Y’all wanted more river monster right? Another prompt, another night of debauchery.

A/N: It’s still monsterfucking, people. Go forward with caution if that’s not your bag. Breeding kink and this is like, actual monsterfucking too so legit 18+ NSFW No Minors. Listen to me for once please.

The rock digs into your back where Ed holds you down, large hand slick on the base of your throat. His claws pierce your skin, you can feel the little pin pricks under your ear where his fingers dig in. You’re gasping to the heavens while he noses around your chest, breathing in deep the tang of your arousal. He’s been holding back since the beginning, knows your fragile and weak and doesn’t want to hurt you, not in any significant way. But the way you showed up today, hair mused and face tinged pink he’d felt a shift in the air. He’d been downstream from you when he heard the little cattle call you used for him, a little echo that trilled down his spine and spurred him forward to you. He crept like he always did, making sure you were alone but he could smell you before he could see the flash of your white linen. That sunlight tinged with blood and something rounded. It rolled over his senses like rainfall and something had clicked into place.

This wouldn’t be his first time defiling you. He’d sent you back to your godly family more times than he could remember now, leaking and full of him. Full of the river and whatever old magic kept him hidden and safe. You’d gotten to the edge, perfect toes dipping into his waters and he’d forgotten for a moment you weren’t a meal. You dangled yourself so precariously in front of him, hands wrapped around your mouth to call him, eyes wide and glassy and smelling like mate and he rushed you. Pulled you down till you sputtered where the clear spring waters trailed over your lips. There’s fear under that arousal now, just a smidge and it makes him snap back to himself. Pulls you up tight against him and drags you back to his den where is dry and quiet and away from anything that can get you.

You’re all sighs and whimpers, hands running over his face where he can smell you at your wrist. He bites you there, just a small pressure to barely break skin but it has you gasping, marveling at the little trickle gliding down your wet arm. He holds you in place and rucks up your skirts, the white translucent and thin, letting him see the dark thatch of hair between your legs. He marvels at that every time you let him busy his face there but this isn’t an afternoon of lazy exploring. You’ve woken something up in him, a need that he’s never felt before but knows innately what he needs to do. No, what he wants. He wants you, all your sunlight and this new smell, this deep red earth and citrus tang that’s wound it’s way in his head.

You don’t talk to him, just nod your head when you feel his hand bullying its way up your legs and pulling them apart, gripping your hip and shifting you close to him. You’ve told him he’s like no one else you’ve ever been with before, nothing you’ve ever seen so he knows when he ruts into you with abandon that you’re just as lost in it as he is. He takes from you, cock shoved deep when he yanks you up by your shoulder so he can look at you, so he can dig his teeth into the soft parts of you. The breath punches out of you he’s so big, the stretch always barely imaginable but worth it when he moves you around so he can thrust up.

He has things he wants to say but no words for them, things you’d only understand if you were like him. He thinks if he can fill you up enough maybe you’ll start to get it. Maybe he can give you a whole brood just like him and maybe it’ll make this all make sense. Your hands wind up at the base of his neck, fingers in silky hair while he holds you down so you can’t move away. He can feel you pulsing around him, can hear in your gasps how close you are to your own release. Selfishly he doesn’t care right now, only interested in his own chase. He ruts up hard and feels it snap, feels the tie binding you two tighten. If it’s magic or nature or whatever god it is you pray to he doesn’t care. He only cares about you full of him. He wants to watch his seed run down your leg when you finally leave, satisfied little smile on your face. He’ll have one of his own knowing your his and no one else’s. Your dress hangs loose around you where it’s drying, your wide, strange eyes still glassy but half lidded. You give him one last little wave before disappearing between the trees and that last breeze sweeps through and he can smell you different now. Sunlight and blood and moss and him.

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