The morning sun was nowhere to be found, hidden behind a veil of thick, gray clouds. Rain drizzled lazily outside the bedroom window, misting the glass with droplets that slid down in quiet streaks. Inside, the room was dim and heavy with warmth and the faint scent of sea salt — and something far more clingy.
Nate groaned softly, stretching under the blankets. Or, at least, he tried to stretch.
He couldn't move.
A weight — warm, damp, and unbelievably plush — was draped across his chest and legs, keeping him firmly in place. There was moisture soaking into the sheets, his shorts, and the entire lower half of his body. He blinked groggily, lifting his head only to find himself face-to-chest with two massive, damp orbs of plush softness.
Kyra.
The curvy, wet, perpetually affectionate Kyogre girl was straddling his torso, her thick thighs pinning his sides and her tail wrapped tightly around his legs like a tentacle blanket soaked in saltwater. Her navy-blue skin glistened with ocean dew, red bioluminescent markings faintly glowing across her hips, ribs, and shoulders. She wore a thin tank top, the same one she'd slept in, which at this point was practically see-through and doing nothing to contain the sheer weight of her bust — which, at the moment, was slowly smothering the life out of his face.
"K-Kyra?" he mumbled, voice muffled between her soaked curves.
She shifted slightly — not enough to let him breathe properly, but just enough to hug his head tighter against her chest. "Shhh."
"Shhh?"
"Still mad," she muttered, voice low and sulky.
"Mad? What did I—?"
Her grip with her tail tightened around his legs, holding him down. She shifted again, this time grinding her hips ever so slightly against his stomach. A splash of warm, wet friction made him flinch.
"Groudon, Nate."
His eyes widened. "Wait, you're still thinking about yesterday?"
"I told you I needed emotional support," she grumbled, leaning down so her lips were right beside his ear, her soaked hair cascading down over his shoulders. "And what did you do after we got home?"
"I— You fell asleep—!"
"Exactly," she huffed, dragging her bust slowly down his face before pinning his chest again. "So now I'm owed something. Big time."
He let out a weak laugh, trying to lift his hands, only to find them pinned beneath her heavy, dripping body. Her thighs alone were enough to keep him immobilized, but with her tail latched around his calves and her chest smothering his upper half, it was a miracle he was still breathing.
"What exactly am I owed?" he asked.
Kyra's eyes narrowed. "Compensation cuddles."
"Compens—?"
She shoved his face back into her cleavage with a wet schlorp, the scent of sea salt and her own heated body fogging his brain instantly.
"You're mine, Nate," she whispered. "And yesterday, that overgrown lizard eyed you up like you were single."
"She was joking—!"
"She was serious. I know Groudon's heat pheromones when I smell 'em. I've fought her before."
"You… fought—?!"
Her tail gave his leg a squeeze. "You're thinking too much. I told you, I want cuddles. No escape. You're the one who gave another legendary a reason to flirt with you. Now you're paying me back. In sweat. And snuggles."
He opened his mouth to argue again — only to have her tank top slide down over his face as she fully dropped onto him.
Her bare chest squished against him, damp and soft and everywhere. Her legs tightened their grip around his hips, and she began a slow, rhythmic grind into his lap, barely restrained but undeniably present.
Nate shuddered beneath her.
Kyra smirked. "See? You like being punished."
"I—I didn't do anything—"
"You exist," she purred, shifting her hips with more pressure. "And you're cute. And you're mine. That means I get clingy rights whenever someone threatens to take my human."
He groaned beneath her, trapped, hardening by the second as the heat from her hips bled through his clothes.
Kyra leaned back just a little, enough to let him breathe, her red eyes glowing faintly in the low light. Her hands trailed along his chest, tracing wet shapes over the fabric of his soaked T-shirt. Her fingers curled in his collar, tugging it down, exposing his neck.
"You're lucky I love you," she murmured.
Then she dipped her head and began planting slow, deliberate kisses along his jaw. Warm. Wet. Possessive. Each one making it clear that this was her territory.
"You're also lucky I'm letting you off with just cuddles," she added.
"This is cuddles?" he wheezed.
"Cuddles. Dominant, heavy, wet cuddles."
He let his head fall back, defeated — and Kyra beamed, nuzzling her cheek into his chest like a smug sea queen.
"Now shut up," she whispered, tail tightening again. "And remind me how much you belong to me. Or I'll soak the entire bed."
"You already did—!"
She grinned.
"Then let's keep going."