Pairing: Shark Hybrid!Johnny Utah x menstruating!reader 🌊
Warnings: Smut (Minors Do Not Interact), dub con, reader is on their period, menstrual sex, oral sex (f receiving), biting, monster fucking / teratophilia, shark hybrid. Blood and a shark hybrid? You do the math!
Word count: 1.3k
Summary: You unexpectedly get your period while on your beach vacation. In an attempt to relieve the cramps, you take a late night swim in the ocean…you soon learn what happens when a shark scents blood in the water.
AO3 Link
A/N: For @pointbreakvhs 🤍Enjoy your shark husband 🦈
Shark Hybrid Utah edit done by @atomic-groupie 💚
Thank you to @jjaksclayton and @atomic-groupie once again for being awesome beta readers 💛💚
Also special thanks to @arch-b1sh0p and @misspsychoticfics for being my shark consultants 💗💜
Divider credit: @jjaksclayton ❤
You don't ask for much. All you wanted was a relaxing weekend getaway to the beach—with the picturesque sunshine reflecting over the turquoise waves, the grainy pliable sand squishing between your toes, and all the free time to unwind from the monotony of life…and then Mother Nature decided to pay you an uninvited visit and make your period come a week earlier.
Oh well. It could have been worse.
The rickety wooden door on the rental beach house closed with a dull thud while you grabbed your faded towel hanging off the porch's railing. A little bleeding isn't going to stop you from enjoying the water, you tell yourself once you plopped your cover up and towel a safe distance from the tide. The hazy glow of the silvery moon was a beacon among the constantly churning darkness of the ocean. The muted shore's appearance was like a black and white movie playing on the old television set inside the house.
You were told swimming can help with menstrual pain. When the comforting cold of the sea reached past your waist, your mind was already forgetting the twinge of your misbehaving uterus. Now floating on your back, looking up at the pin-pricked dots across the vast sky, you were at peace. Right when your eyes started to close, you heard a loud splash.
Setting yourself upright in the water, you tuned your hearing towards the direction of the noise. It didn't take long for you to locate the source of the splash—just fifteen feet away from you, a dark gray fin materialized out from the depths. You seized up, two thoughts echoing in your mind like an alarm bell: A shark and blood in the water. A deadly combination that puts a big red target on you.
Not wanting to provoke the shark, you gradually began swimming back to the safety of the shore. But your movement, as careful as it was, still managed to alert it. Its fin angled straight on to your retreating form, the sound of more splashing making you throw caution to the wind and paddle frantically back.
When the first padding of sand touches your foot, relief coated your flared up nerves. Pulling yourself up, you turned to look back at the foiled shark. What happened next was mere seconds, but time slowed down to an agonizing crawl to prolong your impending doom.
The fin disappeared under the inky waters before an unusually massive billow crested. The predator emerged, reaching towards you with—hands?
At first glance, the creature had the convincing veneer of a handsome young man. His dark hair had been slicked back by the rushing tide, lingering water droplets adorned his broad shoulders and lean torso like crystal freckles. His face looked like it belonged to a Disney prince, with just enough softness to complement his masculine features. But the closer his form got, the more the uncanny valley settled in. His skin tone had an unmistakably gray hue, a shade that could not be explained away with sickness or temperature. But the feature that caught your attention—and your fright—were his fathomless eyes the color of shining onyx. No irises or sclera in sight, just a harsh confrontation of your shocked reflection staring back at you.
A webbed hand grasped your ankle, yanking your body back in the water. Your peril was finalized when his other hand ripped apart the bottom half of your swimsuit, and his nose buried in your bleeding crotch.
"You. Smell. Good…"
His distorted deep voice rumbled like the tumultuous waves dragging you under. A final scream escaped your throat when his razor pointed teeth sunk into your tender inner thigh.
So this was your fate: him keeping you under the water close enough to the shore with your face barely above the surface, taunting you with the air while you became dinner for the shark man. His mouth lets go, languidly scraping his large needle-like teeth towards the apex of your thighs. Your meager thrashing was no match for his superior strength or his nails threatening to pierce your flesh as he held your limbs further apart for his true prize.
Petrified with mortification, you faintly registered his head push between your legs again. The first slide of his silky tongue has you tensing up suddenly, the expert muscle collecting the first drops of your precious blood. His movements were relaxed and unhurried, savoring you like a delicacy—and to him, you were. His lips gave your clit a firm suck, your hands instinctively found his bobbing head and gripped the raven strands for dear life. This gesture earned a pleased growl from the shark man's gilled throat, making him double his efforts to bring you to a swift, intense climax.
Your mind was drowning in the whirlpool of sensation with this predator as both the perpetrator and your only anchor to sanity. But as he brought you nearer to the edge of pleasure—his head peeking above the surface and blazing eyes locked solely on you—you invite the insanity in with toes curling, back arching, and rolled back eyes.
He drinks up your orgasm and the last dregs of your blood, holding you close while the final twitches of the post-climatic haze fades to lazy bliss. The same webbed hand that held you captive was now resting comfortingly over your lower abdomen, his clawed thumb rubbing idle circles relieving any cramps you had left. After finally having his fill, he gently laid your slack body on the cusp of the coast, allowing you to recover and him to hover above you while the lower half of his shark body remained in the water.
While he watched over you, you were gifted a chance to take in the rest of his physiognomy. His once eclipsed eyes morphed into a more humanoid look, complete with pupils and irises presenting a warmer, surprisingly friendly shade of brown. You didn't notice before—given the circumstances of your non-traditional greeting—but his ears were fin-tipped and pressed flat against his head, as if expressing embarrassment for his voracious behavior. The picture was cute…if it wasn't for his lips and chin painted scarlet from his sloppy eating.
"I'm sorry," he says, not meeting your gaze while he rubs the last of your blood off of his face and hastily licks his fingers clean. "I normally do not go crazy like that." His eyes found yours again with a cheeky—and razor-teethed—grin. "But you do smell good. And taste even better."
His voice no longer had the hunger-driven predatory distortion marring the calming timbre, which in itself made his words and the casual way of saying them more spine-tingling.
You don't know how to respond other than saying: "I take that as a compliment, Mr. Shark."
He laughs heartily. "My name's Johnny Utah."
An ironically ordinary name for someone obviously anything but ordinary, you thought to yourself, but you were not about to make cheeky comments to the very blood-motivated shark man.
Once his laughter dies down, his expression turns serious again. "Thank you for feeding me…Would you ever allow me to make it up to you and have a much more appropriate welcome to the ocean?"
You brain was reeling from this once bestial creature now acting so human, with shyness and hopefulness tinging his offer. It was enough to convince you despite his hunter's instincts shown just moments ago. You could worry about your poor decision-making later.
"I would love to, Johnny." Your answer was met with a wide, pointed smile. He was adorable—fins, tail, teeth and all.
He watched you walk back to your beach house, waving goodbye until the door closed on your retreating form. He couldn't wait to see you again as early as tomorrow morning, knowing that the beach will be closed due to a "shark sighting."
A/N: I was thinking about making a part 2 with a sweeter tone with Shark Utah. Let me know if you want more of him! 🦈
