Work Text:
Ragged breaths filled the chamber, harsh, uneven, echoing off metal and glass. A low growl answered, wet and guttural, vibrating through the floor like something testing the air between each exhale. Water dripped in slow, rhythmic taps, the only steady sound in a space otherwise ruled by panting, scraping claws, and the thud wood in a steady but frantic rhythm.
Unnh...fuck...so big…
The projection screen crackled to life.
Perfect timing.
The static cleared just in time for Gortash’s face to appear, immaculate as ever, framed in that soft blue mechanical glow, only for his expression to halt pre-sentence as he took in the scene:
Clandestine.
Pinned to a crate.
Hair a mess.
Legs open.
A sahuagin over her.
Gortash blinked once.
Then his mouth curled.
“I did warn you not to come down here… didn’t I?”
Her eyes dragged toward the screen in a slow, exhausted roll, lids heavy as if even looking at him required effort she did not currently possess. His gaze dipped, taking in the creature, the crate, the whole disaster they’d made of his reactor chamber.
“Got in a bit over your head, did you, dear?”
He let the words roll out with a velvet sort of mockery, equal parts entertained and exasperated, like he’d been expecting her to ignore his warning and was almost pleased she’d proven him right. A common occurrence between them.
She gasped out, struggling against the creature but finding no leverage. Her hips bucking involuntarily with each thrust, the pleasure-pain overwhelming as she clawed at the trident prongs around her neck.
“Try not to die. It would be terribly inconvenient.”
His image stuttered, blue light guttering out in a blink; one second he was there, infuriatingly calm, and the next she was staring at a dead, silent screen.
Bastard.
Her last coherent thought as the Sahuagin growled over her, hoisting one leg up into the air with ease to spread her wide open and began a jackhammer pace into both of her slick, squeezing holes.