They suck your blood noisily, like the thirsty monsters they are, and you just let it happen, again, what other choice do you have? Your head is spinning as you feel the cold spread through your trembling limbs.

And the world fades...

1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7

End notes: The last part is here!

By the way, this is a nod towards my standalone Vampire oneshot Down the Rabbit Hole which also has dubcon elements and more than one vampire, but isn't as dark.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Nerd Alpha!Klaus Stalking his Omega

(Klaus is a bit of a stalker in this one but not in a creepy or Yandere way, he’s just a sweet Alpha with no social skills)

He had caught her scent the first time in the quad and followed the scent all the way to the library where he found an Omega surrounded by strong Alphas who were clearly trying to get her attention.

Klaus had known that he had to have her but he also knew he couldn’t compete with the large football players that were after her and so he sent her a bouquet of roses. The note attached told her of his interest in her and she actually found it quite sweet, flattered by the completely new approach from an Alpha. Usually they’re all in your face and huge assholes trying to show you that they’re the better option but “NM” was trying to ‘woo’ her without being intimidating and mean. She found she actually loved it.

The next day she got another note and it was lovely,

‘I cannot get your sweet smile out of my mind, I wish more than anything it was me you were smiling at. Seeing the sadness on your face as those asshole Alphas surround you hurts me to witness, your face should only ever be happy. I have fallen in love with your sweet scent, honeysuckle and warm caramel haunt my nose in a way I didn’t know possible and I do hope that my scent pleases you the same.’

He had sent her a stuffed wolf that was covered in a strong Alpha smell letting her know that he had deliberately scented it, the smell of Pine Trees, Whiskey and Leather being overwhelmingly delicious to her and actually making her a bit light headed as she sat on her bed huffing the scent of the stuffed wolf and feeling the slick begin dripping from between her legs.

She had placed the stuffed wolf into her nest and hoped that her Alpha would introduce himself today but he did not, he had left her another rose and a blanket that was heavily covered in his scent.

She was a bit confused as to why he wouldn’t come and find her when she accepted the stuffy, no Omega in the world would keep the scent of an Alpha in her living space if she didn’t love it but either way she laid the blanket into her nest and snuggled up with it after class.

She received things at her dorm every evening after that, except occasionally for the breakfast he would send to her when he knew she hadn’t slept very well.

He had watched her for 2 weeks before the morning that she didn’t show up in her first class period, she always showed up and he was worried now.

After that class he ditched his next lecture and brought his Omega a basket full of snacks and a new blanket as well. He stood around the corner as he always did only to see the door open and get hit by her scent 45 feet away which could only happen in one case…she was in heat.

The fact that she had opened the door at all was concerning and he couldn’t stop the growl that built in his chest at her wonderful scent.

‘Are we ever going to meet or is this going to be our relationship forever?’ She wondered and Klaus winced at the sound of her harsh voice from her heat wreaking havoc on her body. ‘If you don’t want me then stop doing this to me!’ She demanded and Klaus took a breath before looking around the corner and seeing his Omega looking exhausted and leaning against the doorframe. ‘You?’ She questioned and he winced. ‘No! It’s not bad, I just-don’t take this the wrong way but, I didn’t even know you were an Alpha-you’re just so quiet…well come here then! You induced my heat, the least you can do is comfort me!’ Klaus growled, not liking his mates snappy attitude and she seemed to know that as he stood over her, giving her exactly what she wanted in the end which was him being closer though he still stood back only allowing her to hold onto his shirt.

‘Your mouth is going to get you into trouble Omega.’

She peeked up with curious, teasing eyes. ‘Are you gonna punish me while I’m suffering, Alpha?’

He shook his head and tilted her head up with his hand under her chin. ‘You know that I won’t, Alpha won’t hurt you. I-I worried when you weren’t in class…I needed to know that you were alright.’ She nodded, grabbing onto the sides of his jacket and pulling him closer.

‘Such a good Alpha, needed to check on me. So good to me Alpha!’ He felt a rumble expel from his chest in pleasure, knowing that his Omega was recognizing him as being a good Alpha for her. ‘My Alpha takes such good care of me-‘ she brushed a hand up his chest before running it through his hair. ‘Brings me snacks and comfort and scents everything so good for my nest, Alphas so good to me…just me?’

Klaus let out that rumbling sound again, much louder and deeper this time. ‘My Omega! Mine! Knew from the moment I smelled you that no one else could have you! Won’t let them near you ever again, Omega!’ He pulled her against his chest, unable to fight his instincts anymore, needing his Omega in his arms but her hands pressed to his chest, stopping him from scenting her which he instantly grumbled at.

‘My Alpha? No other Omegas anymore, just me…right?’ His head snapped up, suddenly understanding her demeanor and nervous scent.

‘My Omega is all I need, never even thought about another Omega since I smelled your scent, you’re all I want. No worrying about that, and there sure isn’t a line of Omegas looking for a nerdy Alpha-‘

‘My Alphas kind, and sweet, brings me snacks and blankets, takes care of me…and my Alpha is so pretty.’ She complimented, the Omega moving her arms around his neck to pull him close. ‘Omegas steal…I would steal you.’

‘No stealing. I’m all yours…let Alpha have you, let me take care of you. Will you let Alpha help you through your heat?’ She nodded quickly, pulling him down and pressing her lips to his in a needy kiss. Klaus held her close, relishing the feeling of finally being able to hold his Omega and take in her scent, a scent that was slowly killing him. ‘I need to get a few things, I didn’t know you were in heat and I need to take care of you-‘

‘You’re leaving?’ She whined and as he looked down into her eyes he knew he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t hurt her like that and God only knows who she would answer the door to next as her heat gets worse and her head becomes fuzzy.

‘No. No Princess, I’m gonna have stuff delivered, don’t you worry about a thing. You go snuggle up in your nest while I get some stuff brought to us.’ Her eyes lit up and she pulled him close, kissing him hard before she hopped over to her nest, fixing a few things before crawling in allowing Klaus to see all of the things he had scented for her already in her nest making his chest swell with pride and happiness that he could make his Omega happy like a good Alpha.

He quickly had a friend get a bunch of water bottles and snacks for them as well as grab a few things from his dorm for him, telling him to bring it urgently. He also called the Dean to tell him that they both needed to be excused from their classes until his Omegas heat is over which thankfully the school can’t reject, lest they be “prejudiced against Omegas”.

There was a loud knock on the door and Klaus quickly grabbed Y/n before she jumped up. ‘No more answering the door for you, not like this. Your Alpha is here to take care of you now, Princess. Stay in your nest and Alpha will help cool you off.’ His Omega was sweating now, her heat taking hold harder as he was now here with her. ‘Thank you, I owe you one when this is all over.’ He told his dorm mate whose eyes widened as he took in the scent wafting from the room however Klaus knew he was a Beta which is why he asked him to do it specifically, just in case he got bold.

‘You owe me nothing, the smell is worth it.’ Klaus grabbed his things and shut the door quickly, dropping the duffel bag of stuff and quickly plugging in the A/C fan he had gotten to use during his ruts when he desperately needs to cool off.

‘This will chill the room very quickly and you’ll want to snuggle up in your nest just like you should.’ As soon as the cool air began blowing on her she instantly began emitting a soft purring noise that went straight to his cock. Klaus also took his comforter and spread it over the nest to give his Omega more of his scent which she instantly snuggled under, reaching out for him.

‘Alpha, need you.’ He quickly stripped to his boxers and moved to crawl into the nest, pausing as he did, feeling the instant relief and comfort as he slid under the blankets. Klaus had never felt anything so comfortable in his life and his head felt floaty and happy as he got in. He had only heard about how a nest can make an Alpha feel, Alphas never experiencing one unless they have their own Omega.

‘Your nest is wonderful, Omega. Absolutely perfect. Thank you for letting me share it with you.’

‘Always Alpha, always want you in my nest with me. Wanna make you happy.’ She nuzzled her face into his neck and nipped his skin against his scent gland which caused an excited growl he couldn’t supress if he tried.

‘You’re all mine now Omega, never any other Alphas ever again! If they come anywhere near you I’ll rip their throats out.’ There’s something to be said for the strength of an Alpha protecting their Omega and even Klaus who is on the smaller side of being an Alpha could tear apart those football assholes for his Omega once they’ve mated. ‘I need you to tell me now, before you’re too far gone. Do you want me? I’ll stay and comfort you if that’s all you want, it will hurt me but I will do it. I just need you to tell me.’

‘Want you to love me Alpha, please? Need your knot, need it! Don’t keep it from me Alpha, please?’ His eyes widened, not having expected her to beg in such a way.

‘Shh, Alpha would never keep his knot from you, I would never be so cruel. Your Alpha is gonna knot you up so deep you’ll be full of my pups by morning.’ He swore, pulling her top off over her head and seeing she was only left in her red lace panties. ‘So fucking perfect, Omega! Fuck!’

By the time he had completely undressed her she had ripped his boxers off (Klaus thanking the Gods that he had another pair in the duffel bag) and straddled him roughly making him growl, only to flip her back over and grind his hard cock against her slick center. The mewl that she let out was it’s own reward and he loved it as he humped his hips against her roughly before she tugged on his hair. ‘Knot Alpha! Please? Please?!’ She pleaded desperately.

He felt bad for not making it last longer for her but they had all the time in the world and if what his Omega needed was his knot this fast then he would provide it. He pushed his cock into her gently, not wanting to harm his girl at all but she seemed to have other ideas, wrapping around him completely and pushing onto him all at once making her scream. He thrust up into her roughly, keeping up his pace as she raked her nails down his back, the growl she pulled from him clearly making her happy.

‘Knot…please? Knot me Alpha, please?’ She begged.

He wanted so badly to make his Omega finish first, feel her squeeze around his cock almost painfully but he was hanging on by a string and if this is what she needed then he would give it to her. Klaus wrapped an arm around her waist and his other held between her shoulder blades, pressing her against him as hard as he could, thrusting into her twice more before feeling his knot expand within her. Just as he began filling her she clamped down on him and cried out, tightening her grip as she rode out her own end on his knot, Klaus keeping her from moving too much and hurting them both. He didn’t move, knowing that Omegas are extra sensitive at this point and not wanting her to think he’s trying to leave however he lifts her up onto the pillows more, grabbing a bottle of water that he had put on the table and making her drink it.

They stayed there just like that, snuggled up in their own world until his knot went down enough for him to move, ordering them both some food to make sure his Omega ate before it got worse. He was bound to go into rut by morning just being around her scent like this and he needed to ensure they had everything they needed by then and were fully fed.

Klaus hopped up from the nest as there was a knock on the door, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and opening it a bit, assuming it was the food before seeing one of Y/n’s friends-Caroline- standing there with a confused look on her face. ‘Who are you and why are you in her room?’ She questioned suspiciously but as if she hadn’t quite decided anything about him yet.

‘Taking care of my Omega. Now is not the best time, Y/n will be out of class for the week. Her professors already know and I’d appreciate you telling her friends she’ll be out just to keep anyone else from knocking. If you need something text, okay?’ She stopped the door before he could shut it and he instantly disliked the way she batted her eyes up at him. He didn’t want to be near another Omega right now and she was making this so much more difficult. He knew Caroline, she was shallow and greedy, Daddy’s money had always gotten her everything (including a spot in their highly prestigious school) and she always smelled of at least 5 different Alphas.

‘You’re the Alpha that’s been sending her gifts? That’s so sweet! Such a good Alpha…’ she leaned on the door jam and he tried very hard to keep the door as closed as he could but she was making it impossible to do that and not touch her at the same time.

‘Thank you, I do try. I need to get back to my Omega-‘

‘And attentive! So wonderful! I wish I had an Alpha like you.’ She flirted, reaching her hand out to touch his hair and making him step back. He didn’t want to be rude to her friend in anyway but she was pushing this too far.

‘I’m sure you’ll find someone soon, try someone other than idiot football players.’ He suggested. ‘Now please, I need to-‘

‘Oh I definitely plan to try someone else…you smell fantastic, you know that?’ Klaus huffed, rolling his eyes, having had enough before responding at her again.

‘Well you smell like a whore.’ Her eyes widened in shock and her mouth fell open. ‘Yes, I said it, do you think people can’t smell them all over you? You smell like so many Alphas have cum all over you that you may as well have a glory hole in your dorm room door. Maybe if you didn’t smell like 5 different Alphas at a time a nice one would bring you gifts like I did for my sweet Omega whom I would never trade for any other anywhere in the world. Now, Get Out!’ Klaus snarled, using the door to push her before slamming it in her face.

When he got back into the nest Y/n was awake, looking at him in shock. ‘No Alpha has ever passed up Caroline for me.’

‘You were meant to be mine so I should thank them for that. I will always take care of you, I have never been attracted to an Omega like I am to you. You’re mine now, and I’m sorry but I think I definitely just lost you a friend.’ She shook her head.

‘There’s only 4 Omegas in the whole school, she’ll move on or she’ll be alone cause everyone else is going to love you.’ She grinned, snuggling back into his chest and scenting him over again since there was another Omega in the room.

‘Hopefully they’ll love me just a tad bit less.’

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[connorsnothereeither]

Sometimes I think about the fact that since canonically in Mer SMP Raylan has a Percy in that universe, it means there’s probably a Mer!Ulysses.

I like to think he’s just a chill older human guy who lives in a fishing village. Like maybe he’s a folklorist who specialises in Mermaids, and he spent his life searching for them and is known as like, the resident cooky old man who lives by the beach, who tells stories and believes in mermaids, but he gets to be happy and content knowing they do exist (after learning his child is dating two of them lol)

[calebauer]

season one • season five

[silna-pdf]

Lmfao everytime I see DexterDoakes edits I ALWAYS think of them and giggle . I want to recreate the whole scene on tiktok

[feminist-space]

Post by Morgan Pommells:

"Things I am begging parents to stop doing as a trauma therapist, holiday edition A

1.) Sharing your children's secrets in order to get a laugh at the family gathering

2.) Expecting daughters to clean up after dinner while the men go 'watch the game'

3.) Making fun of your child in front of family and then telling them to "lighten up" or "relax" when they express that it hurts"

[moeitsu]

The Dark Tide Siren!Arthur Morgan x Reader Modern AU Ch 4 - The Current Knows No Master Summary: Hosea is a steady presence, helping Arthur unravel his past and the dangers that come with it. Tension builds between you and Arthur during a heated moment, where your physical closeness stirs unexpected emotions. You begin to sense that your unspoken connection could change the relationship forever, as feelings of vulnerability and trust deepen. wc: 10k tw: none really, exploring anatomy, slight nsfw Swim Back! ↞ ﹏𓊝﹏ ↠ Sail Ahead!

AN: This might be my new favorite chapter. Got a bit carried away, but I'm pretty proud of it! Serving up some sweet hot angst :)

I've also started a tag list! I'm still blown away that people are reading this let alone enjoying it! If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters please let me know!

tag list: @photo1030 @v3lv3tf0x @ireallyhonestlydontcare

Hosea shifted his weight, flipping through Charles’ medical report with one hand while his sharp eyes flickered between the clipboard, Arthur’s imposing figure, and me. He repeated this process several times, skimming the notes, muttering under his breath, then stealing another glance at Arthur as if to make sure he was real. For a man who had spent over three decades running an aquatic rescue center, he was taking the discovery of a mythical creature with remarkable composure.

The deep lines on his sun-weathered face twitched with contemplation, but there was no fear—just curiosity. Hosea Matthews was a man who had seen it all. As the owner and benefactor of the Heartland Aquatic Rehabilitation Center, he was more than just a businessman—he was a scientist, a teacher, and above all, a protector. He thrived on educating the public about marine conservation, often leading school tours and speaking with journalists to spread awareness of our mission. No creature was too broken or beyond saving in his eyes. If an animal found itself within these walls, Hosea would sooner strike a deal with the devil himself than abandon it to fate. And that devotion extended to the people under his care, too. He treated his employees like family, fiercely loyal and deeply invested in each of us.

The clock on the wall ticked past 7:10 AM. The facility would open to the public in less than an hour, it was typical for Hosea to arrive early and check in on his employees and resident patients. But I had a gut feeling he would be clearing his schedule today. Not when something like this had landed in his lap.

“Two hearts…” he muttered, rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully. He looked at Arthur again, then back at me, as if I could somehow confirm what he’d read in the report. “Incredible. One to pump blood to the gills, the other to circulate it through the body, if I were to guess.”

His voice carried the same fascination I had felt the first time I pressed my ear to Arthur’s chest and heard that mesmerizing, rhythmic thrum. But unlike me, Hosea’s wonder was tempered with calculation—already, I could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to piece together Arthur’s biology. I had no doubt that by the end of the day, he’d be buried in every marine textbook and research paper he could find, chasing the impossible.

Hosea tossed the medical notes onto the counter with a soft pattering clink, exhaling as he stepped closer to the pool. His boots scuffed against the tile, the sound swallowed by the steady hum of filtration systems and the gentle slosh of water as Arthur shifted ever so slightly. Despite my presence, Arthur’s slitted eyes remained locked onto Hosea, watching his every movement with wary precision. His dark blond hair drifted like kelp caught in a current, fanned out around his partially submerged face. Even now, after everything we’d been through together, his instinct was still caution.

With a groan that betrayed his age, Hosea crouched at the pool’s edge, resting his forearms on his knees. He ran a weathered hand through the white strands of his hair, lips tugging into a wry smile. “I have to be honest—I really thought John and Charles had teamed up to play some kind of sick prank on an old man.” He chuckled warmly, shaking his head. “But I can see now that I was the fool.”

I huffed a quiet laugh. “I bet John wishes this was still a prank. He had a hard time with it all last night.”

Hosea’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Sounds like my boy.” He glanced back at Arthur, studying him as though he were trying to commit every impossible detail to memory. “What did you say his name was?”

“Arthur,” I answered softly. “And he can talk. You just need to be patient, he’s—”

I trailed off as Arthur’s eyes found mine, those deep blue depths glistening with something fragile. A silent plea. Fear, uncertainty, trust all woven into one unspoken look. That strange, aching need to protect him surged through me again, something deeper than instinct, something almost primal. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt it down to my bones.

“He’s had a rough night,” I finished, voice quieter now.

Hosea hummed knowingly, his gaze flicking to Arthur once more. “Well, Charles isn't one to spare any gruesome details in his reports. Sounds like he’s been through hell.” He leaned in slightly, offering a warm, reassuring smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arthur. My name is Hosea Matthews—I run this rehabilitation center. I can see you’ve already met some of my crew. They’re good people. And we’re gonna do everything we can to help you, son.”

Arthur didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. The slow, deliberate flare of his gills spoke for him, a flicker of unease passing through his body like a ripple on water. At first, I didn’t understand why—until I caught the briefest twitch in his expression at Hosea’s choice of familiarity. Son. The word struck something in him, something painful.

He told me about his ‘family’ only moments ago.

My stomach twisted at the memory of his broken voice, the raw truth laced beneath the simple words: Don’t have a home. His trust was slow, a fragile thing, and I knew then that Hosea’s kindness—though genuine—was still too much, too soon. But not with me, a small voice in my mind whispered. Arthur trusted me. That realization wrapped around my heart and squeezed, an intoxicating blend of responsibility and something deeper, something I wasn’t ready to name.

“Once that wound starts making some progress, we’ll get you into a bigger tank,” Hosea continued, his voice gentle, coaxing. “You’ll love it here, I promise.” He winked, as if that alone could lighten the weight of everything Arthur had endured.

Arthur remained silent, but his gaze flicked back to me, as if waiting for my confirmation. And for the first time since last night, I wondered if I was becoming more than just his rescuer. If I was becoming his tether. His anchor in a raging sea of uncertainty. 

It almost felt…good to be needed, to be trusted with something so beautiful yet fragile.

I crouched next to Hosea, exhaling a hesitant sigh as I searched for the right words. “About that, Hosea… There’s something rather, uhm—miraculous I discovered about Arthur this morning.”

Before he could ask, I extended my wrist, tilting it so the sunlight filtering through the skylights caught on my skin. The light refracted off four iridescent scars, polished like streaks of opal, running in perfect parallel lines.

Hosea’s sharp eyes narrowed. He reached out, taking my wrist in his weathered hands and pulling it closer. With a quiet hum, he retrieved a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and perched them on his nose.

“Count my lucky stars,” he murmured, smoothing a calloused thumb over the scarred flesh, where the once-torn skin had knitted itself back together seamlessly. “I’ve never seen something like this in all my days.”

“Me neither,” I admitted, still in awe of the truth I had barely begun to comprehend. “He’s got some kind of accelerated regeneration ability—and it’s not just his own body that heals. He can use it on others. I don’t know the extent of it yet, or its limitations, but the wound he suffered last night has nearly vanished.”

Hosea exhaled, thoughtful as he turned my wrist this way and that, watching the scars catch the light like shifting pearls. He was a man who had seen plenty of strange things in his lifetime, but even this seemed beyond his understanding.

“He’s truly something incredible,” I continued, voice dipping lower, heavier. “But I’m afraid there are some bad people who want to take it from him.”

“The harpoon, you mean?” Hosea asked, cocking an eyebrow. Of course, nothing ever got past this man. The moment I mentioned Arthur’s ability, he had already pieced together that there was more to this creature than what was written in the report.

I stole a glance at Arthur, watching the way the water rippled gently around his partially submerged face. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, he was still. Then, the faintest nod—a gesture so small it would’ve been imperceptible if not for the subtle movement of the water.

He was giving me permission. Trusting me to speak on his behalf. Trusting me to share his past with the only people willing to help him.

And I wouldn’t take that lightly.

Without hesitation, I launched into everything I had learned. If anyone could help us—if anyone could save Arthur from the torment and cruelty that had shaped his existence—it was Hosea Matthews.

I told him Arthur was only half siren, that his father had been human and had taken him from his mother at a young age. I explained how this man had sold him off like livestock, trading his own son to a group of scientists who saw him as nothing more than an experiment, a resource to be drained. They had exploited his ability to heal, used his body without regard for his pain or his will.

But I left out the part about his son. That felt like a piece of Arthur’s past that wasn’t mine to share. He had so little as it was—no home, no family, no freedom. His memories, even the painful ones, were all he had left of his identity, the only proof that he had ever been someone instead of something.

Hosea listened in silence, his face unreadable, though I could see the sharpness in his eyes—the way his mind was already moving, fitting the pieces together. But when I spoke the name, the name of the man who had claimed ownership over Arthur, his expression shifted.

“Dutch van der Linde,” Hosea repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze turned distant, clouded by thought—remembering, calculating, connecting dots I hadn’t even drawn yet. He let out a slow, measured breath, and when he spoke again, his tone was grim.

“Oh dear. This isn't good.”

Arthur sensed the shift instantly. His body tensed beneath the water, muscles coiling like a predator readying for a strike. He rose slightly, his gills flaring and on full display, his lip curling back in a silent snarl. The sharp ridges of his shark-like teeth glinted beneath the morning light.

This was not the fear of a man—it was the instinct of a creature who knew he had been backed into a corner. The predator turned prey. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The water around him rippled with the force of his body preparing for a fight, knowing that if it came to that, he would not go down without one.

For the first time since I had met him, I saw not just the man or the creature—but something caught in between.

Something dangerous.

Something monstrous. 

Arthur’s entire body was wound tight, his muscles flexing beneath the water’s surface. His teeth, sharp and lethal, remained bared just enough to send a warning. A storm brewed behind his ocean-blue eyes, dark and turbulent, and for the first time, I realized just how close he was to snapping. 

I felt the tension rising fast, thickening the air like a pressure drop before a hurricane.

“Hosea,” I said carefully, keeping my voice even. “Do you know of this man?”

Arthur’s fingers twitched at his sides, his claws flexing, his body poised as if he expected to fight his way out of here. He needed answers, but he also needed to be calmed before he did something that betrayed the gentle nature he had shown me.

Hosea stood slowly, exhaling a long sigh as he scratched his chin, pulling his thoughts together. “Dutch is a kingpin in the pharmaceutical industry.”

I blinked, caught off guard. Pharmaceuticals?

“I’ve never heard of him before,” I interrupted, rifling through the list of billionaires who ran the healthcare industry. Names of powerful CEOs and corporate giants ran through my mind, but Dutch van der Linde wasn’t among them. Surely, if someone in the healthcare industry had a creature like Arthur under their study, the world would know about it. His existence wouldn’t be a secret—it would be a scientific revelation.

“That’s because he operates underground,” Hosea explained. “Think of it like the black market. He has unorthodox ways of testing and collecting data. We crossed paths many years ago, before I opened this facility. He offered me a partnership of sorts, wanted to use my knowledge of marine life to push his ideals. His plans.”

I swallowed hard, the tendrils of fear curling tight around my heart.

“Plans for what?” My voice was quieter now, uncertain. “Is he trying to make a drug from Arthur’s mucilage? To cure cancer or something?”

It was a hopeful thought, but the moment the words left my mouth, I already knew the reality was much darker. I had seen it—the proof was written in the scars scattered across Arthur’s body, each one a testament to suffering and cruelty.

Hosea’s expression darkened. His voice, when he spoke again, was void of any warmth.

“No, my dear.” He met my gaze, unblinking. “Men like him don’t have other people’s best interests at heart. Dutch isn’t looking for a cure. He’s looking for immortality.”

The breath hitched in my throat.

“He—he wants to live forever?”

Was that even possible? Arthur’s ability was accelerated healing, but had this man found a way to harness it? To manipulate it, weaponize it—use it to halt aging entirely?

Was that why they had wanted Arthur to give them a son? So they could continue their exploitation for generations, creating a lineage of sirens bred for their abilities?

A knowing smile ghosted across Hosea’s lips, though it held no humor. Perhaps it was my naivety that amused him.

“Not in the way you think,” he said. “Dutch is a businessman, an opportunist. Money and power—those are the only things he believes can make a man eternal. Wealth that never runs dry, influence that never fades.”

I felt my stomach turn.

Arthur hadn’t just been a captive. He had been an investment.

And Dutch wasn’t going to let his most valuable asset slip away so easily.

The familiar clank of metal filled my ears as the door to the examination room creaked open. The sound alone was enough to send ripples of tension through the air, a reminder that we were no longer in the fragile quiet of the morning. Almost simultaneously, I heard Arthur shift in the water—or rather, felt the splash as he disappeared beneath the surface.

He had retreated again, gliding to the farthest edge of the pool. But the space wasn’t large, offering little sanctuary. Beneath the water, I saw the faint outline of his curled tail, drawn tightly to his body in an attempt to make himself smaller. To disappear. Oh, this poor sweet creature… My heart twisted painfully at the sight.

He was so frightened. Using all his energy, which should be focussed on his healing, to appear brave in the face of the unknown. Every new sound, every unfamiliar scent put him on edge. The stress was coiling around him, dragging him deeper into the instinctual fear of an animal who had spent too long being hunted. The primal impulse to retreat, to hide, to disappear. Already, I wished we could go back to how things had been just hours ago, when he had been more at ease, when he had welcomed my touch.

But now, reality was creeping back in. And Arthur was retreating into himself.

The door fully swung open, and John strode in, carrying a tray with three coffees balanced in his grip. The rich, bitter aroma cut through the sterile scent of the examination room, grounding me in something familiar. Without a word, he set the tray down on the counter with a quiet thud.

I slipped off the lip of the pool, sinking into the water’s embrace. It was warm, a soothing contrast to the cold tension in my muscles, heated by the morning sun and the underwater pads Lenny had installed for Arthur’s comfort. The exhaustion of the night before, coupled with my less-than-ideal sleeping arrangements, pressed down on me like a weight.

I needed rest. I needed a clear mind to tackle this. But even as fatigue settled deep in my joints, the water offering momentary relief, I knew my first priority wasn’t myself. It was him.

Arthur needed reassurance. He needed to know that everything was going to be alright—even if I wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

“Morning,” John rasped, his voice rough with sleep. “Thought you guys could use some caffeine. There’s breakfast sandwiches in the breakroom, too.”

“Thanks, son,” Hosea said warmly, reaching for one of the coffees. The steam curled in the air, fogging his glasses as he took a careful sip.

John walked over to the pool and extended an iced coffee toward me. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect—my body desperately needed the energy.

“Thank you, John,” I murmured, wrapping my chilled fingers around the plastic cup before taking a grateful sip.

Iced mocha caramel. He always grumbled that I was drinking more sugar than actual coffee, but he remembered my order nonetheless. It was a small thing. But right now, these small things meant everything.

Behind me, I hadn’t even noticed Arthur had lifted his head out of the water until John made a disgusted noise.

“Yeesh, he’s even uglier in the daylight. Look at those beady eyes, and those freaky little things coming out the side of his head…”

I snapped my head up at him, mouth already open in protest. “John—!”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t the prettiest either, sunshine.”

The deep, gravelly timbre cut through the room, stopping John mid-sentence. His entire body stiffened, face draining of color and mouth gaping as his eyes darted toward Arthur, who was now watching him with an infuriating amount of amusement.

“What the fuck?” John sputtered, pointing an accusing finger. “H-he talks?!”

I couldn’t help but snicker at his reaction, and I wasn’t the only one. I noticed Hosea’s expression shift as well—the weight of our conversation that had hung over him only moments ago giving way to something softer, something like awe and quiet amusement.

Arthur smirked, swimming closer, his chest puffing slightly as he rose higher out of the water. “What, did an alligator eat half your brains?” he taunted. “’Course I talk. You think I’m some kind of inane half-wit like you?”

John’s face turned an impressive shade of red. “Listen, shark boy, we saved your scaly ass. You best remember that.”

Arthur smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Oh, I remember plenty—like you nearly drownin’ in three feet of water.” His voice was smooth, but his wit was sharp as an urchin’s needle. “I’ve seen beached fish put up a better fight. You swim ‘bout as well as a mudskipper in a desert.”

“That’s enough, boys!” Hosea cut in before John could dig himself any deeper, though he couldn’t quite stifle his own laugh. “Lord above, you two bicker like brothers, and you’ve only just met.”

John huffed, crossing his arms, but I caught the flicker of reluctant amusement beneath his irritation. Really, how could anyone stay mad when trading barbs with a creature as sharp-witted, articulate, and downright magnificent as Arthur?

Hosea patted his shoulder, steering the conversation back on track. “I’ve gotta make some calls—see if Sadie’s heard anything about Dutch or his whereabouts. John, go check on the main tank, make sure it’s suitable for our new friend. And see if Kieran’s got some mussels or fresh fish. He looks like he’s about ready to eat you.”

With a playful wink, Hosea turned back toward Arthur and me, leaving John grumbling under his breath.

Sadie Adler was the local fish and game warden, but calling her that didn’t do her justice—she was a force to be reckoned with. Fierce and unyielding, she handled everything from enforcing conservation policies to investigating violations, and if Dutch Van der Linde was operating anywhere nearby, Sadie was the first to turn up with a keen eye for intel. She wasn’t just a woman of authority—she was a dear friend to the facility, having been there from the beginning, offering advice, helping with the heavy lifting, and supporting Hosea, John, and the rest of the team whenever they needed her. Her loyalty ran deep, and while she commanded respect in the wilderness, she was equally dependable when it came to the people she trusted. If Dutch was on the move, Sadie would be there to track him down, and if things escalated, she’d be the one to lead the charge. 

With Sadie involved, the ball was finally beginning to roll, and everyone knew that when she was on their side, they had an unshakable ally.

John let out a long-suffering sigh, the kind that could only come from someone who was used to this kind of banter, but there was no masking the reluctant compliance in his eyes as he nodded. Then, with a skeptical glance at me, he shot a question over his shoulder. “The hell are you grinning for?”

A giggle bubbled up from my chest, and I leaned closer, lowering my voice just enough so Hosea wouldn’t hear me instigating. “You got schooled by a fish.” I couldn't help the amusement that flickered in my eyes. Watching John get taken down a peg by Arthur was too good to pass up.

John’s eyes narrowed, his grin tugging at the scars on his cheek, and for a moment, I could see the challenge in his gaze. “No wonder he’s taken a liking to you,” he said with a sly chuckle. “Weird attracts weird.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could throw back a sharp retort, John grabbed his coffee, tipping the cup toward me with a mock salute. “Charles should be here soon,” he said, turning toward the door. “He’ll want to examine him again before we move him, so do whatever it is you do and tame the beast before he takes a bite out of one of us.”

The playful edge in his tone was still there, but I could sense the underlying tension. Arthur was no beast, not really. No matter how much he tried to act like one. And despite everything he had endured, there was something in his eyes that made me want to keep protecting him, keep reassuring him that he didn’t have to be that thing. He wasn’t that monster.

As John stepped out, the door clicking softly behind him, I turned back toward him in the pool, where Arthur still lingered, his gaze distant but locked on me. A quiet understanding passed between us. Like we were both waiting for the moment we could be alone. 

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

Arthur’s gaze was fixed on the door, his sharp eyes flicking back and forth as if he were anticipating the next stranger to walk through or waiting for John to return and pick up where they'd left off—some battle of wits, no doubt. His posture was tense, as though any moment could break the fragile peace that had settled between us. I leaned back against the edge of the pool, letting the water rise slightly as I sank lower, my chest now submerged in the warmth. The water was comforting, but there was a heaviness in the air that I couldn’t shake.

“He’s an ass, don’t let him get under your skin—or, uh, scales,” I said, trying to inject some levity into the conversation. But even I knew how lame it sounded. Still, it felt important to say it, to reassure him. Arthur's silence was almost suffocating, and I wondered if he even understood the weight of the words I spoke. Was it possible to explain something like that to a being whose species was so vastly different from my own?

It was still surreal to be conversing with a creature like Arthur, an entirely new species that I’d only ever heard whispered about in stories. If word got out about his existence, would the world demand to know every detail of our conversations? Would people try to study him, dissect every interaction like some scientific experiment? Would Arthur ever trust anyone enough to open up to them, or was it always going to be just me?

There was something so human about the way he spoke—his cadence, his pauses, even the faint traces of emotion in his voice—but at the same time, it was undeniably alien. His accent, no doubt learned from his captors, added a rough edge to his speech, but it wasn’t just that. His voice held an animalistic undertone, as if the words were trapped behind sharp teeth, struggling to find their way out. Some of his syllables seemed to catch, like they couldn’t make it past the sharp points of his canines. Others came out incomplete, slipping through his gills before they could fully form. And then there were the growls, the hisses, and the purring—subtle sounds that humans certainly didn’t make.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the edge of the pool, rolling my neck to ease the strain in my muscles. I needed a moment to center myself, to shake off the weight of the day. It felt like the world around me was pressing in, and I just wanted to breathe, to reset. For a while, the only sound was the gentle splash of water as Arthur remained still, his gaze still locked on the door.

After a beat, as if confirming the coast was clear, Arthur spoke again.

“He’s afraid of me,” he said, the words rough but certain.

I mulled this over for a moment, considering the layers beneath his statement. “Well, I wouldn’t say afraid,” I replied, my voice soft but thoughtful. “Definitely a bit anxious, though. He’s... not used to things like you.”

Arthur tilted his head slightly, the faintest flicker of something I couldn’t quite read crossing his expression. It wasn’t a smile, exactly, but it was a subtle shift, a hint of self-awareness.

“Anxious, huh?” he mused, as if testing the word on his tongue. Then he shook his head, as though he was finding some small amusement in it all. “So that’s what I smelled on him.”

Smelled? I jerked my head, gods above. I was so quick to forget I was talking to someone that was more animal than human. I shouldn't be surprised he could smell the chemical changes in emotions. 

Arthur swam toward me, his body gliding through the water with an effortless grace, coming to a stop just inches away. My pulse quickened, the proximity sending a jolt of heat rushing through me. He was so close now that I could feel the warmth radiating from his chest, a slow, steady heat that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the beat of his twin hearts. His skin, still slick with water, shimmered in the soft light, every movement stirring the surface around us. I could almost taste the closeness of him—the way his warmth mingled with the coolness of the water between us.

He was propped up on his tail, using it like a seat, the motion fluid and powerful. The way his tail coiled reminded me of a serpent, sleek and dangerous, its strength hiding in every subtle shift. I could feel the silk like tendrils of his tail fin tickle my feet. It reminded me of just how massive he was, how he towered over me even submerged in the water. I could feel the weight of him without him even needing to touch me, a presence that filled the space and consumed my thoughts.

Hell, if he moved any closer, his hips would be flush against mine. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, my body instinctively responding to the proximity, to the heat of him. The space between us felt charged, thick with something unspoken, and yet, I couldn’t look away. I was caught in the gravity of him, the tension hanging between us like a thread waiting to snap.

I let out a nervous chuckle, trying—and failing—to keep the air light. “John’s been known to skip a wash. You’re probably catching a whiff—”

Whatever composure I had shattered the instant Arthur leaned in, his head dipping into the crook of my neck.

A sharp jolt of electricity shot through me as the tip of his claw ghosted over my skin, pushing my hair aside with agonizing slowness. My breath hitched. The warmth of him was palpable now, his chest so close that I could feel the steady rhythm of his twin hearts. The faint rush of water against my skin wasn’t just from the pool—it was from him, the movement of his gills as he exhaled, hot and damp against my throat.

Was he—was he smelling me?

A familiar heat curled low in my stomach, an unwanted but undeniable thought slithering its way into my mind. What would his tongue feel like there? Would it be rough or impossibly soft? What would the ridges be like? Would he taste me the way predators do, slow and deliberate, savoring the sensation?

“I never smelled fear on you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. The words were felt more than heard, vibrating against the sensitive skin of my neck.

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering beneath his breath. I should pull away. I should put space between us. But I didn’t. Instead, I tilted my head slightly, unconsciously giving him more access to the most vital spot on my body. Blood rushed to my head, hot and quick making me feel dizzy. 

“Should I be afraid of you, Arthur?” My voice came out steadier than I expected, but there was no denying the weight behind the question.

Arthur hesitated. He pulled back slightly, and already I mourned the loss of his warmth. But before I could process the absence, he shifted again, bringing his face to mere inches from mine.

His pupils had expanded, swallowing the blue of his irises in deep, endless black. I swore I could see my own reflection in them, distorted like a black mirror, the water between us barely disguising the intensity of his gaze.

“I’ve hurt people,” he admitted, his voice lower now, quiet with something that almost sounded like regret. The confession sat heavy in the space between us, thick and unspoken for a long moment before he added, softer still, “I hurt you. And still, you don’t fear me.”

I took a slow, deliberate breath. That’s what this is about.

I lifted my chin slightly, meeting his gaze with renewed steadiness. “It was an accident,” I countered, my voice stronger now, more assured in our proximity. “You acted on instinct. I don’t hold it against you in the slightest.”

Arthur studied me, his lips parting slightly as if he had more to say, something deeper, something unspoken that lingered between us like the charged air before a lightning strike. But instead, he remained still, watching, waiting—his breath fanning softly against my lips, close enough that if I shifted even an inch, we would…

I forced myself to exhale. I wasn’t afraid of him. But maybe, I should have been.

My hands remained beneath the water, hidden between us as I moved with deliberate slowness. Tentatively, I let my fingertips trail up his side, barely skimming the surface of his skin. The warmth of him was staggering, a stark contrast against the cool air above the water, and as my fingers passed over the ridges of his ribs, I swore I could feel his breath hitch.

Then, I touched his gills.

They were unlike anything I had ever felt—soft, impossibly delicate, like wet velvet beneath my fingertips. The moment I brushed against them, a shudder rippled through Arthur’s body, his muscles tightening beneath my touch as he exhaled a breath that was more of a shiver.

His head dipped toward mine, lips parting ever so slightly, as though he were preparing to steal the very air from my lungs. The space between us grew impossibly small, the tension thrumming so thick it felt like it could snap at any moment. My breath stilled, mirroring his as I tilted my chin up, parting my lips just enough, as if my body already knew what came next.

He was so close I swore he could feel the pounding of my heart against my ribs, rolling in like thunder, wild and unrestrained.

But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t close the distance.

A part of me trembled with nerves, another with anticipation, and gods above—I was aroused. That insatiable warmth coiled low in my belly, twisting into something tight and aching between my legs, something that burned hotter with every second we lingered in this breathless moment.

Before I could stop myself, the words tumbled past my lips, my voice barely louder than a whisper. “What do I smell like?”

Arthur inhaled, and for a moment, I swore he was tasting the question as much as hearing it. His pupils, already large from our proximity, expanded even more, turning his eyes into endless black pools. His gills flared around his neck, and that soft bioluminescent glow flickered to life, melting between us like sunlight dissolving into the ocean depths.

“Sweet,” he murmured, voice deep and thick with something unreadable. “Like those little noises you make when I touch you.”

A sharp inhale caught in my throat, and it was only then that I realized—somewhere in the span of our conversation, he had trapped me against the edge of the pool. His arms caged me in, hands planted on either side of me, his body close enough that the water between us felt inconsequential.

And then, as if to prove his point, he dragged the back of his knuckles slowly up my bare arm, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. A small, breathy sound slipped past my lips before I could stop it, a sound that felt dangerously close to a whimper.

Arthur responded immediately.

That sound—my sound—triggered something deep within him.

A low, rolling purr rumbled from his chest, vibrating through the water between us, and fuck—I felt it between my legs. The sensation was subtle yet devastating, a deep, resonant hum that sent warmth curling through my spine, pooling where I ached for something I couldn't name.

His eyes never left mine as he leaned in just enough to brush his lips against my ear, voice dipping lower, rougher, when he added, “And musky… unlike anything I’ve ever tasted before.”

My breath hitched.

He—he could smell my musk?

No. Scratch that.

He could taste it?

My body tensed, heat flashing beneath my skin as I stared at him, equal parts mortified and breathlessly aroused. But Arthur only smirked, that damned knowing smirk, like he could read exactly what was running through my head.

And gods help me, I wanted him to. 

I suddenly felt like my own body had betrayed me, my hormones conspiring against logic, against reason. Of course I should have known his senses of smell and taste were intertwined, that he could sense me in ways no human ever could. The thought sent another wave of heat rushing through me, pooling low in my belly, coiling tighter between my legs. Hell, I was probably saturating the water with it by now.

Arthur breathed in deeply, his pupils darkened, a limitless sea of midnight, his lips curling into a grin that was nothing short of sinful. He was taunting me, reading my every thought, my every flustered attempt to gain control over my body and the way it ached for something I couldn’t deny with words. His gills flared beneath my fingertips, the movement almost instinctual, a silent plea or perhaps a challenge.

I took it.

Slipping my fingers beneath the delicate slits, I stroked the silky underside of his gills, and oh. They were impossibly soft, like the gentlest brush of a cloud against my skin, warm and slick beneath my touch. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, but it was nothing compared to his reaction.

Arthur shuddered.

A low, guttural sound tore from his throat, thick with raw need, and his hips rolled forward, pressing flush against mine. The friction sent a bolt of fire through me, my breath catching as every nerve in my body ignited all at once.

The sound that followed was entrancing—his siren song. A deep, desperate groan that rumbled from his chest, vibrating through the water, through me. It was the kind of sound that spoke of hunger, of instinct, of a need so primal it threatened to consume him whole.

And gods help me, I had never wanted something so badly in my life.

I was utterly breathless at the sight of him. This massive, magnificent creature curling into me, arching into my touch as if my fingers on his gills were the only thing that mattered to him. His tail lashed through the water, powerful and restless, the motion sending small ripples over my skin, like even the sea itself responded to him.

My hands trembled slightly, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I caught the edge of one of his frills between my fingers, rolling it gently, reverently, sliding my touch up and down like I would a length of the finest silk.

Arthur groaned again, this time deeper, rougher, pulled from somewhere inside the hollow of his belly. His hand shot down, wrapping around my wrist—not to stop me, but to hold me there, to keep me touching him, to anchor himself in the sensation.

He was unraveling beneath me. And part of me wanted to see how far he could go.

Pressed against his chest, I could feel the steady, powerful rhythm of his twin hearts drumming beneath my fingertips, their pace betraying just how much I was affecting him. His hips rutted into mine again, slow but deliberate, and then—I felt it.

A more…private appendage that had been tucked inside his body. It was new. And strangely different.

A firm hardness pressed against me, emerging from beneath his scales—hidden before, but now unmistakable. Heat coiled low in my stomach as realization dawned, my breath hitching as I instinctively glanced down.

Below his slit, I noticed a subtle shift in his body, the scales parting, revealing something I hadn’t seen before. A new opening, a previously concealed gap where something more was stirring to life.

Arthur let out a sound between a growl and a groan, thick with something raw and unfiltered, and then—he said my name. Low, guttural, almost pained.

“You have no idea what this does to me.” His breath came fast and uneven, each exhale warming my already feverish skin.

His eyes snapped open then, locking onto mine with an expression so intense it stole the air from my lungs. It wasn’t just need, though that was certainly there—dark, all-consuming, a hunger I wasn’t sure he could tame. But beneath the desperation, I caught something else. Fear. Anticipation.

Like he was waiting to see what I would do next.

Like he was afraid of what he might do if I didn’t stop him.

And suddenly, the weight of it all came crashing down on me.

Only hours ago, my curious fingers had been teasing his entrance, innocent in my exploration. And now—oh shit. Did he think I was offering myself to him? That I was trying to mate with him? I had no idea what their rituals even entailed, had I crossed a line? Could we…would our bodies…fit? 

I wasn’t even sure myself why I had done it. I had gotten so wrapped up in him. In the way he looked, the way he sounded, the way his body responded to my touch as if I was the only thing anchoring him to this world.

And yet…

If we were in another time, another place, another body—maybe then, I wouldn’t have stopped myself. Maybe then, I would have indulged in the darker curiosities swirling through my mind.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, though I wasn’t entirely sure why I said it. Was I apologizing for touching him? For stopping? For stirring something between us that neither of us fully understood? 

Was I sorry for being the one to rescue him? That John had called me and not one of the other girls? Would it have been easier if someone else had taken my place—if I had never been the one to pull Arthur from the brink?

Or was I sorry for something else entirely?

Sorry that I couldn’t seem to define the ache growing inside me, the pull that had started as fascination but was quickly morphing into something far, far more dangerous. Sorry that I couldn’t understand why his fixation on me felt almost equal to my own fixation on him.

Two creatures, worlds apart, dipping their fingers into a current so strong it threatened to pull us under the tide.

And I was starting to wonder if I wanted to come up for air.

All I knew was that, in this moment, I had tangled myself—and this poor, beautiful creature—into a storm of confusion and frustration, and heaven help me, I wasn’t sure how to unravel it.

My voice came softer this time, barely more than a breath.

“I’m so sorry.”

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

Charles pulled off his blue latex gloves with a practiced flick, sending them sailing through the air before they landed neatly in the waste bin. The movement was effortless, second nature, as he busied himself with tidying up his medical tools, the clink of metal against metal filling the otherwise quiet room.

“His wound is healing nicely—much faster than I expected. Though, if I had known he had accelerated healing, I probably wouldn’t have bothered with the stitches,” he chuckled, shaking his head like he still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“You did the right thing, Charles,” I reassured him, my voice softer than I intended. “He was going to bleed out if you and Lenny hadn’t done something.”

Charles hummed in agreement, but my focus had already drifted back to Arthur.

He lay stretched out on the examination table, his massive form suspended just above the water level of the pool. The setup was temporary—meant for quick assessments, not extended stays—but he looked tense, his muscles rigid beneath his slick, bioluminescent skin.

When Charles had arrived shortly after our… moment… it had taken a considerable amount of coaxing on my part to get Arthur to emerge from the shadows curling along the edges of the pool. The morning sun had shifted, casting longer streaks of light through the skylight, but Arthur had lingered in the dim corners, watching warily as Charles entered.

At first, I thought it was fear that kept him hiding, but then—I caught the subtle cues, the tiny tells I had grown so accustomed to. The way his gills fluttered unevenly, the way his tail curled slightly around himself, not in defense, but in something almost vulnerable. Embarrassment. Shame.

Guilt churned hot and thick in my stomach.

Had I ruined something between us?

He had been so open with me, so trusting, letting me touch him, explore him in a way that was undoubtedly intimate. And I—I had let my own selfish curiosity, my treacherous, hormone-addled body, lead us somewhere neither of us had been prepared for. Had I confused him? Frustrated him?

Stars above, had I hurt him?

The sickening thought settled deep in my gut like a stone. The last thing I ever wanted was to make him feel used. To make him feel exploited—like the men who had stripped him of his autonomy, who had treated him as nothing more than a tool, a resource to be controlled.

I swallowed against the rising nausea and cast a glance at the clock on the wall. Early afternoon. I had spent nearly the entire morning in the water, and my body was starting to feel the effects—my fingers had pruned, my skin tight and dry from the salt. And god, I was hungry.

As if sensing my growing exhaustion, Charles threw me a lifeline.

“I’ve got a few more patients to check on after this, then I’m heading home for the day. You want me to give you a ride to Clemens Cove so you can get your truck?”

And some rest.

He didn’t say those words outright, but they hung unspoken between us. His offer was casual, lighthearted, but I caught the concern beneath it—the way his gaze lingered on the fatigue etched into my features, the way his tone softened just enough to let me know he noticed.

And honestly? I wasn’t about to argue.

I nodded, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “That would be much appreciated. I was worried I’d have to walk back.”

Charles cocked an eyebrow, his lips tugging into a playful smirk. “Now, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady wander halfway across town after the day you’ve had? Besides,” he added, giving me an exaggerated once-over, “you look about two steps away from passing out, and I’d really rather not have to explain to Hosea why I found you face-down in a ditch.”

A tired chuckle escaped me, shaking some of the tension from my shoulders. “Well, when you put it like that…”

His grin widened, warm and genuine. Charles was an undeniably handsome man—everyone could see that. His soft brown eyes held an innate kindness, warm and rich like melted chocolate, but there was strength behind them too. When he gave orders during an emergency rescue or a high-pressure surgery, his voice boomed, steady and commanding, filling the room with an authority no one dared question. But there was another side to him as well—the one that spoke softly to the children who came through on educational tours, explaining things in a way that made their eyes light up with curiosity. The voice that turned gentle when he muttered to himself while solving a problem, focused but never frustrated.

Charles was smart. Resourceful. A quiet force, yet one that commanded respect without ever demanding it.

My friendship with him was different than my friendship with John. John and I pestered each other like siblings, always quick with a sarcastic remark, always toeing the line between playful bickering and actual affection. But at the end of the day, we had each other’s backs like family.

With Charles, it was something else entirely. Easier, in some ways. More complicated in others.

He had been my mentor when I first started working here, the person I turned to when I felt out of my depth. But beyond that, he was a friend in the truest sense—someone who listened without judgment, someone who understood without needing every detail explained.

And right now, as exhaustion pulled heavy at my limbs, that understanding meant everything.

The gentle clinking of medical tools brought me back to the present. Charles was sifting through a tray, his fingers moving methodically over the various packets of needle tips, checking their gauge and length with practiced efficiency. I watched as he selected one, examined it under the light, then clicked his tongue and tossed it back, continuing his search.

“Everything alright over there, Captain?” I teased, the old nickname slipping out with ease. It came from the early days, back when he’d take me out on his boat to assist with rescues and releases, back when everything felt simpler—before this.

A few strands of black hair had slipped free from his bun, framing his sharp features as he glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah. Just looking for a needle that’ll penetrate his skin. I want to collect a few blood samples and run some tests on that mucilage you told me about earlier.”

I barely had time to process his words before Arthur moved.

He bolted upright on the table so suddenly that I jerked back, the water sloshing around me as my footing slipped. My stomach twisted, not just from the shock of his reaction, but from the raw, breathless panic in his voice.

“I ain’t doin’ more tests,” he said, his chest heaving, pupils blown wide.

Shit.

“Easy, Arthur,” I soothed instinctively, lifting a hand as if to calm a wild animal. “They won’t hurt, just a quick pinch.”

But the moment the words left my lips, I regretted them.

I had been so caught up in trying to reassure him, in trying to help, that I had completely forgotten why this would send him into a tailspin.

Arthur’s jaw clenched, his body going rigid. “I been pinched enough,” he snarled, his voice thick with something bitter and laced with old wounds. His gills flared, sharp and aggressive, and when he spoke again, his tone was low, dangerous, vibrating with barely-contained fury. “I’m not givin’ you blood, or anythin’ from me!”

The air in the room thickened, the tension snapping tight like a riptide, pulling everything under in an instant. His body was coiled, wound so tight with fury that it seemed ready to burst. Every muscle in his frame tensed, his gills flaring wide like a warning. The unspoken threat in his posture hung heavy in the air, a low, menacing hum that made my breath catch in my throat.

A dreadful thought clawed at the back of my mind, growing louder with every second.

Could he be pushed past the brink?

Had he felt this kind of rage before? The kind that came when he was captured, when he fought for his freedom? His words echoed in my head, his voice haunted by something darker. 

I’ve hurt people.

My stomach twisted violently as the terrifying question ripped through my thoughts.

Did he kill his captors?

The weight of the possibility hung in the room like a shadow. As if the earth itself could sense his turmoil as a dark cloud rolled over the sun, shrouding the room in a dark gray light. 

Would he do it again? Would he lash out, and if so, at me? I could see the storm in his eyes, and the way his breath came in short, sharp bursts told me he was on the edge of losing control. It was as though I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for something—anything—to tip him over the edge.

Charles, to his credit, remained calm. He didn’t back away, didn’t flinch, but his expression softened just enough to show he was trying to level with him. “Arthur,” he said evenly, “I have no idea what I’m working with here. I can’t give you the proper care if I don’t know what’s going on inside your body. You need to let me study you first.”

The words struck a nerve.

Arthur’s body tensed, his muscles convulsing like he was preparing to strike. His fins flared—all of them. The ones along his arms and head, the ones that normally lay flat against his body, had risen in a display I had never seen before. And they were pointed. Perilous. 

Then, something new happened.

Arthur opened his mouth, but what came out wasn’t English. Wasn’t human human speech. 

A string of guttural, unfamiliar words spilled into the air, rough and raw like stones grinding against the ocean floor. The sound was deep, layered, yet there was something melodic buried beneath the harshness, something that almost resembled a song.

I froze.

Was this his natural language?

Arthur’s chest rose and fell, his throat working as he spoke in that strange, haunting cadence, his bioluminescent veins pulsing faintly as if responding to the rhythm of his voice. My heart pounded as I watched, transfixed, completely unprepared for the deep ache that curled through my gut at the realization—

This was something ancient. Something that belonged to him. To his kind.

And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear it.

Charles shot me a brief glance, his eyes cautious as he registered my intent. I could see the hesitation in his gaze, but I mouthed the words, I’ll be okay, go, and a quiet understanding passed between us. I tilted my head toward the door, an unspoken trust settling over the room like a heavy blanket. He nodded, not questioning me, as he packed his tools and made his way out of the pool, leaving us alone.

Arthur’s eyes followed Charles as he left, but his anger didn’t fade. Instead, it simmered, a storm still roiling beneath the surface. His dark blue eyes locked onto mine, pupils narrowed to razor-thin slits. The intensity in his gaze felt like it could cut through me, a searing heat that left me breathless, almost paralyzed.

I took a tentative step toward him, my hand reaching out slowly, almost instinctively. To my surprise, he spoke again, his voice thick with panic.

“I—I don’t want to be studied,” he stammered, the words tumbling out in a rush, tinged with fear and raw emotion.

I softened my voice, offering him the calm he so desperately needed. “Then we won’t study you, honey.”

But it wasn’t enough. His walls were still up, defenses razor-sharp. “You gonna chain me up?” He shot back, his voice harsh, laced with bitterness. “Poke me and shock me till I can’t fight back? Cage me here ‘till you get your fill of research?”

I was close now, close enough that I could see the tremors in his frame, the way his muscles tightened beneath his scales. My heart ached for him, for the torment he’d endured. But I also knew I had to find a way to reach him, to calm the storm inside him before it tore us both apart.

I let my hand slide gently up the smooth, hard length of his tail, cautious but tender. The warmth of him was intoxicating, a pull that made my chest tighten, but I kept my touch steady, moving with reverence. I avoided the sharp fins that had risen along his hips, the ones I hadn’t noticed before—pointed and rigid, like a warning.

“I would never,” I said the last word with as much severity as I could muster, my voice low and unwavering. “Do you remember what I said to you last night, and again this morning?”

I knew the memory of my words would be enough to give him a moment of pause. I needed him to breathe, to step away from the raw edge of his rage.

I slid my hands further up his body, feeling the heat of his skin under my fingertips. Slowly, I placed my hands beneath his palm. His webbed fingers curled around mine immediately, the gesture instinctual and comforting. He was still trembling, but the tension in his muscles eased just slightly.

“These hands…” I began softly, giving him the space to finish the sentence himself.

A long, shaky breath escaped him, and for a moment, I thought I’d lost him. But then, his gills flared gently, settling back down as he found his ground again. His voice, when it came, was softer, quieter, almost reverent.

“…would never hurt you.”

“That’s right,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, a weary smile tugging at the corner of my lips. His words, though simple, soothed something deep inside me. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed to hear that, needed to know that this—whatever this was between us—wasn’t one-sided, wasn’t born from a place of control.

But even as I smiled, the exhaustion hit me all at once. A yawn escaped me before I could stifle it, the weariness of the day creeping up on me like a tide pulling me under. His outburst had drained the last of my energy, and I longed for the comfort of dry clothes and the soft embrace of my bed.

Gods, it had been a long day.

Once I was certain that Arthur’s anger had settled, I moved to help him slide off the exam table. As I shifted it out of the way, I couldn’t shake the weight of everything that had transpired. How the hell had we gotten here?

“I’m really sorry about all of this, Arthur,” I murmured softly, my voice tender as I spoke the words. “You’ve been through so much already... I never meant to cause you more stress.” The sincerity in my tone was almost palpable, a quiet ache threading through my chest as I looked at him.

He didn’t answer, but instead ducked beneath the surface of the water, his sleek body gliding effortlessly through the pool. His tail flicked powerfully, sending waves crashing against the sides, as though he was trying to burn off all the remaining energy, the anger still simmering beneath his skin. I could feel the pull of his restlessness, a quiet undercurrent to everything he did. He needs more space. The thought hit me like a sudden revelation, and I knew then that this was only temporary. His body wasn’t built for such small confines. He needed room to move, room to breathe.

He surfaced again, shaking the water from his hair and glancing at me with that familiar, guarded expression. “John should have everything ready for you soon,” I said, my voice warm, reassuring. “You’ll have more room to swim. Places to hide, if you choose. And I’ll talk to Kieran about getting you some food.”

I was about to step out of  the pool, but before I could even walk away, something cool, slick, and strong wrapped around my ankle.

Arthur.

I froze, the contact sparking an electric pulse that made my heart race. I looked down, and for the briefest of moments, I could swear there was a hint of something innocent in the way he held me—something that didn’t belong in the immense creature I had come to know.

“You’re leaving?” His voice, thick and uncertain, carried through the stillness.

My heart squeezed as I looked back at him. There he was, his large frame hovering in the water, but his expression was so vulnerable, so human, for lack of a better word. His gaze softened with a trace of something almost sad, and god, if sirens could pout, this one was certainly pouting.

“I’ll be back in the morning, honey,” I explained, trying to sound as reassuring as I could. I gave him a small smile, hoping it would settle him, but even I wasn’t sure it would. He needed comfort, but I needed to calm my own turbulent thoughts. “I need to get some sleep.”

He nodded ever so slightly, the gesture almost imperceptible, before finally releasing me. The warmth of his grip slipped away, leaving me feeling hollow for a second. I walked toward the wet mat, grabbing the towel that hung on the wall, preparing to leave the pool and head to the locker room when I heard his voice call my name again.

“Hmm?” I called, surprised by the soft note in his voice. I turned back, still rubbing the towel through my wet hair, waiting for him to speak.

“Do you have a mate?”

The question hit me like a splash of cold water. It left me blinking, caught completely off guard. “I—do I have a what?”

His massive figure loomed there, suddenly seeming so small in the vast space of the pool. His head dipped as if to hide the uncertainty on his face. “Are—are you spoken for?” he asked again, his tone now tinged with a kind of nervousness I hadn’t expected from him.

The silence between us deepened, stretching long and heavy, as my mind tried to wrap around the weight of his words. He was asking if I had a partner. If I was dating anyone. My breath caught. Why would he want to know this? I felt the heat of a thousand questions rise to my lips, but none of them felt right.

Before I could speak, Arthur muttered something under his breath, and in that moment, his voice cracked just slightly, like a raw edge exposed. “Forget it.”

With a swift, graceful movement, he slipped back beneath the water, vanishing from sight.

No, I don’t.

The words hovered on the tip of my tongue as I stared at the spot where he had disappeared. The urge to reach out, to tell him that no, I wasn’t spoken for, that there was nothing tying me to anyone else, was almost overpowering. But I stood there, feeling my heart pounding in my chest, watching the water ripple in his wake.

I couldn’t chase him. 

Not yet.

AN: I love this silly little sea boy. Next chapter is gonna include his pov because I feel like everyone deserves to know what's going through his head right now. Poor thing is so horny and scared, and you know what, me too Arthur. Me too.

I'm blown away by the love and feedback I've received for this so far. I genuinely though this would be something that stayed hidden in the deep dark caves of the fandom ocean. But here we are, thank you so so much for reading. It warms my little monsterfucker heart <3

[reality-detective]

Piers Morgan Admits to Tucker Carlson He Was "Completely Wrong" for Pushing the ¢ov¡d Jabber-do-hickies. 🤔

[thelistenersfury]

[atdawn]

COLIN MORGAN in HUMANS Season 2 Episode 5

[whoisspence]

prentiss: i don't know what that means

morgan: google it

prentiss: good idea

prentiss:

prentiss: hey reid do you have a minute ?