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grokebaby · 2 years

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Weird finds in the freezer

Allie dipped the mop in it's bucket, lazily swiping it across the tiles. With the amount of cleaning she did here, she might've just as well become a housekeeper or something, probably paid better than working at a gas station. But she wasn't particularly attractive so maybe a sexy maid wasn't her calling in life afterall, and she was perfectly content with that. She didn't hate the way she looked either. To be honest she couldn't have cared less. Her thoughts wandered as she brought the mushy mop back to it's bucket, sloshing it in there. The water was starting to look gross. A little dirt soup. Looked about similar to their deep frying bowls after a long day.

Or cages? Whatever those were called.

She should change the water by this point. She didn't feel like it but she went back to the kitchen anyway, sloppily drizzling a few drops from the heavy bucket on the floor as she went. She'd clean the whole floor eventually what's a few more splashes. It's all water anyway.

She grunted with effort as her twiggy arms lifted the bucket over the huge sink, pouring the murky water into it in one huge wave. It probably wasn't the most graceful way to go about it, but it was late. Jeremy had left her to clean up at around midnight so that was at least an hour ago by this point, she thought, seeing as her watch said 1am. I mean he was a slacker but who wasn't, right? He'd covered up for her spilling the cooking oil that one time so she felt fair letting him leave early to make it home before his boyfriend went to bed.

Before she could open the tap to pour in fresh water, Allie stopped to listen to her surroundings. She wasn't jumpy, but she could've sworn that was the distinct sound of their freezer slamming shut. She stay there frozen for a moment just in case she'd just imagined the whole thing. Faint scratching, knocking, screeching. Okay, yeah there was someone in there. She hoped it wasn't a burglar, but if it was, she also hoped they'd be thankful enough to be rescued that they'd take the money and leave quietly without threatening her.

Allie snuck deeper into the kitchen, the part where they stored the food. There were scattered, mostly emptied boxes of food packaging. Most of it was left untouched beyond being taken out of the boxes, for some reason. Maybe this was just a hungry homeless person. One who seemingly didn't care much for canned beans. She carefully peeked inside the freezer through the window in it's door. It was frosted all smudgy so, big fucking help that was. Allie stalled on her feet nervously. She'd have to talk to some complete stranger, yay.. She took a deep breath and grabbed the handle. Confidence, Allie, be cool!

The door opened, not being locked - obviously, since someone got in already, but it was heavy. Maybe too heavy for a hypothetically very desperate homeless person. Not that she was judging, she'd probably do the same. Although she'd probably have taken the canned goods and left, since those were already meant to stay edible for long enough to survive an apocalypse or something. Whatever. The cold air hit her face, making her whole body shiver. Luckily, as soon as fall started, she'd switched to sweaters. To be fair she still wore hoodies and sweatpants round the year..

"Hello..?" she called out to the dim freezer, searching up the light switch. Some shelves were completely knocked over, boxes everywhere, without even mentioning the food. Luckily Allie recognised the raw patties and bacon strips, before she'd get to freak out about potentially having a dead body in there. It was possible, she didn't venture to the freezer that often, but even so, the shelf collapse could've at least injured the image of an apparently very frail homeless person that Allie had conjured up to be their assumed break-in. Not that she was judging that either, she was pretty skinny, but not in like the cute anime girl way, but like, a starved college student that she hadn't technically been in at least four years now. Maybe. Was college that far ago already?

"Huuugh.." she heard a pained groan, along with some rattling amongst the piles of junk, and was worried that she had to consider for a moment whether it was human or not. She saw fat white maggots beginning to crawl out from the various meats that had splattered on the floor, and she grimaced in disgust. She skipped past the maggot infested foods on the floor, and reached in to lift some fallen boxes off of the heap, which was squirming. "You okay in there? Need a hand?" She asked tentatively, slowly thinking more and more that she was basically in a horror story setup. She pushed it away, hoping this would, at most, end up as some creepy podcast story shared on the internet that nobody would believe anyway. Despite that she offered her hand.

What she didn't expect grabbing it, was a keratinous claw with four long, hooked fingers, skinny but leading up to an increasingly fatty arm, and she gasped between clamped teeth as she tried to recoil from it's grip. In her moment of panic, Allie stumbled back from the junkheap, slipping on the moist raw meats on the floor and falling sorely on her ass. The claw having a tight grip on her little human hand ensured the fact that while she did trip, she also pulled out a puffy faced, reddened humanoid, although only in the vaguest appearance, as the creature resembled more like a melted wax sculpture, except made out of naked pink flesh and it's upper torso filled with disgusting clusters of holes. Allie shrieked as the massive fat creature fell partially onto her knees, letting out a little oomph as it began to crawl the rest of the way out of the junk.

She froze in place, getting a better look at the thing as it started straightening it's long body before her. Beginning from the head which looked as if it was being devoured by a massive worm, teeth clung to the humanoid's temples, with a raw scarred face containing empty eyesockets. The body had fatty flaps which sort of resembled a vaguely feminine human, at least if talking about the generous curves, but from the hips down the body was all worm. Wrinkly, slimy, flabby, segmented, writhing worm. The creature towered over her, although it too looked dazed by the incident, and it tilted it's headworm down to use it's four pitch black eyes to look over Allie better. The horrific smell of rotten flesh, and something moist wafting over her made her gag a few times but instead of vomiting, Allie opted to pass out for a minute. Now, she didn't hate bugs, worms included, but she'd have never welcomed them anywhere near her food. Or body.

She came to, again, feeling her head held up by one of those clawed hands, the other ever so gently tucking Allie's hair out of her face. Speak of faces, the creature's was hovering barely an arm's length - aka way too close, to hers. "U-uhaugh-!" Allie sputtered out in a surprised fright, sounding like a bumbling idiot as she wiggled out of the worm-person's hold. "Oh dear, you seemed to have hit your head, I was quite worried when you passed out so suddenly.." the creature gurgled in a weirdly concerned voice. Allie wasn't sure if it's speech actually came from it's mouth, or the fat little maggot that it had in place of a tongue. She scampered to her feet, shivering from cold and shock. "wh-whata, who-? Did you-?" she stuttered, gathering her thoughts. Yep, she was definitely in a horror movie now. Meeting a fucking cryptid. Cool.

"I'm so sorry for the mess, that was purely accidental, but I'm ever so thankful that you saved me! I didn't expect these shelves to be so flimsy.." the creature chatted, also getting up from whatever position a worm would crouch in. Allie paused for a moment, realizing she was talking with an intelligent being, and wondered if she should rethink her approach to the situation. Maybe it - or well, they, could be bargained with. She cleared her throat. "Ah well, s.. S'fine, I'm here to uh.. Clean up anyway.." she replied, trying to sound casual as she nervously flicked a few worms off of her shirt. "You work here?" the worm person asked, sounding greatly interested all of a sudden. "Ah um yes, I mean you can have... All this.." she gestured to all the quickly rotting food on the floor as it was devoured by increasing hordes of maggots. She shivered, and held back a sigh at the huge losses this would do for the business. "I don't think we can serve it to anyone anymore.. Except those uh, wiggly guys I guess" she continued, referring to the pests on the floor. It got a happy little gurgle out of the monstrous person, as they writhed a little, looking at all the feasting crawlies. "Oh how generous of you, miss! Let me make it up to you - you saved me afterall, who knows what could've become of me in this freezing room, under all that sharp metal!" they exclaimed, making Allie notice the shelves were partially shattered on impact. She was still trying to process all of this. She cleared her throat. "Make it up to me..?" what would a worm monster consider that to be?

"Why yes, I shall take you out to eat, it's only fair seeing how you've sustained my hordes so kindly with your wares!" the monster spoke in a sweet, flattered tone, almost making Allie feel less bad about the horrific pest problem they'd now have to deal with. These weren't even hers, though. What did the worm person take her for? The ceo? And by out to eat, did they mean like for dinner, or was she about to be on the menu? She felt her anxiety growing.

"What, like, on a date or something..?" she asked, laughing nervously. Please let this situation be salvageable, if she survived this she'd never complain about ordinary bugs ever again. The worm person paused, looking surprised for a split second, before breaking out into a sharp teethed smile. Allie swallowed in cold sweat, realizing they'd probably taken that seriously. "Awh, well.." they twirled the very tail of their head worm on their finger, coyly, and Allie could've sworn the monster was blushing, but their face couldn't have possibly gotten more flushed and raw looking than that. "Well, I'd be delighted to go on a date with you, miss..?" they giggled, now asking Allie to fill in her name, speaking in a sort of old fashioned way.

".. Allie." she replied, at a loss. "A-and.. You are..?"

"Madam wormstress more formally, but I suppose you could call me miss Margaretta" they squeaked in a very swooning voice. Allie couldn't believe the fact that after being single for like three years, she somehow made some worm abomination think she's smooth. She wondered if she should be concerned about this - insulted or flattered, that a creature like that found her so charming. "Oh, um, madam.?" she took a moment to register that. Was that supposed to indicate some status? She gave a lookover to what Allie realized to essentially be a monster girl. Woman? How old was she?

"Mm?" Margaretta hummed, tilting her head. Allie searched for the words, surprised at the fact that she was flustered by this. "Ah um, sure yeah, let's.. Go out for dinner.. Sometime. Miss. I mean, I'm like bisexual, so, um.." she stuttered. She was almost as clumsy with humans too, unfortunately. Luckily dating hadn't been in her priorities that much, otherwise she'd probably feel like a loser. "How wonderful! It's a date then! And oh, what might that mean then? I happen to be a multiworm hybrid so I cannot give you the exacts on that, but I'm certain our species differences can be navigated." Margaretta babbled. Allie blinked a few times, sniffling from the cold. "Oh um, right, okay, do I.. Meet you here, or..?" she wasn't sure if she should take the time to explain the concept of bisexuality to an inhuman entity on their first encounter.

"Why of course, I shall pick you up from here then, is this time tomorrow okay for you?" Margaretta gurgled in a cheery tone, twirling her fingers. Allie was a bit dumbfounded. Was this worm gonna take her to an actual restaurant? Or were there restaurants for monsters then? What if a worm's idea of a dinner was just dumpster diving? Allie reminded herself that this could still end up in her getting eaten if she wasn't careful.

"Uhh, sure."

#My writing #my ocs #Allie #Tw maggots #Body horror #Margaretta wormer #Monster girl #Horror writing #Sfw terato #Monster wlw #monster x human #Yes. Nodding. It's spooky season time to bring out my monster babes teehee #Tw mild trypophobia

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5eraphim · 10 months

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Can I request a oneshot of nsfw yandere sniper x s/o with a predator/prey kink. ;)

Uh, so this one went in a super weird direction- but like, Sniper is sososo hard to write for! I'm sorry if this isn't quite what you were looking for, but I tried my best to incorporate the prompt, while twisting it into something fun to write. Sniper isn't my cup of tea, but with this dynamic- („ᵕᴗᵕ„) I've wanted to write something a little exophilic forever, and this request seemed like an apt enough place to do it! I hope you're ok with the odd way this turned out, and I really hope you enjoy!

In this story Reader is a hunter hired to poach a wild beast terrorizing a local's livestock. But when face to face with the monster their roles reverse and Reader has to try and escape becoming Sniper's newest prey.

Title: Poacher's Pride

Character: Werewolf!Sniper 🦘 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: X (MINORS DNI- YOU KNOW THIS AINT FOR YOU)

Content Warnings: Dub-con, exophilia, mild terato, Dark!Sniper, werewolf, breeding kink, angst-y ending, stalking, yandere, possessive behavior, mates, size difference, forced cuddling/intimacy

Work Count: 5.6k

TIP JAR

MASTER LIST

You were a hunter. This was a fact. No matter how unfamiliar the terrain or how fearsome the prey was, you were the one with a gun, the killer. So long as you had your gun and wits about you, nothing would change this. The less charitable would call you a poacher, hunting down the rarest prey you could find to sell to the highest bidder. Perhaps this was more accurate, but you hardly cared as long as you had enough money to keep food on the table.

Tonight's mission was nothing special, a report of a wild animal feeding on a farmer's livestock and unnatural howling at night disturbing the farm's residents. While you found it unusual that the farmer who commissioned you to kill the beast couldn't identify the species, as you'd expect one who spent so much time working with animals would know their predators by now. But the farmer was an older man, likely a bit superstitious, and feared whatever creature it was preying upon his livestock was some kind of cryptid or supernatural entity. Though you were far too skeptical to really worry about the paranormal as you listened to the farmer recounting his stories of this monster striking every full moon, the other-worldliness of the howls he heard in the night, none of which you paid much mind to, but nodded and let him speak anyhow.

Of course, it was easy to tell yourself you didn't believe in monsters during the daylight, but now that you were staking out alone in the middle of the night, you weren't quite so resolute. Despite your fear, you didn't move from your post; hidden in forest foliage a moderate distance from the livestock's pen, you sunk deep into the shadows. Milky-white moonlight illuminated the clearing around you, filtered through the canopy above. It was a full moon, and whatever it was you were hunting was sure to be out any moment.

You couldn't help but notice the absence of nocturnal insects you were so used to hearing on nighttime stakeouts. You couldn't hear any buzzing from flying insects; no birds were around, nor any other nocturnal creature you could perceive in the darkness. Making you feel all the more alone as seemingly every other living creature knew to keep away from this area while this elusive predator was on the prowl.

The wind rustling trees overhead helped break up the eerie silence that settled so heavily around you. As the wind picked up, you could hear the sheep beginning to bleat nervously, you swore you felt the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, but you weren't sure the sudden temperature drop was to blame. A tree in the distance swayed noisily, creaking as the wind continued to flow through the forest.

Time moved painfully still, and you worried the night would never end until a twig snapping in the distance caught your full attention. Your head shot toward the sound, immediately noticing movement in the bushes diagonal to where you were hidden.

You steeled yourself, gritting your teeth almost painfully tight, forcing your eyes to remain focused dead ahead on the rustling bushes, waiting at any second for some kind of creature to emerge. You were expecting some massive wolf, or a cougar, or some kind of hulking mammal to crawl its way from the bushes, but when you watched an unmistakably humanoid figure crawling on all fours from the bushes, you couldn't believe your eyes.

What you saw was like nothing you'd seen before, the mere sight of this creature freezing you in place; your mouth went dry as you lowered your rifle from the firing position with shaking hands. The beast sniffed at the air, turning it's head in your direction, eyes shining like shards of flint in the night, making your blood run cold, before turning his attention back to the sheep's pen. His head locked in their direction as he rose from all fours to standing upright, forcing you to realize just how massive this beast truly was. Your stomach flipped as the enormous creature's head tilted back to howl in some kind of hellish, animalistic scream, though disturbingly, with undertones of an unmistakably human-like cry. Like a man imitating a wolf's cry, but far, far more accurately than ought to be humanly possible.

This thing- it wasn't human, a man specifically. It was so massive you were too far away to guess its height, but you didn't need to come any closer to know that while standing on two legs. From the tips of its protruding wolf-like ears to its clawed feet, it was taller than any human you'd seen before. A bushy wolf-like tail flicked back and forth behind him, almost as distracting as the horrific way this creature's legs were visibly non-human, even while obscured under a thick coat of fur.

You were utterly horrified, but you forced yourself to hold your ground, waiting for the monster to look the other way, allowing you to raise your loaded rifle to a firing stance and pull the trigger. The sound of the gun going off cut through the heavy silence of the night, though the sound was nothing compared to the sound of the beast's cry.

To your horror, despite the shot sounding as though it connected with his body, nothing happened. Your eyes were wide with fear and disbelief as you watched the creature turn its head in your direction, eyes narrowing as it growled. With fumbling fingers, you pumped the rifle, firing again to the same effect. Your heart hammered loudly in your ears as you saw the monster continue to growl, not at all fazed by the bullets as it lowered itself to all fours, tail straight out behind before charging in your direction.

Without sparing a second to think about where you were going, you sprinted deeper into the forest. Too blinded by fear to realize how dangerous it was to run back into the woods like this, but currently, the only thing on your mind was getting as much distance between you and the wild animal as you could. You had a decent head start but didn't know how long that would last. Straying from the main path through the woods, you tried to weave your way through the overgrowth to throw him off your scent. While whatever it was chasing you down was much bigger and faster, you tried to use human agility to your advantage, doing the best you could to avoid getting clotheslined by any of the foliage in the forest. Earlier that day, it rained, and water still drenched the leaves and branches, soaking into your clothes as you ran by. But worse was the slick mud and puddles of water covering your track, making it all the harder to keep running as your feet threatened to slip out from under you at any moment.

The thundering sound of footsteps in the distance spurred you on. You were too scared to even look back; hearing the snarling and barking of the creature behind made you afraid enough that you didn't need a closer look. The longer you ran, the less light seemed to reach you; the tree's overgrowth was so dense now, the dark shadows of the forest warping your visibility, making you flinch in terror at the sight of even the slightest motion in the corners of your vision.

It was only a matter of time before the wolf caught up to you. It was inevitable. You were on borrowed time and didn't have much longer. Your fate was sealed when you finally lost your footing. Before realizing what happened, you went from upright, running full speed, to crashing into the dirt. You hit the ground hard, bracing your fall with your forearms, enough to protect your face and head, preventing serious injury, though unable to spare yourself the pain of the impact. For just a beat, you lay motionless, too dazed from the fall to move. While you were lucky you hadn't accidentally knocked your head against something when you fell, you felt the wind knock from your lungs. The feeling is not exactly painful, but struggling to breathe only intensified your fear and disorientation. You were so far from home, and the night so dark the situation felt more like a nightmare than reality.

Initially, you thought you slipped while running, but you soon noticed the feeling of cold metal around your ankle. Still in a daze, you craned your head over your shoulder, looking down at your leg, seeing a silver wire looped around your ankle, a snare. You blinked once, feeling closer to death than ever before, the wild fear flooding your mind now replaced with an icy certainty. You were about to die, and you could do nothing to save yourself now. Weeping bitterly, you saw the shrubs close behind parting, the monster's face for just an instance before you squeezed your eyes shut tight, ducking your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, curling into a little ball, and waiting for the killing blow.

Time stood still as you cowered in fear, listening to the stalking creature drawing closer, knowing you had nowhere to run now. While you couldn't see him, keeping your head down and eyes shut tight, you could smell him. The blood caught in his fur mats, the scent of the forest trapped in his coat, the gore from his hot breath. He was getting closer. You couldn't take it anymore, and as you heard another low growl and felt a clawed "hand" wrap around your leg to pull you closer, your anxiety spiked, making you black out.

For a long while, you were somewhere between awake and sleeping. Too scared and too dizzy to open your eyes or try to "wake up," but still, on some level, perceptive of the world around you. You felt like you were dreaming and silently hoped that if you were dead, the pain was already over, and this feeling of passing away would remain gentle forever.

It was impossible to track time, too woozy to try, too numb to care, but after a while, you realized you weren't moving anymore. Laying in a heap of something soft and dusty-smelling, gingerly easing movement back into your body by groping at the material with your fingers and toes. A fire crackled a short ways away, and the air smelt an odd combination of fresh and stale. And finally, with a little focus, you managed to open your eyes.

Apparently, you weren't dead after all, but you couldn't guess where you were now. Some kind of shack, probably still deep in the woods somewhere. You could hear the rain picking up again outside as tiny beads of rain patted against the windows and tin roof. Fire danced in a fireplace on the other end of the shack, illuminating the chipped paint on the walls and cracks in the plaster.

Your stomach dropped when you realized you weren't alone; sitting in the corner of the room, somewhat obscured by shadows, the werewolf sat staring at you, sitting back on his hunches, his yellow eyes watching you intently as you finally woke up.

Bizarrely enough, you realized the closer you were to the wolf, the more human he appeared. Despite the shaggy hair running down his neck and shoulders like a mane and wolf-like ears, his face remained strikingly human-esque. Aside from his yellow eyes and sharp teeth, of course. He looked almost docile like this, but you didn't dare move.

He crept forward slowly on his hands and knees, making you sit up to push yourself away instinctively, but when you saw the blankets covering your chest fall away, you realized you were completely naked under the covers. Gripping the blanket tight in your hand to protect yourself, you looked at him, bewildered.

"Clothes were all wet. You were shivering… Warm yet?" He spoke in fragments, voice low and almost raspy, as though he'd just started talking for the first time in ages. You weren't exactly in a bed, more so a massive pile of blankets and a few pillows pushed into the corner of the room, but it was better than being back out in the rain. You nodded, watching him perching at the foot of the bed.

In a weak voice, you managed, "Where?"

You were too muddled to find the right words, but he responded. The wolf-man seemed able to pick up on your emotions, even if you couldn't elaborate verbally.

"My den. Other wolves were out. You're safe here." He spoke bluntly. You felt safe assuming while biologically he was, at best, humanoid, he was intelligent enough to communicate and, judging by the dirty shack he called a den, lived a lifestyle not entirely unlike a human's.

"They won't hurt you here."

You didn't respond, just nodded. He was closer now, within reaching distance, but your back was against the wall; you could push away any further, even if you wanted to. His attention dropped from your face to the blankets you were nestled amid, reaching under the blankets until he found your feet while you eyed him wearily.

You tensed when he pulled them closer, pushing away the blankets to expose you from your shins down.

He began to lean down a little closer to your body, making you instinctively back up a little, making him pause, sitting at the foot of the nest frowning, looking at you with an almost child-like pout. "Won't hurt you. Can make it better."

You didn't realize what he meant until he gestured to the laceration encircling just above your ankle, where you caught on the snare. Now that you were really looking at it, it was a bit deeper than you thought, and you'd gotten a few other nasty abrasions from your little game of chase earlier.

Before you could do anything to stop him, you watched him gripping your injured leg in place with one hand as he leaned his head to the wound before running the flat of his tongue over the cut. You jolted, squirming a little in discomfort, but he wouldn't budge, ignoring your whines of distress as he continued to lap against the wounded skin.

Forcing yourself to breathe slowly, convincing yourself there was still some chance you would make it out of the night alive, you stopped fighting him, ignoring how his fangs would lightly scrape against your flesh as he licked up and down your leg. You had to suppress another spike of fear as he gently pulled the blankets away from you. His eyes flicked up from your wounds to your exposed skin for a moment as he continued working. After another moment, he pulled away, and you sighed in relief.

The respite didn't last too long, however, as he only pulled away so he could crawl on top of you, making your eyes widen, hands drawing into tight fists as you were unable to fully mask your rising dread. You held your breath until he stopped moving, sitting on his knees and elbows over your body. Despite the position, you couldn't ignore how bizarrely mellow he appeared. Very calmly leaning down to run his tongue along your shoulder, making you shiver as the wet muscle made contact with the sensitive skin of your neck.

Aside from your fear, you had to strain yourself to keep a poker face and ignore the light ticklish sensation you felt. The feeling of his tongue running along your cheek finally caused a break in your composure. "What the hell are you doing?"

The werewolf cocked his head to the side. "I'm grooming you."

He said it so bluntly, as though it were perfectly normal for humans to give each other tongue baths. While the shock and discomfort had greatly worn off by now, the feeling was invasive all the same.

"Still hurt?" the werewolf asked. You hated how heartfelt he sounded, confused why a predator species would be so caring concerning your comfort and safety like this. For some reason, you almost felt reluctant to ask him to stop as he looked at you with puppy eyes, not understanding why you wouldn't let him get closer to you.

"No, but.." As he watched you, you trailed off, waiting for you to explain yourself. After a beat of silence, he resumed his work. Snuggling his head tight up against yours.

"Don't want this-" You protested, but Harold sounded sincere.

"Won't hurt you." His words were muffled as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling, coddling his face against your hair. You went rigid as you felt him take a test bite against your skin, his sharp teeth just barely scraping against the side of your neck while his hands palmed at your body beneath his. While the nest you were brought to was comfortable enough to work as a human bed, the smell of the dog was too distracting for you to relax too much.

He moved his hands from your chest down to your own hands, clasping them with his own as he brought them from laying limp beside you to the sides of his scalp. Your fingers were instantly lost in the bird's-nest-like mess that was his shaggy mane.

"Keep them here."

He wanted scritches? In an act of morbid curiosity, you allowed your hands to ruffle at the fur, feeling his ears twitching a little as you brushed them with your fingertips. Your fingers moved on their own as they tangled into his hair. His hands dropped as you kept yours in place, and he made an odd, almost humming-moan, his tail beginning to wag steadily as you continued to work your fingers in his hair. When your fingers grazed the sides of his ears a little harder, you watched them twitching a little harder, and you couldn't help but stare, wanting to touch them so badly. He didn't pull away when you shyly traced a finger from the base of his ears to prod gently at the side, nor when you cupped your hand against the soft thing, letting you feel him up with curious fingers, smiling to himself, quite enjoying the gentle touch of another after so much time in isolation before now.

"What are you?" You whispered to yourself, feeling him nuzzle into you.

"Human once, something different now."

You were about to ask what he meant by this when you felt something hard grazing the top of your thigh, making you freeze. He was breathing much heavier now, pressing himself against you a little harder, pushing his pelvis forward to grind against the top of your thigh. You could feel the blankets originally piled somewhat neatly earlier starting to bunch up and the pillows falling to the side and tumbling in different directions. You could hear the sound of cloth tearing and realized it was likely the sound of his clawed feet getting tangled up in the blankets, accidentally shredding them in the process.

"Keep going- C'mon, more! I need more, more!" He begged and whined, still rutting against you, his hands finding yours again, guiding you to keep playing with his hair, scratching him behind the ear, doing whatever you were doing that was driving him crazy.

You felt an unwanted stir as he continued to grind against you, moaning and panting against your neck, into your ear. His hands separated to return to your body, wanting to feel your curves beneath him. As he continued to play with your flesh, you could hear the werewolf inhaling, catching the scent of something, pausing for a moment as he sniffed, his eyes drifting shut as he sighed, practically moaning out loud.

"You like this?" His ears were perked upright, and pupils were dilated as he looked at you expectantly. Feeling blood rushing to your cheeks, you shook your head, feeling too overwhelmed to think clearly. But your reluctance only excited him more. He grinned ferally, mouth opening giving you a quick flash of his sharp teeth as he popped two fingers into his mouth, coating them with spit before pulling them out, watching you with eager eyes as they trailed down your stomach until they halted just above your clit.

Without stalling any longer, you felt his two fingers pressing up against the sensitive nub, feeling your heartbeat increase and blood rushing south as he got a little bolder. Collecting the slick between your legs, using it to glide his fingers in gentle circles against you, making your breath hitch and your body tense up. How in the world he knew how to pleasure another human, you couldn't imagine, but he was doing a damn good job of it. You swallowed hard, he was much more adept at keeping his claws to himself than you imagined, and his fingers felt inhumanly big in the best possible way.

Everything was moving so fast; one minute, you were arching your back underneath him, and the next, you were face down under him. The werewolf pulled away just enough to kneel over you. The feeling of his hands on your waist brought you crashing back to reality, reigniting the fear you'd shamefully forgotten.

Before he could pull you any closer, you inched forward a bit, trying to keep your voice steady despite the wild beating of your heart. "It's not too late, just let me go- Please, if you just let me go, you'll never see me again! I won't tell anyone what I saw!" You pressed your cheek against the blankets trying your best to crane your face to the side and look at him but found no mercy.

"Don't want- you can't leave!" You paused, looking up at him, brows creasing. "Did he almost say he didn't want me to go?" you wondered, noticing how he caught himself, a bit of vulnerability breaking through his intimidation.

"If I let you go. You'll kill me." Before now, even when threatening or intimidating you, there was a note of playfulness to his voice that was gone now. Despite the morbid way the two of you met, he couldn't entirely hide his excitement of bringing a little fresh meat home and, by extension, not having to spend another night alone.

"I-" He didn't give you a chance to defend yourself.

"Tell me again, what were you hiding out in those bushes earlier?"

You were paralyzed with fear, your mind going blank as his yellow eyes narrowed and his voice lowered to an animalistic growl. His lips drew back in a snarl, bearing his sharp canine-like teeth as you felt his hot breath against your bare flesh as he breathed heavily. You wanted to make up some lie about only shooting him because he startled you, but you knew something like that wouldn't work on him. While the beast wasn't entirely a wild animal, he didn't possess a human's capacity for reason. And with a sinking realization, you knew no amount of begging for mercy, logical reasoning, or threats of retaliation would do anything to stop him. You were now just moments away from meeting your fate, and you could do nothing but accept it.

You might've cried if you had any strength left, but not anymore. The best you could do for yourself was close your eyes and try to flinch as you felt him peel away a little, sitting back on his haunches before pushing you over and repositioning you to lay flat on your stomach.

You could feel his saliva and some of your slick still smeared along your sex and inner thighs as he used both hands to grab at your ass, hoisting you up as he positioned himself from behind. Forcing you to bend your knees and arch your back up as he situated himself on his knees from behind. Just the feeling of his head against your core made you squirm in discomfort, though unable to pull away from his hold. You moved your arms from your sides to in front of you, burrowing your head in your forearms. The position was the opposite of dignified, but at least he wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing the look on your face as he took you.

"I can tell you're scared; I can smell your fear, and I can't say I blame you. But let's see if you'll make a better mate than a hunter." You couldn't tell if he was trying to comfort or mock you, as though that even mattered. The feeling of his tip prodding at your core told you, whether he tried to be gentle or not, you'd feel this in the morning.

The thick fur covering his underbelly helped to conceal his size before now, even while hard, but you had a feeling he'd be big. It was so odd to feel an animal's fur against your thighs as you felt an unmistakably non-human cock push inside you. While terrified, you thanked God he'd taken the time to prepare your hole.

While the feeling of stretching around his cock stung, but you couldn't ignore the satisfaction you felt; at last, the emptiness you'd felt was satisfied. You were expecting so much more pain and brutality, but the beast took his time. As though he wanted to make the moment last as long as he could. Given the sound of his labored breathing through grit teeth from behind, you could tell he was trying to hold back. Your thighs spread as you slumped forwards a bit as he pushed inside, making you bite down on your forearm to keep from whining.

"You're So warm! So, so soft inside- hah, S'good" He repositioned his hands from your hips to your back, shoving you down even harder as he pushed all the way inside. He was pushing your chest so hard into the nest it was hard to breathe. You had no idea if he could even tell what he was doing to you or if he was already so blinded by his own pleasure.

His claws pressed a little harder against the flesh of your back, not enough to draw blood, but enough to remind you he could do so in a second if he wanted to. The beast kept one hand on your back, the other sliding forward to meet your own hand. Using his massive hand, he guided yours from in front of you back down to your side before fully seizing your hand, bringing it under your belly, groping downwards and around for a moment until he managed to find your clit.

Forcing your fingers against your clit he growled, "Touch yourself for me. Wanna- I wanna know what you feel like when you come."

Something about the loss of control, the fear and adrenaline overrunning your body, made perverse moments feel sickly exciting. And you didn't hold back much longer, your fingers rubbing circles over your swollen clit as he pulled out and began to rock back and forth. Your body limply moving in rhythm with the overwhelming force from behind.

Your cheek flattened against the blankets as he dug his claws a little harder into your back, raking your bare skin as he began to pick up speed. The pain and pleasure overtook your mind as you felt yourself getting even wetter, your hand moving even faster over your clit. He was already so hard, but you could've sworn you felt him swelling up a little inside you. You didn't want to think about what would happen after he inevitably came inside you. The only thing on your mind now was your own climax, the smell of sex in the air spurring you on, making you hornier, needier, exactly like the wolf behind you.

Closing your eyes, you felt yourself tightening against the werewolf, your muscles acting with a mind of their own as you could feel your climax coming on; the feeling of your body so hot and painfully close to orgasm was driving him wild, knowing he wouldn't last much longer than you. And sure enough, with a breathy sigh of relief, you came. Feeling your body gripping against the werewolf as you grinded yourself against him, riding out your orgasm as long as possible.

The afterglow set in not long after, making the feeling of the werewolf behind you thrusting in and out wildly much more bearable. You gasped out loud when you felt him bust, his seed fucked deep inside your body while you two were momentarily forced to remain connected. Fortunately, this didn't last as long as you feared it would, and not long after his climax, you felt the swelling between your legs going down, giving you enough wiggle room to pull yourself off him. As far away as you could while he was still pressing his weight down on your back.

Feeling a bit more clear-headed after cumming, you began to try and pull further away from the monster behind, but he still had you pinned, and the longer you were like this, the more aware you were of the sting of the scratch marks on your back, making you feel like a cornered mouse under a cat's paw. Thankfully he eventually lifted his weight from behind you, finally allowing you to take a deep breath as he sat back on his haunches, likely enjoying the view of your abused body limp and sprawled out like this in his nest.

After a moment, you heard him shifting behind you, repositioning the pillows and blankets in his nest as you lay face down in the center. He pulled you from your stomach to your side as you instinctively curled into the fetal position. The werewolf propped you against some pillows as though you weighed nothing before sliding into bed beside you, gently coaxing your body from a tight ball to wrap around him, tucking your head under his chin. Burying your head against his chest, you could hear the slow thumping of his heart as his hands smoothed against your back and hair.

Everything felt surreal; the creature you were so certain would end your life less than a few hours ago now had you curled up against him like a teddy bear. Making sure you were comfortable and not smothered by his thick tufts of hair. Your self-preservation instincts told you to let him do as he pleased with you. The last thing you wanted was to provoke him into another round of what you'd just endured. But even without saying anything, you felt his head shift away from you to face you. His brow creased slightly in what appeared to be confusion.

"You're still scared?"

"I don't understand… Why haven't you killed me yet? You're a predator- surely you could've done it by now; what are you waiting for?" You bit your lower lip, hoping desperately he wouldn't take that as a challenge.

"You're not my prey anymore." To your surprise, he didn't sound upset, his voice notably softer than you'd heard all night, as though trying not to frighten you. You wanted him to explain what he meant but were too scared to ask. You let him pull your back under his chin, his fingers twisting around your hair.

"I'll protect you. But if you try to leave me, I'll have to stop you." As quickly as it had come, the softness in his voice was gone.

"We're one now. And the longer you're here, the closer we'll be." You didn't understand what he meant by this. You were still oblivious to what this creature was, and you were too terrified to speculate about what was now inside of you.

"You can't really think we'll be together forever after this, do you?" It was hard to tell if you were trying to convince him of this or yourself.

You wanted to believe he was wrong, a wild animal with no concept of forever, but by now, you knew he was far from entirely bestial. "I… I don't understand."

"We're mates now. We're bonded for life." You were well aware that it was dangerous to provoke him, but despite his bluntness, he sounded notably calm, and you couldn't keep your curiosity to yourself.

"What does it mean to be mates? How can you be so sure we're mated for life?" You had to choose your words carefully, trying your best to avoid saying something like, "your kind mate for life." to prevent the risk of offending him.

"I know so." He was so blunt and sure of himself that it scared you, and you had a bad feeling he wasn't just trying to intimidate you.

For a moment, he was quiet, as though trying to choose his next words carefully. "I've been a lone wolf for years now. It's miserable; I can't go back to that."

He paused again, and you were unfortunately forced to remember the monster curled around you like a fur coat was once a human and, to some unknowable degree, still was. You didn't want to see him as anything but a brute, an animal acting on primal impulses, but you knew this wasn't true. And if you were in his position, spending years as a reclusive creature of the night, forced to live in the shadows like a stray, you might be just as desperate to escape such a purgatory.

"But, I'm not like you; people are going to come try to find me-" The wolf interrupted Before you could finish the thought.

"I won't let them take you. I'll protect you. Keep you here as long as it takes for you to settle."

It wasn't a promise; it was a fact. Just as it was a fact, so long as the werewolf lived, you weren't going anywhere.

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carnivorousyandeere · 6 months

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Lan laying back and pretending to relax, arms crossed behind her head— you’d almost think she was unaffected, if you couldn’t make out her flushed cheeks and little fangs peeking out as she bites her lip, through the tears beading your lashes.

( MDNI, No Age In Bio DNI )

CW: terato, naga fucking, tail fucking, bondage, asphyxiation, mild/unintentional humiliation, cnc vibes

Info: gn sub bottom reader

You’re suspended in midair, wrapped in the coils of her tail while the tip of it slides wetly in and out of your entrance. The vulnerability, the humiliation, the tight squeeze of her coils around your midsection make you feel like you could pass out… Lan watches you intently from under her bangs, savoring every twitch of your cute human body and watching tears stream down your cheeks as you beg. Begging for what, she’s not sure. Hells below, you don’t seem to be sure yourself— every time she stops like you ask her to, you only squirm harder and cry for her to keep going. Lan breathes in deeply, trying to focus on you over the burning need coiling in her own gut. Humans are so confusing…

#oc Lan #naga #yandere naga #yandere lamia #lamia #my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere cw #mdni #nsft #yandere smut

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succubusapphic · 3 months

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(updated 4/17/24) || about me 💕

i'm kitty/kitten! (it's my name not a title) i'm 23!

demi-bisexual femme, t4t, tme + white

nonbinary/genderqueer/bigender

any pronouns! she/they/it/fae/he etc

i am autistic pls be patient w me ♾️

sub bottom primarily, a bit domme bottom

i am a single virgin here to blog sexily 😌

femme4butch/masc identities primarily

if u wanna tip me, my c@shapp is $kittysapphic 💝

my pics are tagged #succubusapphic

my interests include getting really high and hitting shit with my zweihander in dark souls remastered ⚔️ and breasting boobily 🍒

anons/asks are welcome if you're 21+, just be wary of what's here on my pinned, and if you want to claim an anon emoji say so! none claimed so far. if i'm not into it i won't answer n if ur a jerk i'll block lol

i block minors, terfy racist bigot shit, ageless/blank blogs, cishet men, and just anyone i am not comfortable with 👍

kinky stuff i like in no particular order, some things are marked just or mostly fantasy* (except literal fantasy genre lol) + limits

monsterfucking / terato, the more romantic/lovingly motivated the better, the size difference is nice as well lol. robots and aliens are included here too 💚 (#terato, #robots)

sexual/clit overstimulation (#overstim)

breeding/creampies (not pregnancy or birth) (#breeding) *?

light humiliation/degradation (#humiliation)

sexy stuff while being stoned, very surface level intox i'm just a horny stoner lol (#intox)

nipple stimulation, clit stimulation

some hucow stuff (breeding, degradation, outfits, nipple/tit stimulation and attention) (#hucow)

spanking, flogging (#impact)

anal, double penetration (#anal)

pre-consensual free use and exhibition situations (#free use) *

knight + princess/maiden stuff is nice, not necessarily about regency but it doesn't hurt (#knights)

masks/face coverings like knight helmets, tactical helmets (not explicitly military anything just the look), ghostface mask type shit (#masks or #mask kink idk lol)

temperature/ice play

service doms/tops 🩷

body worship

fingerbanging

cockwarming (strap/tdick included ofc) (#cockwarming)

dirty talk (praise, humiliation, just in general)

dry humping/grinding

light cbt/cb/ct *?

softer limits:

armpits and sweat/scent (idm if you like it or like it from me i just dont have interest in it for myself)

hard pet play *

hard impact play (depends how u define)

being called or calling ppl baby/babygirl/babe/kitten/puppy or any babyish term of endearment (just doesnt work for me, sorry! i interact with it sometimes but am not comfortable using those words mostly)

daddy/mommy titles (never in an ageplay way if so)

tickling

hypno stuff

prop knives or guns

very very very mild breath play

hard limits:

cnc/hard cnc (some things i post may be considered cnc but for me are enthusiastic and maybe bashful, consensual, kinky fantasy)

ageplay

scat, vomit

choking / breath play

fingers in mouth/finger sucking

rimming

real knives or guns (besides photos idk)

feeder/feedee

gore/guro/snuff

somnophilia

misgendering/detransition stuff

fauxcest, ddlg, r4pe terms, kidnapping stuff, etc isnt consented to here, i prefer it to be tagged completely so i can blacklist it.

noncon r4ceplay zoo shit "MAP" shit and pro ana/ed stuff is flat out not accepted here at all bye ✋ blocked and reported

#succubusapphic #is my pic tag #succubusapphic ocs #succubusapphic art #self explanitory!#mine #is for my posts #the rest are:#art #people #history #resource #save #fave #femme stuff #self rb

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creamkisses · 2 months

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disclaimer : tags are not consistent! please take care while hornyscrolling thru my blog <3 if ur uncomfy with me rb'ing anything of yours, just lmk and i'll delete!

❕❕dni minors, ageless blogs, pedos, racists, homo/transphobes, bigots❕❕ i block if i feel uncomfortable in any way

hii u can call me cream !! ཐི❤︎ཋྀ 🕸️

bi . transmasc . he/they . ★⋆ 20 ⋆★ .

white, 5’3, virgin -᷅ ⸝⸝⸝⸝ -᷄ effeminate twink

sub/bottom

emo on the outside ‎.𖥔 ݁ ˖ gooey on the inside

melt me … good/pretty/babyboy, son, whore, baby, dove, bun/bunny, angel, kiddo, little bro, sweetheart, sweetie, doll, slut, little one, prince, cutie

both masc/fem body terms r okay!! except for b00bs. don’t rlly like that one

loveꨄ’s : age gap , smoking (both🍃&🚬) , possessiveness , blood (nosebleeds n bloody knuckles❤︎❤︎❤︎) , hands , accents/voices , oral fixation , praise , degradation (mild) , kisses of any kind :p , fauxcest , corruption , dollification , dumbification , marking , objectification , size difference , free use , monsterfvcking/terato , breeding , dubcon/cnc (intox, somno, mild r4p3play) , cockwarming , brat taming , exhibitionism , risky/public play , omo (mild) + sososo much more

no’s ꒰ ᐢ ◞‸◟ᐢ꒱…. : unsolicited pics (ask permission first!) , scat , vomit , feet , diapers , super young ageplay (ick) , feederism , race play , n3cr0/hard gore , vore , heavy physical/impact (im more delicate than u think) , musk , beast , fisting

👤anons r welcome + 📭 asks are open + 💌 feel free to dm, but pls do know i tend to be an evening/night responder as i'm a busy busy person irl (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

i love my mutuals mwahhh

consent and communication is important, for both me n u!! if ur unsure about something, just ask!

🔎 #pers. ~ personal thoughts/posts . #crmksses ~ my nsft horny posts . #[💌] ~ asks .

rest of my tagged system is pretty self-explanatory. enjoy ur visit while ur here <33

#pinned #intro post #pers.#crmksses #bd/sm kink #ftm bottom #ftm nsft #ftm sub #ftm t4t #t4t kink #t4t nsft #trans nsft

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wulvercazz · 7 months

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🍭And So, It Begins🦇

~ October 3rd - Candy, Pole Dancing/Stripping ( Ichigo x Grimmjow ) ~ Extra tags; food play, food insertion/unsafe insertion

The Prompt List

(fic part 1 under the cut)

Ichigo has to have been staring at the rundown lot for about an hour. Or perhaps a minute.

All he's wanted as a young adult looking to get away from his homereef and out from under his father's fin - claw - is to find a decent enough job. This was supposed to be his bout of good luck- not,,, the beginning of a bad horror story.

The secretary who contacted him was real, he gave him accurate and detailed information, he heard his voice. And for what? The carcass of a school who in no reality would have ever been looking to "urgently fill a teaching position". And there was no mistaking the address he was given either. There was no other school in all of Aquacity.

He should've never come here. It's almost dark, the seabus back to Karaura reef is another six hours of travel and not even available again til morning. He feels played with, obviously frustrated, and so incredibly tired.

And the small apartment he made arrangements for prior to his travel is so lackluster and just plain sad-looking he simply doesn't feel like going there to sleep this horrible night off either.

His feet drage little clouds of sand with every step. He doesn't want to think about it, about how much of a loser he is, about how come morning he'll have to go back home with his tail between his legs and say "hey dad, missed me on the single day I was gone?"

What he could do, is get ahold of a drink, sit on a crowded bar, and perhaps find a warm body to flirt his depression away to.

He doesn't expect to find himself lost to the view of this place. People had looked at him weird at the bus central whenever they heard where he was moving; but no one ever said much of anything about the place. It looked... well, like a city. With a good few large coral buildings towering above, fancy looking roads and lots of businesses; all dark and mostly quiet as night settled above the water. The curious sight of it was all the orange and plack and purple dressing it all. The jack-o-lanterns and the star-like decorations on the doors. Everything set for Halloween like he's never seen anyone do back home, or anywhere ever. It might've looked even cheery and bright earlier... except- where's everybody?

He's not really one for holidays, barely celebrates his birthday at all even, but he knows for a fact that Halloween is supposed to happen.. at night. It's late, but not quite midnight, not so late that a place so meticulously decorated like this would be barren before the ring o the bell. Where is everybody?

As he walks, what little people had been walking by in the distance have all scurried away into their homes or simply out of sight, and more than a little mystifying,,, he's started to get a little freaked.

Ichigo quickens his steps, his one claw clicking anxiously and creating little air bubbles amidst the water, his antenna jittery as he turns about for any sign of life. And... and suddenly there is. Muffled and uninteligible, but it's the sound of music; that must be it surely... everyone's celebrating indoors and here he is... worrying over nothing.

He really hopes it is a bar, he really needs that drink now.

The light trembling of the soundspeakers reaches his body when he finds the place. "Las Noches" it reads and now he's positive it's got to be at least something like a bar. The sound grows louder with each step, and finally the last of his worries start to ease into quiet sort of defeat. He came here to forget his troubles, right? Not to investigate some sort of ghosttown mystery bullshit, even made up by his own sleep-deprived mind.

The bouncer, because there is a bouncer — a blowfish that looks just about ready to get pointier at any wrong look, asks him for a rather outrageous cover charge (like he hasn't lost enough by coming to this city in the first place) that he reluctantly pays anyway. Because anything is better than walking back through that cold street back to his sad apartment right now, if he has to do it, at least he wants to do it with a couple drinks on him. And it all looks normal, with music just loud enough to sort of drown the laughter of a few other fish, here and there, but not enough to deafen, and dim colorful lights giving more of a nightclub ambiance to the establishment, right until someone shoves a bag of halloween decorated candy in his hands and looks at him with tired disappoinment when he meets the second bouncer's face with utter confusion.

"Keep it moving," the guy says tiredly and rushes him in to move on to someone else coming in behind him.

A truly odd fucking city.

But he gets his drink, and a second drink, and he stares at the odd bag of candy from the little table he settled onto somewhere in the middle of the place. Truly, truly, odd.

He's nursing his drink, sadly staring at the funny candy inside his bag and wondering weird things about this city and whether studying medicine like his father had encouraged him to do instead of literature like he wanted would've made any difference, when a sudden burst of light and an excited disenbodied voice announces it's finally midnight.

Fish around him cheer and suddenly he's more and more lost than he was before he came into the nightclub. That is, until the music goes from contented ambiance to sultry and the colored lights reflect on what are very clearly dancing poles arranged along the front of the dark stage he'd somewhat noticed when he first sat. Oh... so it's that kind of place,,, right— huh, he's... never been good in this sort of place.

He's been to strip clubs before, back in college and only when Keigo insisted; but he's not sure he'll ever enjoy it. Not when all he ever does is give the dancers awkward half-stares and wish for sudden death when they make eye contact.

So he's not at all excited when a single dancer makes their appearance on-stage, swaying their hips up to the stage to the beat of the music and the excited cheering of everyone in the club; some dog-whistling earning other fish in the crowd a flirty wink or suggestive little shake of a pretty curled tail.

Fuck, fuck, it's not that he's a prude. Keigo teases him about his supposed virginity enough to know he thinks he is; it's just that... well, pretty people showing off their pretty bits... it gets him all flustered and weird.

Ok, perhaps he is a bit of a prude. But can you judge him? Can anyone in this weird city judge him when those wide hips in those frilly clothes sway and twist so nice along that pole? When that pretty face smiles and bites his lip so cute when perking his ass so lewd?

Pieces of the outfit start to fly and at the first peek of a rosy plush slit he starts to wish he could flee without calling too much attention to himself. But everyone around him just keeps cheering, clearly enjoying the night's entertainment; some even shout of the dancer's name, "Grimmjow~!" to call his attention, or perhaps to encourage him and his perfectly studied dance moves.

It's a rather small city in the end, everyone's bound to know each other.

And just as expected, the shouts and the cheering only bring more confident little grins to the seahorse's face; put a little more oomf to his twists, more curl to his tail. The music still sultry but somewhat more intense as he's bared himself almost fully exposed to his welcoming public. Long legs opening wide for his audience, tail wrapping sinfuly around the pole to balance himself a little more teasingly; and then people are scooching closer, leaning in to playfuly tuck...

Huh —

Fucking candy on his underwear's frilly elastic, and no one seems to mind when it falls onto the stage under its own weight.

What the fuck?

And, oh, oh shit, oh fuck. The newbie look of bewilderment in his face must be so clear from up there, that "Grimmjow" can't hide his cheeky grin when he makes his way right over to the pole standing right in front of his table.

He does as best as he can not to tremble like a little teen when he teasingly curls around the pole, and dances pretty much for him. The audience hooting and whistling for him to do something about it. And then Grimmjow slinks down the pole, all pretty teal skin and curled tail and pretty pink slit, his legs falling open in a flexible squat, back curled and grin just as much, and reaches out with his bare foot to keep teasing him further. And the sight and the foot on his neck, send shivers down his neck and right up his tail; disheveling his clothes and heating him up from his very core until he feels the water around him boil.

"Gimme a treat~" he speaks like hot velvet, voice much deeper than he expected, and that alone startles him with a hot spark right down to his crotch. Everything about him so distracting, that he doesn't quite notice when he went and curled his tail right around his claw, pulling him in right to the edge of his chair, "won't you, stranger?💕"

The only other option would've been to struggle and run like a little coward, and he wanted to, fuck he really wanted to... but somehow, the ache to see more, touch more, had him shily pulling a lollipop out the troublesome little candy bag. Grimmjow's darkened blue eyes following his every move, a quietly amused noice leaving his lips before he pulled again on his arm.

He wishes he could've stopped the scaredy little jolt of his hand when Grimmjow let go of the pole only to reach in too; unwrapping the little jack-o-lantern lollipop and canting his hips with a rather obvious request.

Fuck. Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

And his soft hand only guided his when it was obvious he'd need the push; guiding the candy to his puffy pink lips. Making him slick the hard caramel along his entrance and encouraging Ichigo to push it inside.

He might have blacked out for a second there. Quite possibly. When he felt his body give and suck the lollipop in, only the little white stick poking out of him.

And just like that, his tail maneuvered his claw and dumped it half across his lap, making a fool of him while he made a fool of himself; watching entranced as he crossed his leg over and showed off his filled slit. Everyone's hoots and screams suddenly registering back to his brain as they laughed and cheered both of them on; more dog whistles about when Grimmjow reached for the candy and fucked himself with it a couple cheeky strokes. Only to pull it out and bring it up to his lips, to suck his own slick off the treat.

Ichigo's been to strip clubs before, but nothing quite like this had ever happened to him at any of them. Not that he'd ever stayed long.

He's so dazed and tingly all over with the experience, drowned in more music and renewed screams as Grimmjow moves on with his show... that he could've sworn those little wings on his costume had no straps at all.

Find the uncensored version, as well as early access and wips to Aquacity as I draw/write it, on SubStar (link on pinned intro post)✨

#Aquacity AU #Kinktober 2023 #nsft #ichigo kurosaki #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ichigrimm #Lobster!Ichigo #Seahorse!Grimmjow #一グリ #Mild terato #hybrids #(but only sort of? they're pretty humanoid to be hybrids ngl..)#grimmIchi #Grimm has a pussy #although it's not really trans Grimm! but it does sort of seem to be- bc he's a seahorse and they have only egg pouches so #I thought in a humanoid body that might translate into having a pseudo-pussy lmao #a lot of characters will have non-human genitalia on top of their weird bodies bc I was very inspired by their animal so #I won't be tagging stuff as trans (unless I actually chose to make the character for real trans) bc it's just me doing terato-ish bodies #anyway u all know gender is my bitch and there's some characters I like to draw in many versions of its spectrum so #you'll get a lot of that in this AU too

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ash-rigby · 3 months

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The monsterfucking genre is saturated with male monsters so I just want to give a shout-out to the lesbian monsterfuckers. I reblog every hot monster lady I see to aid you guys in those trenches. Bless.

#text #mild #terato #exophilia #we do need more monster women it's not even funny

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rotworld · 7 months

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7: Metamorphosis

(previous)

the girl goes home. you visit an old friend.

->sexually suggestive. contains mild gore, ear penetration, terato, mentions of drugging, mentions of child trafficking and child abuse.

The last leg of the journey is always a thing of wonder. You unfold your crumpled, egg-stained map and marvel at the neatness of the reality, the momentary certainty of things. This is the understanding you carved out in a corner of the world. This is how far you’ve come. The Drift is mercurial. It won’t last. These cities will have scattered again, these roads you thought you knew winding in strange, new ways. But for now, for just a moment, you bask in a sense of wearied accomplishment. You are still here, despite everything.

There were tears this morning. Albie drew a map of his own depicting his family’s corner of Verlinda, landmarks painstakingly rendered in colored pencils scribbles and labeled with shaky letters. A little cottage in the forest, surrounded by trees, bordered by a stream and many smiling animals, is labeled “MY HOUSE.” He wanted to make sure the girl would be able to find her way back someday. She has it on her lap, neatly folded, clutched in her small hands.

“It’s close,” you tell her.

She watches the scenery with rapt attention, memorizing every detail. “Close,” she agrees, glancing at you in surprise. “How know?”

“See the dirt? It’s kind of a reddish color. And that spicy-sweet smell is from the mulberry gardens.” The sign is just over the hill, exactly as you remember it; a metal slab suspended between old wooden posts, bearing elegant lettering and a curling ribbon design. “Welcome to Compass Hill,” it says, and your heart beats faster in recognition, anticipation and dread. “I grew up here,” you add softly.

[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: HOW YOU REMEMBER BY AZURE RAY]

Roads into Compass Hill are long, decorated promenades of flattened cobblestone and stately scenery. Here is the visitor’s center, glass-paneled and flower-filled like a Victorian greenhouse. There is a lakeside sculpture garden with abstract figures and lanterns dotting the winding footpath. In the distance, the city’s crown jewel, a sprawling campus of red brick cathedrals—the head office and processing factory of Compass Hill Textiles.

“This used to be an awful place,” you say. “Someone might tell you the story later. Not to scare you, but because you should know. People would bring children of the road here because the company would pay them for it.”

You slow as you drive past the textiles building. They’ve kept it maintained, you notice, maybe to avoid suspicion. The lawn is trimmed, the hedges bordering the path up to the front steps neatly manicured. There’s a water fountain with an angel perched on top. The plaque set into the stone commemorates an ancient patriarch of the Dewitt family, a name emblazoned all over town. It was the Dewitts who built the mill, after all, a dynasty of textile magnates made wealthy by the harvest and refinement of exquisite silks.

You point to the factory. “I used to live there. It looks nice from outside, but most of the space is for machinery. Rows and rows of rattling, whirring things that took up whole rooms. The kids who couldn’t weave slept in the cramped, overheated basement, right under all the noise. Eventually, we’d get our license and start delivering silk.” The girl studies the building with a small frown. “It’s different now,” you assure her. “The factory’s closed. Nobody has to sleep on a concrete floor anymore.”

There’s a gate just beyond the factory. Curling wrought iron arches form symmetrical shapes where they meet, an insectoid body with large, sweeping wings. You can hear something just faintly; a buzzing hum. A faraway melody. The gates pull apart with a loud metallic clattering, welcoming you inside. In your rearview mirror, you see a large shape on the roof of the old textile factory. It crouches, spreads its wings, and flits away. The girl sits up sharply, startled and curious.

“Probably went to tell everyone we’re here,” you say.

“Everyone?” she asks. Something catches her eye and she turns back towards the window, her eyes widening.

“Everyone. You’re home.”

Beyond the gate is the true, new Compass Hill, built on the bones of the old. Structures are soft and rounded rather than angular, wispy, cloud-like material woven across the city skyline. Gossamer threads sparkle in dazzling neon shades and subdued earth tones alike. The schoolhouse is a powdery blue dome with rocks and flowers woven around the entrance, while the open air marketplace is adorned with rippling canopy shades and decorative arches. Everything is silk as only Compass Hill knows it, exquisite color and unbelievably versatile texture.

But the girl isn’t looking at the buildings. She’s looking at the people. Peering through honeycomb windows and ambling into the street, a crowd gathers, curiously chittering, all around your car. You stop in the middle of the road to let them see her, and for her to see them. Scaled skin and shimmering carapaces, wings and claws and softly clicking mandibles, bristle-thin hairs and thick, curly manes. The people of Compass Hill are as varied as the silk they spin. A child with slender vespid wings and gangly, striped arms comes right up to the window and the girl stares back at her with tears filling her four eyes.

“Home!” she wails. “Home! Home!” You unlock the door and she tumbles into the waiting arms of family she has only dreamed of. A woman, pale pink and violet with a mantis’ tapered abdomen and sharp, hooked fingers, gently works the knots from the girl’s hair. The hum rises, louder now, a gentle, rolling melody of a thousand voices harmonizing. It’s the Song, welcoming you both. When you step out of the car, you’re swarmed with gentle touches and fond nuzzling.

“You’re back.” There’s a pleased purring beside your ear as four soft, lightly furred arms encircle you from behind. You recognize her quiet, higher-pitched notes before you see her. Chiffon is one of the oldest weavers in Compass Hill, her great wings as thick and heavy as a blanket. She slips in front of you, taking each of your hands in hers, the other two free to cup your face. Her four eyes arch in worry. “Where have you been? And where are you going?”

“I’ll have to show you my map. It’s been a long trip,” you say. Chiffon chitters with laughter, a sound echoed all the way down the street as she passes the joke through the Song. “And I don’t know where I’m going yet. I was in a hurry to get here before the next shift.”

“Your hand…” She’s gentle with it, fingers worrying the skin all around your bandages. “I’ll have a look at this later. You’ll stay the night. Rest. He’ll be so happy to see you.” Your smile wanes. Chiffon squeezes your hands, reassuring but also pleading. “Please,” she sings softer. “Please go see him.”

You hear a delighted warble, the melody rising. The girl looks startled, clutching a wad of fresh, glistening silk in her hand, small string still connected to her mouth. The color is like a sunrise, a blue ombre glinting with strands of gold. One of the old weavers bends down and shows her how to braid it, tying off the ends so it doesn’t fray. “That’s hopesilk,” he says, pausing his singing so she can understand him. “Very strong, and very pretty. Someone believes in you very much.”

You wipe at your eyes and nod at Chiffon. The crowd parts for the two of you as a slow, undulating note enters the Song, a bittersweet melody. They’ve missed you. They wish you’d stay.

The Dewitt estate is at the very edge of town. Similar grand manors and luxurious homes dot the hills but the others are old, fallen into disrepair. The fences have crumbled, the stately brickwork has eroded, and mulberry branches snake out of the broken windows. They are Verlinda’s by right but remain, dilapidated and unoccupied, out of respect for the children of Compass Hill and everything they have endured.

It is only the Dewitt estate, all the way at the top of the hill, that is still maintained. Someone cuts the grass and trims the hedges. Someone fixes the roof when it leaks. Someone leaves food at the door. As you get closer, you hear a piercing scream from somewhere inside. “How is he?” you ask.

Chiffon feels your worry. She chirps a Song of one, fluttering and bird-like. “He’s…better, I think. He spends less and less time here.” She stops when you reach the front porch of the manor. Her wings are drooping, the larger ones folded around her like a shawl. “But he’s still…well. It’s rather shocking inside.”

You march up the steps before you can lose your nerve. There’s another scream—fearful, but also furious. You thought it was just mindless shrieking before but now you can make out words, “wretched” and “ungrateful” and “horrible, abominable thing.” The door is cracked open. The foyer is a mess of broken glass and overturned furniture, old blood stains crusted into the carpet and stuck to the wallpaper. A silver platter has been flung against the wall, shattering a plate and splattering mashed potatoes and a chunk of cooked meat.

There is a man standing in the middle of the foyer, chest heaving and red in the face, screaming at something in the corner. You recognize Mr. Dewitt. He looks more sickly than you recall, sweat shining on his gaunt face. You’ve caught him in the middle of a tirade not unlike the ones you remember from childhood. He was always short-tempered, liable to fly into a rage at the slightest inconvenience. “I want to see my son! You can’t keep him from me! Just you wait, just you wait until they hear about this down at the factory!”

He whirls around at the sound of your footsteps and his wide, bloodshot eyes brighten. “Oh! Oh, it’s you!” he calls, grinning deliriously. His eyes are hazy and he’s not quite looking at you. He wobbles forward, looking inebriated. “You’ve come at the perfect time! I need to get a message down to the factory. Good practice for a courier, hm? Some incompetent let one of the weavers cocoon itself and now we’re stuck with this.” He gestures to the corner, the thing looming there silently. “It’s making demands. Can you tell them to send someone?”

You hesitate just a second too long and he’s screaming again, berating you, calling you a stupid, useless road-mongrel. The thing in the corner lunges forward then, faster than you can see it move. There’s a rush of air and a flash of movement. It lands heavily on top of the man, slamming his head into the floor. It’s your friend, the boy who grew up in this awful place with you. Older now, much bigger, casting a wide shadow with his wings outstretched. You see him tangle his claws in the man’s thinning hair, yanking his head higher. You see him lean in, proboscis unfurling.

“Hello,” he sings. Four eyes peer at you beneath stark white fringe. In adulthood, the silver ones have also turned deep, inky black. “Hello again. I was just thinking of you.”

His proboscis plunges forward like a needle and there’s a sickening crunch and a spurt of blood as it pierces Dewitt’s ear. He shakes and flails uncontrollably, mouth stretched open in a horrified, silent scream, but your friend holds him still; one hand on his head, one on his shoulder, the others easily keeping him pinned beneath the weight of his enormous body. Your friend, the Singer of Compass Hill, vibrates with a welcoming melody, his wings flapping in contentment. His proboscis goes taut and there’s a sick, slurping sound, another gush of blood dribbling down Dewitt’s face and neck.

“Why…is he…?” You swallow your revulsion. The Singer tilts his head slightly, the change in angle churning and squishing wetly against something in Dewitt’s head. The vibration of the song drones just louder than the gurgling screams Dewitt makes.

“He’s drugged. Not certain where or when he is. It’s the same thing he used to give me and all the others.” The Singer’s primary eyes are focused on feeding, but the smaller secondary ones rotate, fixed on you. “You don’t feel bad for him, do you?”

“I’m worried about you.”

The Singer drops Dewitt, proboscis yanking loose with a wet, ripping sound and slithering back into his mouth. He came out of his cocoon differently than all the others. No one else has emerged quite so large. His frilled antenna scrape the high ceiling, his legs bend strangely, and he has six long arms. A ring of thick, white fur circles his neck and drapes over his shoulders. There’s similar patches of fuzz all the way down his body, thinning out across his belly and limbs. His fingers are long and dexterous, warm when they reach out and graze your cheek.

His eyes have changed the least. There are mandibles on either side of his jaw, pearl-white and flexible, a proboscis curled up inside his mouth, but you’ll always recognize his eyes, no matter the color.

“Is he dead?” you say quietly, staring at the body lying limp and face-down on the carpet.

“No. I won’t let him die yet.” The Singer takes your hand in three of his. He turns it over, letting out a low hum in concern at the sight of bandages, the missing finger. “I’ll keep him here, just like I was kept. Except he has the luxury of a house when all I had was that cramped cell in the mountage wing of the factory, a bedroom shaped like a coffin. I’ll use him as he used me, without remorse. He can die when I have nothing to gain from him anymore.”

You tug on his arm, pulling him down to kneel in front of you, and embrace him. The Singer rests his chin and mandibles on your shoulders. His hands all knead the front of your shirt, just like when he was a boy. “I came here to complete a delivery,” you admit. “It’s a child. This is her home.”

The Singer hums appreciatively, nuzzling against your neck. “Yes. Good. I heard the Song. She’ll be safe here. She’ll decide what to do with her own silk. No one will keep her from cocooning and growing up.” His proboscis darts out, tasting the sweat on your throat. “Hope…savory. She grazed on this. You fed her well. There’s more hope here, as much as she could ever want.”

You rub his mandibles and he purrs. “You can have some, if you want. Hope, and whatever else I have.” You feel the vibration of the Song gone slow and deep with interest. He flicks one of his mandibles against your lips, tempted. “You have to eat something other than grudges,” you say gently.

“I can’t stomach much else. But…” He crouches further, pulling you into his lap. You’re settled on one of his thighs, half-turned away from him. He brushes your hair out of the way and caresses the shell of your ear, stroking the lobe with his thumb. “I’ll go very slow. Very gentle. It’s been a long time.”

Now that you’re actually here, clutching the fur on his upper chest, your stomach is flipping nervously. He’s right, it has been a long time. You haven’t fed him since you were both younger, shortly after the change came—he, young and clumsy and still figuring out his new, enormous body, and you, just old enough to drive the Drift. One more time, you’d agreed, before you left town. He couldn’t make silk anymore but it didn’t matter. He just needed to remember how you tasted.

“Hold onto me,” he sings gently. “It’s alright. Hold on tight. You won’t hurt me.” You don’t want to pull on his fur but he pushes your hands more firmly against his chest, encouraging you to dig your fingers in. He clutches your shoulders, your waist, your hips—his grip firm but not bruising. He tries to relax you. He nuzzles against you, splays his mandibles and leaves little kisses along your chin and cheek. His proboscis darts out and flicks against your lips, teasing. He trails higher, following the curve of your jaw.

Your breath hitches when he reaches your ear. He kisses it. His proboscis traces the shell, explores its shallow dips and grooves. Slowly, he lick his way closer to the hole and you let out an involuntary shiver. His hands squeeze all at once in reassurance and hold you still.

“Will you give me something sweet? Something light and airy?” One of the hands on your hip moves inward. Long, graceful fingers slip into your pants and settle on your heated sex. He traces one fingertip slowly up and down, faint and featherlight. Your hips chase the friction. That’s the moment he’s waiting for. You feel his proboscis, cold and smooth, slip easily into your ear canal.

True to his word, he’s slow and gentle. The penetration is a gradual slide, navigating impossibly small spaces to lap at something not entirely physical, nestled at the intersection of thought, feeling and memory. You feel it like the wet slide of a tongue against some place sensitive and you stiffen, eyes rolling back in your head. It’s too much—too much something. Not quite pain or pleasure, not quite anything you can name. But it’s too much. Explosive heat and sandpaper on your nerves, an avalanche of overstimulation.

The hand between your legs barely moves. It’s just two fingers, slender and nimble, rubbing so, so slowly. Up and down. Up and down. Your underwear is damp with your own want and he collects it on his fingertips, uses it to lubricate his steady rhythm. He strokes you right to the edge of madness, crooning softly. You feel the Song behind your eyes, in your brain. You feel all the love it carries.

Your hips jolt and your flinch violently in his grasp. You gasp, or maybe you scream. Your throat is raw when you drift back down into awareness, feeling his proboscis snaking back out and exit with a faint, wet pop. Soothing liquid dribbles out of your ear in his wake, something to numb soreness. You sag against him and catch your breath. He trills, smoothing his palms up and down your body. The hand between your legs comes out of your clothes glistening and sticky.

“What was it?” you asked. Your words are slurred, your tongue still clumsy. “Wh—what’d you taste?”

He wipes the excess fluid from your chin, pressing one last kiss to your ear. It’s starting to tingle. “Nostalgia. Exhaustion. Hope. And…” He pauses, turning your face towards him. “You’ve been having nightmares.”

He lets you avoid the subject and bury your face in his fur. He Sings, swaying gently. You shut your eyes and left your mind drift. Tomorrow, you’ll be leaving. Maybe you can deliver silk, just like the old days—but this silk will be better than Dewitt’s ever was. Made by children who are happy, woven by adults who care about them. Tomorrow, you and the girl will have to say your goodbyes, and you know she’ll ask you about home because she’s kind. And you will smile and lie or maybe say nothing at all, happy for her but stinging with agonizing envy.

“You could stay,” goes the Song, every time you hear it. “Make this home.”

You don’t answer. You never do. The Singer holds you while he still has the chance.

(next)

#rotpeach writes #goretober #the drift #ive had a couple anons mention theyre reading or rereading ritsukas pictures lately #im so glad youre enjoying it!! ;v; that story has a special place in my heart

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chilopodacrudus · 2 years

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Quick sketch of a monster named Edison I met in a dream last night. He's a soul parasite that takes residence inside people's minds before materializing and sucking their souls out through their mouths lol...

In the dream I had; Edison took residence inside my mind after someone killed one of my family members. He was there to help me get revenge in exchange for my soul later on. If he enjoys the company of someone; he'll keep the person conscious inside of his own realm and take care of them. Which sounds fine right now tbh lmao.

#monster man #terato #monster boyfriend #mild body horror #monster #humanoid monster #headshot #dream #dream monster #dream character #dreams #personal scribbles #fangs #eyes #long hair

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mothrianna · 3 months

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Of the Forest

[fem!oc x male!faun]

(This is meant to kick off a series of terato based writings that feature my redguard oc, Nemona, coming across several of the creatures and entities that can be found throughout the expanse of Elder Scroll's Tamriel.)

Summary:

She'd always wanted to visit the rolling meadows and lush forests of High Isle even as a young girl. Now as a woman, she finally gets the chance to see it, and the entire world and all of its natural splendor as she furthers her mother's research. But nothing that her parents taught her prepared her for the things she would find out in Tamriel's wilderness. (In which a faun manages to come across a lone human woman in his native forest and allows his curiosity to get the best of him.)

(somno, oral, terato, unprotected, smut)

Against her better sense, she elected to ignore intuition.

She'd known the feeling for what it was, a suspicious inclination that she was being watched. Her sense told her that she'd been alone. That hardly anyone walks so far out into the forest save for the lone hunter, and even then most of the locals that called this rural swathe of the country home avoided the untamed wilds. They felt that it was best left to the spirits and animals that held dominion over it. She'd been an oddity. A strange tourist hoping to poke her nose into places not suited for any human, let alone her. In the eyes of those few who had enough inclination to ask her about her journey watched her with knowing, yet sympathetic eyes.

Like they'd known what the forest had in store for her.

She'd felt the eyes before she could give words to the feeling itself. Felt some extra sense responding to every shift in the nearby underbrush. Or a silence that seemed to stretch on for too long, as if even the birds held their breath. She wrote it off as simple nerves at first. She was far from home for the first time in her life, hoping to further her mother's research into magical ecological survey. She had a single minded goal and she couldn't let paranoia so easily chase her away from it. Not when she'd come so far.

She'd always been one to listen to gut instinct, stubborn in all endeavors unless her intuition guided her otherwise. This marked the first time she didn't listen, opting to follow her mind rather than the nameless feeling within her that yelled for her to pay attention and go. She threw herself into her work instead, running her series of tests on her sought after nirnroot that has acted as a magical conduit and sponge throughout the duration of its life. She hoped to discern what sort of specific magical properties it's native ecosystem might have imbued it with. Progress went soundly enough, and time flew by since finding the elusive plant. Before she knew it, evening fell.

She enjoyed the mild air of the bridging gap between summer and autumn, cool and comfortable the moment the sun dipped below the horizon. Of course, she'd find herself drifting off as she waits for the alchemical test results, her body tired from the long day of hiking along streams and riverbeds in her search. She'd only laid her head down for a quick rest of the eyes, prone and curled about herself on the woven blanket she set out as a perfect work area just before her tent. The glade she took camp in had been serene and peaceful enough that sleep found her easily.

She'd been gifted with a sweet dream. Something warm and unusual for her, granted that she'd always been one for long, dreamless bouts of sleep. She'd always been a heavy sleeper, something her mother worried over her for when she decided to set out on her own. She feared for her only girl, who sought to travel countryside and wildernesses far removed from civilization where any manner of strange beast could happen upon her in the night. But Nemona worried little over it, opting to never let fear bar her from freedom.

But this time, she dreamt.

A strange dream, where butterfly touches kissed her bare arms and left goosebumps in their wake. Where the hot puff of breath painted her shoulders in warmth and tickled her neck. A slick hot organ of a tongue gingerly licked at the joining of her neck and collarbone, and she didn't find it a disgusting feeling in the slightest. Surprisingly, it was pleasant enough that it left her insides curling in on themselves like a flower refusing to bloom. Is that what it was like to be licked? To be kissed?

Hungry tastes of her flesh. She often wore low, breathable cuts in her dresses because she moved about too much for anything more restrictive. It left her bosom more exposed, her chest and collar bare to the elements and open to the hot and hungry laves against her flesh. Something in between her hips responds in force to it, her chest nearly following the sensation with each pass.

But the mouth traveled lower, ghosting over her clothed breasts. Pressure followed, as if a gentle kiss was being planted just over the space of her nipple. The hands find their way there next, deft fingers lightly brushing over the stiff fabric that separated her from the world. She wore little in the way of wrappings, the garment stiff enough to hold her shape and keep the finer details from the outside world. But here, she wished it was thinner. Wished she could feel just more under those fingers.

The fingers travel elsewhere, up and down the length of her arms as of the feel of her bare skin is a novelty on its own. Over her hips and thighs. Under the hem of her dress, struggling to find purchase under her layering. But they manage, finding her bare thighs and marveling at the heat between them.

With her dress pulled back, the night air swaddled her in its coolness, but there was still warmth between her thighs, the heat of a breath at the space between her hips as she felt the certainty of a nose pressed to closely to her flesh that she was certain she was being scented. She almost has the wherewithal to feel shame, but the needling want rooted just behind her hips distracted her from it. She was pushing into the touch instead, hips searching for just more pressure. Relief.

And she got it, if only incrementally. The tongue lapped at her clothed sex, hot and wet even through the thin cotton of her undergarments and teasing at her flesh. Once. Twice. Searching for her taste with a persistence that brings them back each time with renewed gusto that eventually prompted for the death of restraint. The thin strip of her underclothes are peeled to the side and she was gifted with such a firm, heated lick that it left her squirming.

Again and again, licking deeply between the lips of her flower as if she'd been coated in nectar. Wanting and hot. Fiercely enough that it pulled a whine from her. Only then did the tempo falter, as if her voice startled her lover. But she needed more. She'd never had something so sweet before, untouched as she was.

She reached down, her hips searching for him again. Her fingers found their home upon his mop of hair, threading through…

A furry texture. Short hair, but soft. Her hands go further and find something hard sprouting just from atop the head, like bone. Like horns. Splitting and curling like fine branchwork.

Like antlers on a stag.

Her eyes opened, some sinking feeling finally snatching her from her sleep addled daze and prompting her to look. Look she did, craning her neck to find the very real mass just between her legs, frozen like a statue. Like ice, watching her with the same sort of startled stupor as she did him.

Him. He. A person, but not.

No, this was neither man nor mer between her legs. Nothing she'd known or even heard of from her parents. Never in their tales of travel across the whole of Tamriel had they ever mentioned a race of man crossed with deer.

From his head stood a proud, branching set of antlers, beautiful and horrible at once with the way they end in delicate points she knew could gore with enough force behind them. His ears stood still, long and cervine in nature. He was dark furred, but the color she could not see through the dim, moonlit darkness. But she saw a little of his eyes, wide and dare she'd say- spooked by her sudden wakefulness. As if he'd never intended to wake her. As if he'd been trying for gentleness as he enjoyed her body in her sleep.

She was without reaction for long, arcing moments. If he wished to meet her with aggression, she'd be hopeless either way with the way she seemed to lock up like startled prey. She finally kicked herself, pushing herself up abruptly onto her hands and he reacted as if burned, moving away from her and leaving a yawning, cold and gaping berth between them.

He was horrible yet beautiful at once. Unnatural to her eyes, but of nature. His long, cervid face held a grace to it despite being trapped between man and stag. And she couldn't say he bore the gaze of a beast, with the way his eyes seemed to swim with fear. He knelt crouched just away from her, body tensed like a coil as if he prepared to bolt. His body bore the physique of a slender and lean male, almost mer-like in height and grace. His musculature bore an elegance, finely woven and tempered. Strong, hooved legs and long, slim arms. Clawed hands and a slender middle.

#writing #smut #the elder scrolls #tes #faun #terato #monster x female #monster fucker #tw monsterfucking #somno

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5eraphim · 6 months

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MASTER LIST ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🫧

(LAST UPDATED 10/30/2023)

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₊˚⊹ One shots ( ♡₊˚ = personal favorites)

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Content warnings: yandere, gunplay (obvi), blowjob, bloodplay (?), humiliation, noncon

⋆Nocturnal Intrusion (Dark Junkrat)

noncon, degradation, humiliation, rough play, break-in

⋆A Wrench to Grind (Dark Engineer) ♡₊˚

Noncon, mating press, misogyny (AFAB Reader), slapping, choking, rough, bad ending, Engie straight up uses reader's mouth as an ashtray...

⋆Call Me Little Faulein (Yandere Medic)

Praise kink, voice kink, sensory deprivation, abuse of power, oral (female receiving), misuse of medical equipment

⋆Laid to Rest (Yandere Spy) ♡₊˚

hurt/comfort, yandere, forced intimacy, depression, unhealthy relationship dynamics, angst

⋆Big Slugger Pt. II (Yandere Scout)

dubcon, alcohol, yandere, forced relationship gunplay, humiliation

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noncon, three way, Dark!Characterization, humiliation, AFAB reader, oral (male receiving), choking, knives, blood, punishment, double penetration, spit, groping, jarate used for SPITE, bad ending

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hurt/comfort, forced intimacy, dubcon, yandere, canon divergence, thigh ridding, unhealthy relationship, handjob

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⋆Safe and Sound (Yandere Spy)

yandere, mind break, Stockholm Syndrome, servant/master dynamics, denial/edging, sexual massage, possessive behavior

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afab reader, dubcon, forced intimacy, oral (female receiving, scout is kinda weird about feet for a moment i guess?, biting, kidnapping, yandere, toxic relationship

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⋆French Invasion Tactics (Yandere Spy) ♡₊˚

dubcon/coercion, Touch starved reader, yandere, hand kink, manipulation, possessive behavior, outdoor sex (graveyard sex), fingering, heresy/blasphemy, slightly rough, toxic relationship, AFAB reader, bad ending/angst

⋆Birthday Cake (Yandere Engineer) ♡₊˚

MAJOR daddy kink, dub-con, spanking, aphrodisiacs, yandere, toxic relationship, forced intimacy, fingering, possessiveness

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yandere, possessive behavior, mind break, hurt/comfort, toxic relationship, implied NSFW, kidnapping, touch starved reader, cuddles, reader is gender neutral, implied dehumanization/slight infantilization

⋆Heaven Waits (Yandere Medic) ♡₊˚

Slight spoilers for Emesis Blue, Sad Medic, asphyxiation, sexual massage/hand bathing, gender neutral reader, yandere, oral (male receiving), angst/bad ending, religious themes, death

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dubcon, breeding kink, yandere, tetro (mild), full moon horniness, mating press, AFAB reader, exophilia, fingering, dirty talk, abandonment issues/daddy issues scout, scout drinks reader's sweat? if that's anything?

⋆Hunting Party (Dark Demo and Dark Soldier)

Noncon, death threats, stalking, blades, guns/getting shot, Dark! Characterization, outdoor sex, double penetration, rough, AFAB reader/female terms used, fearplay, primal play, blood, depersonalization, boot licking, bukkake, threeway

⋆The Bunny under the Bridge (Yandere Scout)

Dark! Characterization (nothing too heavy, but still, definitely there), dubcon, light humiliation, coercion, hazing, AFAB reader, bargaining, reader is naïve, oral (male recieving)

⋆Unspoken Alliances *TEASER* (Yandere Spy)

⋆Back stabbers (Classic Heavy)

yandere, AFAB reader/female terms of affection used (good girl/my girl), abuse of power, dubcon, boss x employee dynamic, TOXIC RELATIONSIHP, possessiveness, rough, degradation, toxic masculinity/sexist cheavy big time, technically hurt/comfort but more accurately hurt/hurt the other person, arguing but it's basically foreplay

⋆The Chateau (Dark Vampire Engie and SpY) ♡₊˚

dubcon, Dark! characterization, corruption kink, sexual venom, three-way, hostage situation, coercion, blood drinking, degradation, implied bad ending, AFAB reader/female pronouns and terms used, reader is a masochist, Spy is a massive jerk and bullies Engie and reader

₊˚⊹ Headcanons

Yandere Medic Caretaker Headcanons

Yandere Scout NSFW Alphabet

⋆The Huntress, The Mastermind and The Oni x Altruistic survivor

Deathslinger, Wraith, Doctor x Altruistic survivor

⋆Yandere Spy NSFW Alphabet

Yandere Engineer NSFW Alphabet

Yandere Sniper NSFW Alphabet

Heavy Yandere Alphabet

⋆Medic Yandere Alphabet

Yandere Mercs Love Languages

Yandere Mercs most to least likely to babytrap their s/o

Medic, Spy and Sniper with a captive developing Stockholm Syndrome

The Clown, Shape, Mastermind and Artist with Somnophilia

Yandere Engineer and Medic with a captive who managed to escape

Yandere Scout CNC headcanons

Scout, Demo, Engineer and Soldier getting NSFW call spammed by their s/o

Vampire Heavy, Demo, Medic, Engineer vampire AU headcanons

Scout, Sniper, Spy Vampire AU Headcanons

Yandere Medic NSFW Alphabet

Yandere Heavy being lead on by Reader

Yandere monster mash demo, scout and spy meeting their s/o

yandere mercs with an oblivious love interest

Yandere Medic, Spy and Sniper with a masochist s/o who likes danger

₊˚⊹ Miscellaneous/Drabbles

GREAT WALL OF HUSBANDOS TEIR LIST 2.0 (INTERACTIVE)

GREAT WALL OF WAIFUS TIER LIST 2.0 (INTERACTIVE)

DBH Characters Ranked Best to Worst Huggers

Engie Thirst Post

A Wrench to Grind Mini Drabble

On Writing Medic and Engie

On the "let's make a deal/dark gamble" trope

Yandere Spy Drabble

cnc horny ramble

TF2 Monster Mash AU

Tucking you into bed

Fluffy Sniper Drabble

My Little Sparkle Jump rope queen

Live Blogging Emesis Blue

Ranking the mercs hottest to least

Traveling Priest Engie Drabble (A character which I BLATANTLY stole from my writer's envy and heart's beloved @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered)

Emesis Blue drabble

Administrator Drabble (CURSED)

Birthday Cake Drabble (the fic)

Happy Father's Day Everyone

Fandom PSA

TF2 if they were on survivor

TF2 Star Sign Headcanons

still genuinely curious about this one

emesis blue speculation w/@fatgumsurpremacy-remastered !!!!!!!!

(poll) which of the mercs mothers is most likely to have kept their baby clothes

i need to protect him......

Why some characters are tagged Dark vs Yandere

(poll) if you were a blu captive who from the red team do you wish is gonna torture and hold you as prisoner

Mercs least to most fun to go shoplifting with

(poll) Who is most turned on listening to you whimpering

mercs i wanna smash watching the sunday morning cartoons

CaraTour Assignment

jumpscare

who is the hottest when they're mad (poll)

merc's body appreciation post

Spy thirst

Engie thirst

Classic Heavy Drabble

hits the mercs with a big scary gun that turns them british

TF2 Character food pref.s post

top kinks and a case for the underated kink of "marriage play/playing wedding night"

yandere red spy hiving complicated feelings for the blue scout reader

143 notes · View notes