Literature
Your Business, My Pleasure (Male!UrsulaxReader)2/3
“You still haven’t answered my question,” you mutter, strained, as a tentacle caresses down the entirety of your back and tail for the umpteenth time while Ursul lays along his side on a stone slab. His pointer finger pulls at his bottom lip at slow, absent intervals as though whatever is running through his mind requires all of his attention—and not in a good way.
He shows no sign of hearing you, instead emitting a long, low groan that turns into a mischievous chuckle. You shift as the action causes his stretched rib and stomach muscles to contract rhythmically.
"Ursul," you call, peeved. When he remains entangled