Spicy Haakon Short Story (Patreon)

[[NSFW, 18+ ONLY]]

The water is warm today, you think as the sun beats down on your shoulders. The rock you’ve found to lounge on is smooth and cool beneath you, slick from tides that occasionally lap against it. You’ve forgone any tail today; instead you sink your feet into the ocean and playfully kick around like you had as a child.

Haakon grunts slightly as you disturb the water around him. He has decidedly not taken a human form this evening, still unused to legs and feet and toes. It was all very odd for him the first time he tried; he much prefers his cetos form; human but for what marks him as a sea monster. The blue of his skin, the luminescence of his eyes, the gills etched into his throat.

The tentacles that swirl around beneath him.

He has no tail, as he is not a siren. His kind are called cetos, half human and half sea monster, named after a Grecian goddess. He looks like something out of a myth, so you suppose it’s fitting.

He glances up from where he lays his head in your lap, a small pout forming on his full lips, “You’re moving too much.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, lips quirking in a smile, “Is your pillow too active?”

“Yes, quite.” He confirms, practically rumbling in content as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, “Though I suppose I’ll allow it.”

“You’re so kind,” You say, running a hand through his long, damp hair.

You push the strands from his eyes and he leans into your touch eagerly. His eyes are bright as you brush a thumb over one prominent cheekbone, taking in the details of his face. You’ve never seen a cetos before him; he’s the last one, after all. Still, you think he’s more beautiful than any other being you’ve ever seen.

A tentacle rises from the water, a blue so deep it’s nearly black. It slides against your leg, silky smooth, and you bite back whatever noise threatens to escape. He glances up at you, curious.

“Is that okay?” He asks, brow furrowed.

“It’s fine,” You say, refraining to mention that it made goosebumps rise on your arms and chills go down your back.

“You shuddered,” He points out, refusing to let it go, “If…the tentacles make you uncomfortable, I can try legs again.”

You cup his cheek gently, “I’m comfortable however you’re comfortable.”

“But-“ He insists, stubborn as ever.

“It was a good shudder.” You interrupt him, feeling heat rise in your neck and cheeks, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

He pauses, thinking over your words.

“Oh….” He says after a moment, “So you want me to continue?”

You hesitate briefly, “If you want.”

“I do,” He says readily.

The slip of his flesh against yours as he rises out of the water is a feeling you’ve come to crave. Luckily, he seems content to give you all you’d like. He rests his upper body against your legs, pressing a kiss to your navel as his eyes burn a trail up your chest to rest on your face.

He cups your thigh in his hand, the faint press of his claws making you swallow. The tentacle that encircles your leg is joined by another and then another; the slowly move higher, drifting up to drape around your hips and waist. You scoot forward slightly, giving him easier access to you as he runs his hands along your back, his touch catching in the dimples at the base of your spine.

Slowly, the slippery appendages grow more curious as Haakon does as well. They slide beneath your shorts and tank top, pushing the wet material aside to explore the skin beneath. As a cool tentacle slides between your legs, he stops just shy of where you’re aching for him the most.

“You’re sure okay?” He asks again, face pinched in concern.

You lean forward, taking a handful of long hair and dragging him forward to capture his lips. The tentacle pushes forward, then, teasing as it hovers just shy of your entrance. He uses his hands to leverage his weight, swinging fully out of the water to press down on top of you effortlessly. He never even stopped kissing you to do it.

You moan at the weight of him on top of you, and then at the tendril slowly climbing inside your body. It’s an odd feeling, clinging and cool and deep in ways you’ve never felt before. Your legs wrap around Haakon’s waist, keeping him pinned close to you as he brushes against every inch of available skin with either tentacles or hands.

Slowly, the tentacle in you speeds up; you try to meet each thrust of it with a weak little movement of your own hips. Haakon whines low and wounded at the sensation, reveling in the languid way he takes you. The press of his body limits your movement, leaving you at the mercy of his pacing.

It’d be tortuous if the pressure weren’t steadily building, heat pooling in your gut, and you gasp as he brushes against something sensitive. He likes the noise, so he does it again, and then again. He holds you close as you begin to shake, pressing his lips up the line of your jaw and down the column of your neck.

“Good?” He asks when you finally stop trembling.

You reach up to cup his face between both your hands, enjoying the way his eyes slip closed at your touch.

“Good.” You confirm.

He lights up, burying his face in the crease of your neck until you can feel the curve of his smile pressed against your skin.