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#ghost the monster fucker
con-dientes · 2 months
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Imagine getting fucked by a ghost or an invisible force in front of a mirror. There’s nothing you can do but feel and see your gaping pussy. The best part is that you never know when they’re going to fuck you again since you can’t see them <3
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monstersflashlight · 27 days
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Ghost boyfriend who pushes his fingers inside your pussy as you watch TV with your friends. You try to hide it and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. He pushes his dick inside of your dripping pussy as soon as you close the door, making you bite down on your panties, licking your own juices. He comes inside of you and puts your panties back on, completely ruined. You have to spend the rest of the night with filthy panties and his cum slowly dripping out. Face red, pussy wet.
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werecreature-addicted · 5 months
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hey babe your tone seemed off in your latest ominous message scrawled in blood on the wall are you mad at me?
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nobelisha · 10 months
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wish a ghost was violating me in public and there was nothing I could do about it.
when I’m in the fitting room, disembodied hands pass through my panties, fingering my cunt and playing with my clit until i soak the material, forcing me to buy it.
at work, hands groping my tits, massaging and pinching my nipples, forcing me to hold back tears and moans.
on my way home, shoved into an alley, pants pulled down and spanked without mercy until i’m crying.
in a public restroom, taking my panties away, ripping them to shreds or carrying them far far away, so i’m forced to walk around with the knowledge that my cunt is bare
never letting me cum unless i’m in public. only giving me enough time to hide behind a bush before it’s pounding my cunt until im in tears, shoving disembodied fingers in my mouth, spanking my ass with every thrust.
just..violate when i can’t do anything about it
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monstersighing · 2 months
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Can I request a ghost x curvy fem reader that performs some stealth exhibitionism on her in public?
Here you go, I hope this works for you anon -
NSFW 18+, MDNI
Ghost x Curvy Fem Reader
CW: dub con, stealth exhibitionism, semi public sex, dirty talk.
Title: Tourist Trap
You’re talking to some other tourists in the drawing room of the stately home when you feel it. Hands settling on your hips and then gliding down over the rounded curve of your stomach. Nothing is visible when you look down. The man and his wife in front of you prattle on, unaware.
“They say his appetite for sex was monstrous!” The woman titters, " There were rumours that the galas he held were nothing more than orgies in disguise.”
You nod distractedly: the hands are now squeezing at your thighs approvingly and inching them apart.
It does my confidence wonders to be remembered, a voice whispers in your ear with a chuckle.
Then there’s pressure against your clit over your underwear and you feel it being stroked. Your cunt becomes hot at the attention and when you widen your stance a little to give better access, the pressure moves down and in, breaching your pussy lips and sliding across the wetness it finds there. You feel your cheeks begin to flush.
The couple point out the picture of the previous owner of the manor. You smile and agree he looks devilish, with his high arched nose and deep eyes. All whilst that man’s ghost is teasing his fingers across your folds and sending small shocks of desire through your body.
Take a good look at the spirit that going to fuck you, the ghost says and you feel him slide into your cunt.
You bite your lip, sure the couple must be able to tell something is going on. You wait for them to call you out with disgust in their voices. You're sure they must be able to hear the slick sounds of the ghost’s fingers crooking and scissoring in your tight hole, your underwear pulled aside.
Finally the couple, bored by your short responses, leave. You listen to their footsteps fade as they walk down the hall and huff out a breath you’ve been holding.
The pressure withdraws then and you wonder if it's all over, but the touch transfers to your soft breasts and doubles, so both of your nipples are plucked and rolled between ghostly fingers.
Bend over the table. Now, the ghost commands in his velvety voice.
You obey.
The skirt of your dress is yanked up, your head pushed down and hair gripped. When you remove your underwear and tilt up your ass, you hear a deep throaty laugh, from behind you. Desperate for me already? the ghost says.
The way you spread your legs seems to serve as an answer. Your ass is squeezed and you feel the fat blunt head of something press against you and stop after parting your cunt lips. You buck your hips back and feel the intrusion against your hole slide home. A groan spills from your mouth at the sudden feeling of fullness, the ghost’s cock snug and seated deep. Encouraged by your reaction, the ghost begins to thrust in and out of you with deep punishing shoves that make the table rattle rhythmically.
You grip the edge of the table and cant your hips up. The change in angle makes the ghost’s cock hit a spot that make your legs shake and as it is hit again and again, your pants become whines.
A hand graps behind your knee, pushing it up to the table and exposing your cunt further. You think about how many tourists must be wandering around the stately home. Anyone could come in and see you, splayed over a table, your pussy stretched wide by an invisible cock, gaping and swollen.
Like a desperate little whore, the voice says.
“Yes,” you say, “yes.”
I should hold you down after. On display and ready for anyone to fuck into after I’m finished with you.
It’s that image that makes you come: cunt clenching around the ghost’s cock and your muscles tensing as a wave of pleasure washes over you.
The ghost fucks you through and beyond your orgasm: pumping into you fast and ragged now. Your head is tugged back and your hands scrabble to hold you up on the table. Your spine arches. There’s a final slam and grind and then coolness spills inside you.
You drop back to the table then, your body limp as an abandoned doll. A hand strokes across your hair.
You'll get up in a minute.
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bluegiragi · 6 months
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cockatrice (part 1)
early access + nsfw on patreon
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deunmiu-dessie · 2 months
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monster!boyfriend who acts tough but is actually shy and gets flustered around you easily. monster!boyfriend who's scared you'll leave him for someone else, someone human. monster!boyfriend who's clingy and whiny, showering you with affection, nuzzling your neck with sweet kisses. monster!boyfriend who's afraid of accidentally hurting his little human so he handles you like glass. monster!boyfriend who would give you the world if you asked. ˙◠˙
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monster!boyfriend who's afraid of hurting you with his thick cock. monster!boyfriend who takes his time, slowly sliding into you inch by inch. monster!boyfriend who becomes completely entranced by the sensation of you clenching around him. monster!boyfriend who uses you like his personal sexy toy. monster!boyfriend who pumps you full of his thick cum for the third time that night. ˙ᵕ˙
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
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squishysoftmonsters · 9 months
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Mature +18 Sexual Themes Minors/Ageless DNI
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💚Imagine moving to a mansion from the 1900s that was abandonned because it was haunted. You decided to fix it,leaving certain ritual things as they were. You slept the night nude as usual,waking up the next morning feeling sexually pilaged as if a gang of horny spirits went to town on you while asleep!
Before bed,you set up a camera to see spirits and it was a group of bad demon minotaur boys and what seemed to be their mammoth sized father. They'd grunt and laugh as they had fun with you,sleeping peacefully not feeling them.
But they made themselves known as days passed. You'd be fondled while cooking..fingered to the point that you had to stifle pants working in the garden. You got tongued and throated in the shower while trying to wash your feet and lastly gagged and blindfolded by the naughty spirits as they took turns with your helpless body in the laundry room!
The father seemed to like you a lot,as he'd show up the most. After months,you got the home functional and beautiful and grew used to spectral sex throughout the day as many more spirits came to you!
After a long day at work,you'd strip down when you came home,letting the spirits have their way. If you felt a lump rub,finger inside you,cool tongue kiss or lick to your bits You'd stop everything to satiate their needs,spreading for them,to feel their cool penises go into your holes rough and warm up after a few moments. Puddles of your juices was fine..they loved how you tasted and craved more each time.
You were never deprived,or ever needed a boyfriend. It was just you and your spirits💚
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clock-warmer · 6 months
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First draft for an idea about a skeptic having a ghost encounter 🩷
Reader X ghost/s
You are a skeptic, exploring a supposedly "haunted" location with your partner who is a believer. Having felt cold touches and hearing strange noises all night they are afraid and leave you alone in the building. What happens inside turns you from a skeptic into a form believer of the paranormal. 💓
Warning: This work contains,
breeding kink, reluctant/noncensent, threesome, blowjobs, degradation, creampie, facial, paranormal activity
Sexual content below the break 💓
There wasn't much you were afraid of going into buildings like these, you were a skeptic afterall. The same couldn't be said for your partner. Any slight thump or gust of wind had them jumping into your arms like an episode of Scooby doo. It was much the same when exploring the now abandoned Krolik Academy. Stairs creaked as the two of you applied weight, carefully stepping fearful about the floor falling out from under you.
"Fuck I want to go back please" your partner begged, this usually marked the end of your exploration but today you felt the unexplored corridors calling to you, feelings of cold chills running up and down your body, favouring travelling up your inner thighs.
"In a bit," you said, "we've barely seen anything" you move the flashlight around continuing further into the building despite your partner's fear. The fear wasn't unusual for them though, it was never a real concern when they started getting jumpy.
"Please I keep feeling like I'm being grabbed" they begged, you feel a grabbing on your wrist and turn around to see them further than a reaching distance away.
"Your just imagining it" you groaned, "like always. If your that scared you can go wait in the car" they just scoffed turning on their heel and making their way down the stairs.
Your eyes need to readjust now that there is less light, as soon as you hear the heavy wooden doors slam shut you feel more of the cold feeling traveling all over you. As if it's going through your clothes, you feel the cold sensation drawing lazy circles around your nipples. They harden under your bra. You cross your arms over your chest feeling violated by the wind, because that's the only explanation right? It's just the wind?
Your thoughts feel as if they aren't your own, flooding your head.
Such a prude.
Not like covering up will stop us much.
Acting all nervous as if she's not a slut absolutely desperate for it.
"What the fuck?" You exclaim out loud shocked by the things popping into your head. It had been a little while since you had gotten some action but you never knew yourself to be quite so down bad. Though with your partner waiting in the car, you didn't bother stopping the filthy thoughts now fuelling your actions.
Go lay on the table.
You feel compelled to obey your thoughts, a constant pressure against your clothed pussy and a soothing coolness massaging your breasts. The table you found was covered by a thick blanket of Gray dust that clung to your finger when you curiously dragged your finger across the surface.
Without warning you felt yourself be shoved down, hands catching yourself from falling face first into the dusty table, "wha-?"
Such a good little idiot doing what I say
You feel your shirt being unzipped and your bra being removed, your left dumbfounded and cold. Your shaking. What the fuck is happening to you. A firm grip finds your left breast and you feel a coolness meet your back as your pushed up slightly. Your flashlight laid on the table illuminating the empty dining room just enough for you to connect the sound of something dragging along the hardwood floors to the chair moving inexplicably closer to you.
Open your mouth
You don't, borderline terrified. You couldn't blame all this on just the wind. You feel a cold, hard something smack your cheek... playfully?
I said to open your mouth darling~
You shook your head rapidly tears welling up in your eyes as an invisible hand grabs you by the chin, another smack against your cheek. This time the other side. The same thing that smacked against your cheek drags across to your lips rubbing along them. The hand on your chin moves up to your hand almost instantly tangling itself in it, tugging slightly.
We know you want to now open wide
Your pants get pulled down alongside your panties, you can't see well in the light but there's a slightly darker patch from the slick leaking out of your cunt from being manhandled by the invisible assailants.
When something rubs up from your cunt, through your folds and up to your clit the cold feeling leaves you gasping which is when they take advantage of your mouth hanging open. The cock like object slides into your mouth reminding you of a popsicle as it sat still on your tongue.
There's a good girl, suprised you weren't begging to warm up my cock. Your as wet as a slut I wonder why your not acting like one.
Cold grabbing of your ass cheeks nearly manage to distract you from the cock in your mouth. Seperating your cheeks slightly before massaging them again and then repeating, slowly feeling something equally as big enter your cunt, feeling yourself stretch around it.
Such a good girl, taking us so well.
"Mmphh" you moan around the phantom cock in your mouth, sending vibrations up to the recipient warning a couple pulses in your mouth.
The pace of the cock fucking you from behind quickens, forcing you forward. your elbows holding your upper body up off of the dusty table. The harder and faster your fucked the deeper and faster the cock fucks your face, leaking a freezing cold liquid down your throat.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
The thought was simple and bouncing around your head, you couldn't even tell if it belonged to you or the entities balls deep in you.
Without warning your mouth is left empty and you feel as a liquid the temperature of ice water but the texture of glue coats your face. Your panting some of the liquid having pooled in your mouth is dripping out onto the table.
Sorry it's been so long~
Don't fucking apologize look at the mess this slut just made all over our house. Should have been grateful and swallowed every last drop.
There is a grip placed on your hips, cold and firm feeling like it may leave bruises as it slams into your dripping cunt with enough force to send you forward. Pleasure so strong your arms give out and your chest is pressed against the dusty table, sticky cheek collecting dust on the residue. "unghhh" you couldn't withhold your moans too well with your hole being ravaged like that. Thighs shaking as the pressure built up in your core.
You couldn't contain yourself any longer, squirting down your legs as the phantom fucks up against your cervix. The pulsing of your orgasm milking the freezing cum out of the cock.
Instantly the cold hands and cocks can no longer be felt, leaving you empty and longing. You stand on shaking legs tears slowly trickling down your cheeks from the overstimulation, grabbing the abandoned flashlight you rush down to your partner still patiently waiting for you in the car, the lights on as they say in the driver's seat.
"Are you okay??" They asked a worried expression as they scanned over your disheveled self "you look like you've seen a ghost"
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sigmahimejoshi · 9 months
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You've grown safe in your house even if there were silly warnings it was haunted, and with that, you now enjoy walking around naked in your home until you feel something grope you. You quickly turn around just to see nothing. You think you're going insane before you feel yourself getting forced down on the counter. You let out a whimper when you feel something slide into you not knowing what it is but only knowing that it feels so good and you have no choice but to submit to getting fuck by a invisible force
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monstersflashlight · 5 days
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Do ghosts count as ‘monsters’? Cause if they do imagine moving into a haunted house and suddenly waking up in the middle of the night feeling surprisingly full, looking down and not seeing anything. Or bending over the kitchen island while reading through some mail, skimpy shorts and a skimpy top on when you suddenly start getting pounded from behind… OR WANDERING HANDS WHILE YOURE IN THE SHOWER, ugh so many ideas…so many hot ideas 😞😞
Someone else asked: Hi! Would you make more ghost content, please? Like a horror fan moving into a haunted house, then getting randomly and repeatedly getting sexy surprises or something. Uh, if you're interested, that is. If not, don't worry about it. :)
Hi anons! Ghost def count as monsters. You can find another story about ghosts here and a short txt here. This one went way overboard with and I'm in fucking love with it, it's probably top 5 hottest things I've ever written. Hope you like it!
Spectro-cum
Ghosts x fem!human || free use, groping, dub-con
You didn’t think ghost existed until you found yourself living in a haunted house.
When you saw the price of rent you didn’t think twice about moving in. It was so cheap and the house was so big, and the pics looked phenomenal. You should have asked yourself why it was so cheap in the current housing market. You should have guessed it was wrong in some way. And it was.
Things started to become weird when things moved on their own. At first, they just moved some keys, opened some doors… No big deal, you weren’t going to move out of a great house just because there were a few ghosts living there. They didn’t pay rent, but you didn’t care about roommates. It was okay, just annoying, but okay. You found your stuff soon enough, the cabinets and doors could be closed. You were fine.
Then the touching started. You were bending down to grab something under the sofa when you felt something pinching your ass. You screamed, startled and a bit mad. You turned around, but nobody was there. Of course nobody was, they were fucking ghosts in your haunted house. Dang. What started as a pinch developed into caressing your ass, your legs, your neck… They let their ghostly hands caress your body every once in a while, making you shiver and frown. But it was still not enough to kick you out of a good house. You could deal with the ghosts, the housing market not so much.
But it didn’t end there. They started groping you. You woke up one day with what felt like hands holding you down, you trashed and tried to get free as ghostly laughs sounded around your room. You cursed them as they undressed you and played with your tits for what felt like hours. Probably was. They pinched and twisted and sucked on your nipples until they were puffy and oversensitive, until your pussy was so wet you could hear the slickness every time you rubbed your thighs together. And they didn’t even make you come, they just disappeared when they got tired. You had to touch yourself after. Fucking ghosts.
The groping started to be a bit annoying. You could be bending down and someone pulled your panties down and probed your asshole. You cursed them and they left with a laugh. Another time you were doing laundry and ghostly hands held you inside the washing machine like you were in a bad porno. They poured some detergent on your ass and fondled you until they got bored. At some point, they ripped your clothes off and started groping you in the middle of the hallway. You liked that shirt, damn it.
And then they went beyond all you were expecting. You were showering one morning and you felt the water turning cold, their latest discovery, making your nipples pebble under the spray. You cursed out loud when you heard the ghostly laugh and the water stopped. And then they stopped playing. Hands grabbed your arms and pinned them to the wall, more hands took your ankles and held them apart. Another hand started pinching and caressing your boobs, making you groan involuntarily, your pussy getting wet. You didn’t know how many of them there were, but the amount of hands you could feel in your body said at least four.
One of them took upon himself to spread your pussy lips, spreading your wetness all over your clit and frantically rubbing it. Your legs gave out under their assault, but they didn’t let you fall. They held you in the air as you felt a dick being shoved inside of you. You cried out as he hit your G-spot repeatedly, some fingers kept rubbing your pussy. And without a second to spare, the one fucking you came, you felt him twitching and shooting inside of you. You looked down and there was some kind of blue liquid leaking out of you, sticky and slimy. Gross. The next one took his place, same thing. A few dozen thrusts and they were coming inside of you. When they all finished and you were dripping, they took upon themselves to pinch every sensible place of your body until you came. They released you then, your pussy a mess of spectro-cum and your body spent after being tag-teamed by ghosts. Fucking ghosts.
From that point on, it was like a magical limit had been lifted. They used you wherever and whenever they feel like it. It was weird the moment of the day that you didn’t have some ghost cum dripping down your legs. You opted out of wearing panties a couple days ago, tired of having them ruined. You stopped wearing pants, too, what was the point if they’ll end up messy either way.
They had no limits, and they had no worries about you either. They didn’t care if you were awake or asleep, eating or busy with something. One second you were reading through your mail and you felt a cock filling you to the brim, pounding into you without any preamble. They didn’t even try to satisfy you anymore, they just used you as a cum-dump for their come, jerking themselves inside of your pussy and leaving soon after. You sighed and kept doing whatever you were doing at the moment, tired and sore, but so turned on that it was almost painful.
Usually they used you one at a time, giving you a while to get yourself together and do some stuff around the house before you felt another cock shoved inside. But sometimes they didn’t even wait a few minutes. Sometimes not even seconds. One cock was pulled out and another was pushed in, making impossible for you to get anything done the whole morning. It was maddening, and annoying… And made you so fucking hot you were horny all day long. You had to rub one off multiple times a day to relieve some of the pent up sexual frustration of being fucked and ignored all day. Fucking ghosts.
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skywarpie · 2 months
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Smash
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nobelisha · 11 months
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thinking abt ghost dick again
waking up to something filling me. It’s sizeable, but nothing I can’t deal with. Putting my hands to my cunt, trying to figure out whats going on and feeling, but not seeing something inside me. Slowly it starts to move until its pounding me into the bed, but when i reach down to rub my cunt, a hand cracks against my face and stops its movement inside of me. I wait for it to start up again, but it doesn’t so I get ready for work.
In the shower, the something inside me grows a little bigger, as hands begin groping my chest, leaving me moaning for more. I reach down to rub my cunt, but once again a hand cracks against my face and the hands leave my tits alone, leaving me with a slightly bigger dick inside me. I groan at the frustration but finish getting ready for work.
At work, I’m talking to a coworker when the something gets bigger again. I excuse myself to my cubicle just as a feel something sliding into my asshole. Both somethings began pumping in and out of me, leaving me to rock my hips against my chair. Reaching to rub my cunt, desperate to cum, but I’m slapped again and the pounding stops. Tears well in my eyes, but I keep rocking trying to get more stimulation, but something slides over my clit and I don’t feel anything anymore.
At home, I strip and the pounding begins right away. I fall to the floor face down, ass up, drooling as I’m pounded so good. I know now not to touch, so instead I beg. Beg for more, harder and faster and to please let me cum.
I’m nudged to the couch arm and my legs are spread over each side. The pounding resumes, harder than before. There’s something expanding inside of my ass and cunt and I began rutting against the couch arm. I move my hips back and forth, chasing my pleasure when hands grope around my tits pulling and squeezing and pinching. Moaning and begging, when I feel my release building up, the pounding speeds up and hands slap at my body. My ass, my cunt, my tits and face jiggle with the force of each slap. A hard slap to the face is what sends me over, and i cum long and hard
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greatstormcat · 5 months
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Of Wolf And Man - Part 2
Poly TF141 x f!reader
Series Masterlist
TW: MDNI 18+, monster fucking, oral f!receiving, masturbation, animal injury
AN: sorry it’s so big, this one is writing itself and I can’t stop it!
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Summer
Spring rolled on into summer, and the cottage became more and more your own. Hints of Annie still remained around the place, such as her old besom over the doorway and her herb books on the kitchen shelves. Most importantly, her blanket kept its spot on the back of the sofa, and you wrapped yourself in it every night since you moved in, as though she were there hugging you still.
You even found an old silver necklace you remember your mother giving her one birthday, but never saw her wear it. It was hanging on a nail beside the old dresser in the bedroom, and you couldn’t understand why she never wore it if she liked having it around. It wasn’t the oddest thing about the old girl, but it stood out now.
You also became fond of your wolves. You don’t know when you began thinking of them as your wolves, but you began to start listening for them. The days you didn’t so much as hear them left you feeling like a part of you was missing somehow. You paid attention to the little symbols in your almanack more than usual, taking note of when the full moon was, hoping the weather would be good enough to sit out on the bench outside and maybe see them again. When the full moon shone they were a lot louder, came closer to the cottage, and you’d see them play fighting. The larger two almost always won, of course. There were also times you spotted them laying on the hillock on the far side of the meadow, sunning themselves and watching the cottage. Watching you it almost seemed.
Your thoughts also dwell on your evening with Johnny, and how he had been so close to kissing you. He hadn’t turned up on your doorstep again after that, but neither had he made any show of avoiding you when you saw him in town. In fact, his excuses for finding a reason to touch you or brush against you in the supermarket became thinner and more obvious. What was surprising though was the way the other three reacted to his actions. If Johnny touched your hip walking past you, Kyle would bump against you on the other side and then touch your arm to apologise. When you’d needed logs loading into your car for your wood burner, Price and Simon insisted on helping and you found yourself wedged between them both for a split second more than once. You’d find yourself going home with the faintest scent of them on your clothes, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a comforting smell, one your bury your face into your jacket to breath in later on, when you were alone.
On one occasion you’d got into a heated conversation, not quite an argument, with a woman who accused you of damaging her car in the carpark, which you absolutely had not done. Out of nowhere the four men had appeared behind you asking what the problem was in a way that made it clear, there was no problem happening while they were around. The woman had quickly backed down and conceded the dent was there already. Whatever was going on with them, you did nothing to discourage them, even if it left you feeling a little ashamed of yourself.
It was a common thing to lie out on your bed, the windows of the cottage open to allow the cool breeze through while you moaned, stuffing your aching pussy with your fingers and imagining it was one of them, or more than one, or all of them. You never paid any mind to how loud you were when you came, and how the sound carried into the trees, or who was listening with keen ears.
As the weather warms you decide a longer walk up into the hills was well overdue, maybe you’d even find where Johnny and the others lived finally. You’d asked about them in town after your evening with Johnny and found that people respected the hell out of the group of men, despite them being almost total recluses. They visited town even less often than you did, but had lived in their hidden home for as long as anyone could remember. They were almost revered by the local people, as much as the wolves.
As you walk along the trail, lost in your thoughts, you stumble to a halt when one of your wolves comes into view around a rocky outcrop. The animal is huge, bigger than you’d have ever expected a wolf to be having only seen them on TV or online. Its eyes lock onto yours and its teeth bare in a snarl that turns your innards to water. You freeze, too scared to move and wait to see if it’s going to attack, heart pumping at a painful rate in your chest.
That’s when you spot the metal device clamped around one of its front legs, and a frown creases your forehead in disgust.
“You’re trapped,” you say with genuine concern, and realise you're relatively safe. The animal has a tawny brown coat, with a darker stripe of thicker, shaggy fur running between its ears. After a few minutes of staring at each other, you decide you cannot leave the animal trapped like this, and you begin to edge closer.
There’s a noise above you on the rocks, a rustle of twigs, and you look up into the face of a second, even larger wolf. This one’s fur is much darker apart from silvery markings around the eyes and muzzle. It's dark eyes watch you unblinkingly as you pause in your movements towards the trapped animal before you.
“Look, don’t kill me, okay? I’m trying to help,” you babble, aware they can’t understand you but it helps control your nerves to talk out loud. The second wolf hangs back, pacing slowly but appearing content to keep its distance for now. You get down low on your hands and knees to look as unthreatening as possible, edging closer to the trapped animal but ready to roll out of the way if it lunges for you. You pay no mind to the soil and mud getting onto you jeans and hands, too focused on the huge beast infront of you.
Thankfully it doesn’t move as you get closer, and you manage to grasp the jaws of the trap in your bare hands. You pull with all your strength, straining every muscle you have with the effort needed, the metal biting into your skin painfully, hands and arms trembling as you force open the steel trap, hoping the wolf isn’t going to maul you the second it's free. You keep your head down while you pull until the feel of the animal brushing past you lets you know it's out and you let go of the mechanism, a terrifying, metallic snapping sound echoing through the trees as it shuts.
The wolf doesn’t run away though, worst still, the other one lopes over to join its friend beside you. Carefully, gently you lower yourself onto your belly hoping to look as pathetic and not worth eating as possible, your face mushed against the dirt and leaf mould on the forest floor. You’re now lying on the ground with the two huge, wild wolves standing over you, and you screw your eyes shut as they sniff at your coat and boots, trying to hold your breath. A cold nose presses inside the collar of your coat, pressing against your neck and you whimper in terror as it snuffles against you, waiting for teeth to follow the questing nose. It seems a fitting end that you’d get mauled to death helping a wild animal
You risk looking back over your shoulder and see it's the smaller of the two wolves that is sniffing at your neck, the larger one has moved back and is sitting on its haunches, watching you carefully with its head tilted slightly to one side. The smaller wolf makes a soft noise, almost a whine, and you feel the tip of its tongue touch your neck making you shudder and shut your eyes again. Your lungs begin to burn as you try not to breath too loudly, fighting against the racing of your heart. A paw starts to scratch and pull at the back of your thin jacket, as though trying to get you to turn over. The larger one barks, and the hot, wet tongue pulls away from your neck, and you watch as they bound away into the trees together, the smaller one barely limping from the injury.
You count to a hundred before you decide it's safe enough to get up off the floor, and your legs shake like mad when you stand up, your head spinning slightly. It's hard to believe what just happened and you gather your things up off the floor where you’d dropped them, before heading back to the cottage as quickly as possible.
The weekly trip into town comes around, and you find yourself thinking constantly about the encounter with the two wolves. You had taken it upon yourself to look for any more of those horrible traps and set them off with a tree branch to avoid any more animals getting injured.
“Do people still hunt wolves around here? I thought that was banned years ago,” you ask the lady in the supermarket, and she wrinkles her nose in disgust.
“It is banned, but it’s always been frowned on around here anyway,” she explains. “It's said to be bad luck to hunt the wolves around here, bad stuff happens if you do. But it doesn’t stop everyone, people still come in and try to get the big ones you see in the forest.”
“I saw one caught in a trap the other day,” you tell her as you pick up your bags of shopping. “I actually helped it escape. Poor thing.”
“Well, you’re due some good luck then if the stories are true. Maybe it was a werewolf, there are plenty of stories about them from years gone by.” She grins at you as you carry your stuff outside and you laugh to yourself about the idea of werewolves roaming around the countryside. Like clockwork you see Johnny and the others as you head to your car, almost as though they were purposefully timing their own visits with yours now. You notice he has a bandage wrapped tightly around his wrist as they approach, and the eyes of Simon are watching you intently.
“What happened to you?” to ask with concern as the group approaches, something tickling in the back of your mind as you speak.
“Nothing serious,” Johnny says, waving the bandaged arm in front of him as if he had just noticed it. “Be right as rain in a day or two thanks to a friend helping me out.”
Without thinking you reach out and grasp the bandaged hand, turning it gently in your hands. You don’t notice that they all freeze as you do this, circled around you as you check the wrapping, until you look up into Johnny’s face and see his eyebrows raised and a silly little smile on his face. You let go of his hand with a softly mumbled apology, heat creeping up your chest and neck in embarrassment at crossing a boundary like that.
“Speaking of which,” Kyle says, clearing his throat to break the sudden tension, “we thought we’d offer to help fix up the cottage.”
“Really?” You ask with genuine surprise at their gesture. “You don’t have to but that would be really kind.”
“It’s no problem,” Simon adds. “It’s the least we can do.”
The following day the four men appear on the doorstep after breakfast as promised, toolkits getting unloaded from the back of the beat up old truck. They set to telling you what needs doing and dividing the labour between them while you work on the vegetable garden. It’s another hot day, and it’s not long before they forego their shirts, sweating in the sunshine. You can’t help but sit back on your heels and watch them as they work with skill and precision repairing the thatch and stonework.
You find yourself watching Simon as he repairs a damaged section of the thatch on the roof, the series of scars on his back shining in the bright sunlight. The marks looks so much like bites and claw marks you almost wonder if he has been attacked by a wild animal at some point. You shake your head and try to distract yourself from staring rudely by making lunch inside.
“How do you guys know how to do this stuff? I’d assumed I was going to have to spend a fortune on getting people in to do this,” you ask over lunch. You spread a hearty lunch out on the kitchen table where it’s cooler, thanks to the thick stone walls of the house, and the four men devour it happily. They fill the space, Simon having to stoop his head down to get through any of the doorways in the cottage, but they look perfectly at home and clearly know their way around the place.
“We’ve picked up some skills over the years,” Kyle explains. “We’ve lived around here a long time and it isn’t hard to learn when you’re doing things. We’d been telling Annie for ages these jobs needed doing but she was too stubborn to let us do them for her.”
“Still, it’s impressive that you can help like this. Your place must be quite something if you’re all as good as this with your hands.”
“You should come visit,” Johnny chips in with a glance at Price, as though asking his permission, and the bearded man nods.
“Yeah, I’d say we can arrange for you to come up to our place pretty soon,” he smiles. “How about tomorrow we meet you up the trail a bit and we’ll show you the way up?”
“Sound perfect,” you agree, excited to finally see where these men live.
“Fine, tomorrow afternoon then,” he declares to a series of nods from the others.
Price explains where to meet them, and its a little way up the trail from the cottage, where a small river cuts through the hills creating a steep but beautiful rocky gully. The walk is just as gorgeous as he said as you make your way along the track the next day. The drop to the river is steeper than you’d expected, but it only adds to the view.
As you amble through the forest you hear voices in the trees ahead, but not the ones you had expected. At least one of them is female and something makes you slow down as you walk, not wanting them to know you are here. As you near them, you drop low and watch, your stomach churning when you realise who they are. Poachers.
“Don’t put them too low in the ditch, they won’t walk down there. They’ll jump over it, so put it where you’ll think they’ll land,” the woman is explaining to the guy with her as he sets another steel trap on the ground ahead. “That way it’ll snap its ankle and it can’t get away.”
Fury rises in you and you march forward to confront them, forgetting you are alone as your anger takes over.
“Hey!” You shout, brandishing your stick like a club. “You shouldn’t be doing that, get out of here.” They stop and stare in confusion for a moment before looking at each other.
“What are you going to do about it?” The woman asks offhandedly.
“This is my land, you need to get off it before I report you for trespassing.” You try to sound menacing, aware it isn’t really working. The man drops the steel trap he is holding with a loud clang, and you flinch slightly. With a grim expression he walks towards you, and you hold the tree branch up in front of you.
“Don't come any closer,” you warn him. He lunges at you grabbing at your arm and twisting it so you drop your stick and you yelp loudly in pain, trying to kick him in the leg to hurt him. He’s stronger than you and soon twists you around, beginning to force you to the ground.
A growl cuts through the air and your assailant is knocked sideways with a shriek of terror. Barks and snapping jaws ring through the trees as your four furry favourites attack the poachers, sending them yelling and running through along the path and away from you.
Panicked you try to run to avoid being bitten, feet slipping on the loose ground and you tumble forward over the edge of the steep bank, managing at the last moment to grasp a tree root before you fall down to the river below. Winded you look up and see the wolves looking down at you, bright sunlight coming through the leaves above.
“Shit,” you whimper, staring up at their furry faces, realising you’re trapped. One of the larger ones walks out of sight, leaving the others staring down at you. Your grip slips and you risk looking down at the rocks and water below, trying to work out how to fall to cause the least amount of damage to yourself
“Need a hand, love?” A deep voice calls out and you look up to see a hand reaching down for you and above it, Price’s bearded handsome face.
“Yes, but watch out for the wolves!” You cry out as you take his hand and you’re pulled up as though you weigh nothing. As you reach solid ground you slump down and then blink up at him, your mind racing frantically and your heart pounding in your ears. He crouches down beside you and you suddenly focus enough to realise he is shirtless. A further glance shows him to be completely without any clothes at all.
“Um, why are you naked?” You ask weakly and avert your eyes as your face heats up, which is when you realise the three wolves are still here, looking at you. You scramble away with a scream, nearly off the edge again.
“Woah! Hang on there,” Price shouts trying to grab you but you try to avoid him, not wanting to be held by a naked weirdo walking in the forest. “Ah fuck it, show her lads,” he grunts as he backs off and you sit precariously and trembling at the edge of the drop again.
“What?! Show me what?! Who are you talking to?!” You scream hysterically at him not knowing who to be more afraid of.
Then the three wolves begin to change, standing up on their hind legs in a smooth motion as though somewhere an animator had used a special effect on the world in front of you. Fur recedes, ears change position and within seconds three half man, half wolf figures stand before you. Each with pointed ears, wickedly clawed hands and feet, and fur dusted, thickly muscled limbs.
Your skin goes cold with shock, and your mouth opens and closes wordlessly as you gawp, until your brain registers that you are looking at Kyle, Simon and Johnny.
“You okay, lass?” Johnny asks, crouching down next to you and giving you a broad grin showing his very long, sharp incisors as his tail slowly wags against the ground behind him.
“Fuck…” you whisper before you pass out.
You surface from your blackout state slowly, feeling yourself being jostled about then laying still again. A comforting smell fills your nostrils, a familiar one that relaxes your muscles, instilling a sense of safety in you as you come to. A hand runs across your forehead in a gentle gesture and you blink open your eyes, looking up into Price’s concerned face.
“Thought we’d lost you for a moment,” he says with obvious relief and helps you to sit up.
Price is wearing faded jeans now but no top, exposing his thickly haired chest. You look up and see Johnny and Kyle sat together on a sofa across the room from you, although sprawled may be a better word. Both shirtless wearing loose sweatpants and bare feet. Kyle is resting back against Johnny’s chest, his leg hooked around the other man’s shin.
The room is cosy, slightly untidy with clothes draped over the end of the sofa you have been lying on but clean and comfortably furnished much like your cottage.
“Where…. Oh bloody hell!” You squeal as Simon walks in wearing nothing at all, slamming your hands over your face to cover your eyes.
“Simon, put some fucking clothes on,” Price barks angrily, “you’re not helping the situation!”
“It’s our house, our rules,” Simon replies as you peer between your fingers, making no move to cover himself as he sits in one of the armchairs, manspreading flagrantly until Price hurls a pair of jeans at him with more force than necessary. With a sullen grumble Simon pulls them on without underwear, maintaining eye contact with you as he adjusts himself behind the button fly before sitting down again with a smirk.
“Look, I know this is a shock,” Price continues in a calming tone. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” you reply slowly, dropping your hands into your lap. “Just explain to me what is going on, because I don’t know if I’m losing my mind or have a concussion right now.”
Price huffs out a small laugh, watching as you look around, taking in the room around you. You’re sitting on a brown leather sofa, rustic furnishings and a certain man only decor abounds.
“Well, you’re in our… den,” he says, carefully weighing up how to phrase it.
“Den? Like a wolf den?” You ask.
“To be more precise, a werewolf den.” He keeps watching you, and you feel the similarity to the way the wolves in the forest have been watching you since you moved into the cottage. Gears turn in your brain, and things begin to fit together.
“Oh… its you guys… its always been you four, hasn’t it? The four wolves I mean?” You say, wide eyed with understanding. “So who did I free from the trap?”
Johnny raises his hand from where he is lounging with Kyle on the other sofa.
“That was Johnny,” Simon confirms. “I was with him and watched you do it. Pretty fuckin’ brave if you ask me.” Pride fills his words and a small smile touches his scarred face. Obviously risking your life like that for what you had assumed was a wild animal earned you their respect. “I was about to free him until you turned up and took over.”
“Yeah, Simon told us about that. You didn’t hesitate even though you didn’t realise you were perfectly safe,” Price nods, echoing Simon’s words.
“You’re all werewolves?” You ask, testing the word on your tongue cautiously.
“We’re a pack, bonded together now until death. We take care of each other and protect each other. We did so for Annie as well,” Price says with a grin.
“Wait, you mean….” Questions vie for attention in your head: how long have they lived here, how old are they, did your aunt know…
“We miss her, she was a hell of a woman,” Simon says wistfully. “A demon in the sack too.”
“Oh my gods you were shagging Annie?!” You gasp, and Simon chuckles wickedly.
“So, how old are you guys?”
“It’s hard to keep track after a while,” Price answers, scratching his chin. “I stopped counting after about two hundred.”
“You’re taking the piss,” you say, finding it too much to believe.
Kyle chuckles, disentangling himself from Johnny stalking closer to you. As he nears you his features change slowly, his ears lengthening and tufting with fur which spreads across his shoulders. His hands curl, claws tipping his thick fingers and his low slung sweatpants allow a thick tail to unfurl behind him.
“You sure about that, love?” He growls as he gets closer, and your heart rattles inside your ribcage. It’s not from fear though, you feel completely safe, they’ve been protecting you for months, looking after you and marking you as the airs, and even brought you to safety after you fainted. There’s a completely different reason for your pulse to be thundering like this, and you know why. After having fantasised about them for this long, you now know they want you the way you want them.
“Steamin’ Jesus,” Johnny groans and leans forward on the edge of his seat suddenly. “You smell that?”
“What?” You ask quietly, not taking your eyes of Kyle as he leans over Price’s shoulder. The liquid heat curling in your abdomen gets harder to ignore as he looms over you, and blossoms suddenly into an inferno when Price’s hand grips your thigh and squeezes.
“He means you,” Kyle says, placing one knee beside you on the seat and bends himself down to run his nose along your neck. “We can smell that you just got very, very turned on.”
You squirm in you seat, thighs pressing together as you look around you at the four huge men… no, not men… beasts.
“Fuckin’ hell, if she smells that good how’s she gonna taste?” Simon rumbles, palming the front of his jeans and looking uncomfortable in the harsh fabric.
“Steady lads,” Price growls, “let’s not scare her off, and absolutely not risk hurting her.” You notice they have all altered slightly like Kyle, as though their arousal has affected their ability to stay perfectly human, and they take on most wolf like characteristics once more.
“It’s okay,” you murmur to Price, placing your hand over his and he squeezes your thigh again, making you gasp softly while Kyle still nuzzles at your neck sensing you into a boneless state. Price chuckles, watching you soften.
“You trust us?” He asks and you nod, swallowing thickly when the tip of Kyle’s tongue runs along the column of your throat. “Good, we’ll take care of you. No need to stuff that pretty pussy with your fingers now to make yourself come, we’ll take care of that.” Kyle runs his hand up the front of your shirt and cups one of your breasts, a moan leaving his throat.
“Let’s take it easy for now, we’re gonna make you come on our tongues for today, get you used to us. You okay with that?” You nod again and whimper as Kyle pinches a nipple through your clothes. With your consent given, Price stands and tugs you away from Kyle who growls angrily at his prize being snatched away, but Price pays him no attention as he crushes your lips to his, one hand pressing your hips against his to grind you against his hard cock.
While you’re attention is focused on the kiss, Kyle gets up and presses his chest to your back, his hands skimming down your sides and around your middle to undo the zip to your jeans. With care he strips you bare while Price explores your mouth, and then kisses along your jawline, nipping with sharp teeth at the tender flesh of your neck.
Once you are stripped, he presses you back down against the sofa and me kneels on the floor, pushing your legs apart with his clawed hands, his human face barely recognisable as his instincts take over. His broad tongue runs up the inside of your thigh, sending shivers down your spine that flood your pussy with a fresh wave of heat as he looks up at you.
The first touch of his lips to your naked cunt makes your hips buck, and a collective growl of approval rumbles around the pack. Price licks at the seam of your pussy and your mind unravels, the hot, soft muscle slipping perfectly between your folds and flicking at your clit. You can’t hold in the whine that forms in your throat, and it’s all he needs to begin to devour you in earnest.
Sharp claws pressing into your soft thighs, pulling you against his face, his wide tongue curling and lapping inside your cunt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your legs shake with the depth of pleasure you feel, the sharp points of his teeth only adding to the intoxication of it all.
Kyle and Johnny position themselves either side of you on the sofa, while Simon prowls behind Price, waiting to take his bite of their succulent prize. Johnny kisses you fiercely, like he is starved for your mouth, tongue seeking our yours and wrapping with it. He swallows your moans and whimpers, fueling his desperation as Price fucks you with his tongue.
“Gimme your hand,” Johnny mumbles against your lips, and guides your shaking fingers down his chest and stomach until they bump against his rock hard cock and he hisses. He takes your unresisting hand and wraps the your soft fingers around his shaft, covering it with his own firmly, and begins to rock his hips.
The sensation of Johnny grinding his leaking dick into your hand tightens the hot coil of your orgasm, and your muscles clench around the tongue in your cunt. Price takes his cue and licks mercilessly upwards, shattering you into a thousand pieces as you orgasm, gulping down your juices greedily and drawing out the spasms of your walls.
With a satisfied grunt he sits back, licking his maw and shuffles aside as Simon takes his place, wide shoulders pushing your weakened legs wide before burying his muzzled face into your twitching pussy. Before your eyes roll back into your head you see Price throw back his head, hand grasping his swollen cock and starting to pump feverishly.
Your clit throb as Simon nose bumps and grinds against it, his tongue working deeper and deeper inside you, and his hands shift your thighs up and over his shoulders.
“We’ve been listening to you make yourself come for months,” Kyle whispers into your ear, taking his lead from Johnny and taking your other hand to wrap around own needy length. “It’s about time we showed you how good it can really be.” The two werewolves either knead and pinch at the swells of your breasts as the work themselves in your palms, and Simon growls between your thighs.
By the time you’ve let each of them drive you to orgasm you can barely keep your eyes open and your limbs tremble with fatigue, but you’re floating in the clouds and kissing the heavens. You curl into Simon’s broad chest, panting and spent, while the others clear up around you. The feel of Simon’s heavy hand on your back soothes you, and it’s inevitable that you soon drift to sleep against him.
You wake up feeling better than you have in a long time, warm skin pressing against you on all sides, just a thin blanket needed to cover you over against the chill of the air. You fidget slightly, finding a soft mattress beneath you and find they've moved you to a large bed.
It's dark still, gentle snores fill your ears adding to the peaceful security of the moment, and you roll over to your side, fully intending to go back to sleep. As you shift position a heavyset arm tightens around your middle and pulls you against a solid chest, your head getting tucked under a strong jaw so you settle against his neck. It's hard to tell who it is, and you don’t rightly care. With a soft sigh, you nuzzle against him and go back to dozing.
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diejager · 9 months
Note
begging for more monster 141🙏🙏🙏
hear me out- reader is a host to venom but has it hidden and they find out maybe…?
(i got hyper fixated on blue’s au and SCOURING the internet💀)
What if… Hunter was Venom?
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Pairing: Monster Task Force 141 + König & Horangi x venom reader
Cw: blood and gore, canon typical violence, head eating, gaslighting by Hunter, injury, fighting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.4k
Only Human masterlist
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Sometimes, they’d find you mumbling to yourself, voice so low that, unless they were a hybrid or had impeccable hearing, they wouldn’t be able to hear it. It was a ne’er silent whisper of harsh words or soft coos towards a being they couldn’t see. Were you talking to someone on your headset? Were you wearing EarPods to talk to someone? Or had you lost some screws in your mind after working with them for so long? None of them truly knew, but they wouldn’t bother you with it when you never bothered them with pesky questions that sounded insulting to them. After all, why would they bother their adorably useful and resourceful medic? You were the beating heart of the Task Force, you made it whole and functioning. Yet, they couldn’t stop the curiosity that festered in their mind, the need to know what made you talk to yourself, mumbling and cursing when you were alone. 
Nothing seemed out of order, you were still strong-headed and scolding them like you did the day before, mumbling about Soap’s recklessness and Gaz’s impending fate of falling out of airborne vehicles. About Price’s habit of working too hard, pushing his already pained body to work. Pulling Ghost by the - bloody and soiled - sleeve to your infirmary with a deep frown and eyes glinting with the promise of retribution for the hybrid that hid whatever ailed him from you; you were the medic for Pete’s sake! It was your duty to watch over them. Hounding Alejandro for his medical check after a deployment because, as handsome and dependable as he was, he liked hiding his wounds. Running after Rudy for his checkups while he was limping or trying to avoid you. Calling after Horanji for his share of the affection, needle, scalpel, bandage and all, he needed and deserved all the others received. Or sitting beside König, reminiscing about your early days, where taking care of your patients was as easy as taking care of König was, grateful and pliant, showering you with love and adoration before, during and after the procedures. 
You had your plate full with them, so it’d be unheard of if you had time to care for others. You might’ve been a medic on base, but your priorities and loyalties lay with them, with Task Force 141 and its allies. However being a - their - medic, didn’t mean you were free from any pain, fear or quirkiness as they were. You were as weird and as awful as every single one of them was, wearing it pridefully on your chest when you stood with them; even if you were wholly human - or you were supposed to.
Ghost caught fleeting moments where a dark mass would move around you, a glistening blob of marble-like texture with silver rivers running across it. It was near impossible to see it when it would disappear once it felt - even the slightest indication - the presence of another living being, like an illusion of trick of the light. That’s what you told them, it was simply a trick of the light or something because you didn’t know anything about an ugly blob. It was told slowly and persuasively with a wince once the words “ugly blob” left your mouth, a pained grimace as if something was grating your ears or claws were digging into your mind. When he brought it up with Gaz - who had impeccable eye-sight, the harpy would agree, spewing words about it having a menacing face with wide, pointed eyes and a mouth full of teeth. Big and sharp teeth that seemed alien-like. It couldn’t have been the trick of the light, especially since both of them saw the same thing. They asked you once more, together this time, but you’d reassured them that they were both tired when they’d seen this blob. You were tired and sometimes saw moving forms from the corner of your eyes too, so it might’ve been hysteria - collective hysteria.
Soap, if he tried hard enough, would sometimes hear a deep voice echo around you. It wasn’t something disturbingly deep, or annoyingly alien, it was pleasingly deep with a smooth undertone to its growls. It would send chills up his spine when he heard it, but he would always catch your voice talking back to it. He’d hear hisses and curses, some more unusual and others more normal: “I can’t eat my teammates!”, “I told you no!”, “Stop eating heads! People will catch on!” or “Can you shut up?” and “I can’t concentrate with you screaming my head off!” Soap, knowing how good Alejandro’s hearing was, asked if the Mexican had heard you speak with an unknown voice, specifically a male voice. A few muffled conversations between you and an unknown man and sometimes one-sided, but, simply put, Alejandro had witnessed the same occasions as the Scot had. It wasn’t unusual to talk to yourself, would it? Soap liked to boost his own morale with confident words and flattering compliments to himself. Alejandro wasn’t a stranger to mumbling to himself either, cursing his choice in life and how he ended up with his - lovable - problem-causing band of vagabonds.
If you weren’t careful or unintentionally careless, there would be a distinct odour clinging to your skin. It would be strong and pungent, the smell fresh and metallic-like. König knew it well, he craved as much as he wanted to bathe in it, the sweet smell of blood. How could he not recognize the faintest whiff of blood when it often drove him mad with bloodlust and the uncontrollable need to fall into a daze of primal hunger? It stuck to you like a second layer of skin, thin and always present. It sewed into the fundamentals of your scent, the tinge of iron mixed into the sweet, syrupy musk. It drove him mad with need, thirsting for the thing that made you smell so delicious. It clung to you as if you bathed in blood, drinking and devouring it, yet your skin was clean, with no speck of red under your nails, on your skin or between your teeth. In a worry, he went to Price, The Captain had the most knowledge about you and König could trust him to take good care of him, being a dragon. He expected the Brit to know something, even the slightest change, but Price hadn’t caught anything odd about you. Perhaps it clung to you because of your closeness to him, Percht hybrids - although rare - were ferociously unpredictable and ravenously bloodthirsty.
Rudy was the more human of them, so he caught on to the changes in behaviours and habits of others easily. You’d act odd at times, shoulders slightly tense and back slumped inward, body tired but unable to relax. He wanted to help, he proposed, but you’d turned him down, telling him you were fine, that you were just restless from being off duty for so long or for being worked to the bone. He would also catch you subtly avoiding them without ringing any bells, seeming occupied with other things while whispering under your breath; your slower reactions to their banter and the darker bags under your eyes, wearing that dazed and blank look in them while you sat with them; or the strong growl of your stomach and the slight rubbing of your stomach, soothing an ache that rooted so deeply in your abdomen. He worried, often, if he was honest. Even Horangi, a man oblivious to most cues and behaviours in humans, saw the subtle change in your behaviour when you acted odd. He pointed out the rings under your eyes, your fatigued and distracted mind, and your lip-gnawing hunger. For a hybrid that had so much difficulty grasping and understanding humans, he caught on to your change abnormally quickly, even with the excessive chocolate consumption.
They were all suspicious and you, their sweet and convincing medic, had them doubting what they saw, your gaslighting working on them as easily as a child bribed with candy. It didn’t make you feel less guilty or disappointed in yourself, but you weren’t sure how they’d react to him, not being human or a monster. He was a creature out of the pages of a sci-fi novel, a creation of the human mind and imagination. Venom was an alien, something from outer space. You were convincing until you couldn’t anymore.
Let me take over, the soothing voice uttered to you, calling out your name in a concerned tone. Let me protect you.
You were compromised, the enemy had tapped into your line, listening in on your conversations and movements. That’s how they were able to separate most of you, to turn the squad of nine operators down to four smaller teams, all on the run and trying to stick to the shadows without calling to the others through the comms. You were crouched over Gaz, whispering sweet nothings to the hissing man. You soothed his ache, hand and mind strained on the bleeding wound on his forearm, his beautiful, bronze skin stained with crimson in the hot and humid air of Columbia. 
Blood rolled down his tense arm, over his round muscle and sweaty skin, it was a clean graze, the blunt head of the bullet grazing his arm deep enough for it to bleed but shallow enough for it not to leave him incapacitated with blood loss. It was a ray of light in your dreadful situation. You had his wound cleaned and wrapped up, congratulating him for pushing through and helping him up. You cursed the enemy, wondering how the low-stake in-and-out ops suddenly turned out to be an extremely high-stake one with minimal possibility of reaching the evacuation point. 
“C’mon Gaz, we need to move,” you whispered to him, holding your rifle closely to your chest while you walked around the shadows of Guaitarilla’s back alley and dark corners. “We need to regroup at the evacuation point.”
“Yeah, good plan,” he nodded, following your lead even though he was higher-ranked than you, but in such situations, survival was the priority. 
You stuck to alleys, using the shadows to hide from the patrolling cartel that had the town surrounded, it nearly baffled you with the speed of their defences and counter-attack if you hadn’t heard of Las Almas’ attack from El Sin Nombre and The Shadows from you teammates. Although you couldn’t admire them, you could respect their skills and ability, you only wished it was for you rather than against you. 
While you watched ahead, Gaz had your back, peering around the corner before giving him the green to move. It was a rotation between who went first and who looked back, but you made it work with only you both. You were so careful, yet it somehow wasn’t enough, someone had noticed you and it sent you and Gaz rushing for cover, to escape the group of dispatched cartel members. It was stupid, running without looking where you were heading towards. It was stupid to let the enemy tap into your comms. It was stupid, the situation you got yourself into. 
You were backed into a corner, Gaz standing before you like a protective shield between you and the enemy, his rifle pointed toward the quickly advancing group. You wanted to protest about him using his wings to cover you, his wide, brown feathers expanded to hide you from those men. He was already hurt from pulling you away from harm, but he was now standing protectively before you. You couldn’t let him get hurt because of you, not anymore. 
Little One, his voice rang once more in your head, the reassuring pressure of his presence in your body calming you down by an inch. Let me take over.
If you let him take control of your body, it would ensure your and Gaz’s safety, then you could reach the others that you’d lost in the chaos of the battle. While you wore the combat medic’s patch proudly, your prior training before taking up your 16 weeks of medical training wasn't lost to you. You remembered how to aim and shoot, how to snipe an enemy from afar and protect your teammates from whatever danger you faced. None were lost to you, and you’d use every bit of training you had to protect them, whether it was as yourself or with Venom’s help. Venom’s help was undoubtedly useful, and right now, you needed him.
“Please, Venom,” you spoke aloud, your soft voice carrying through the blocked alley. 
“Who-” Gaz asked, confusion laced his tone, the question left unspoken as Venom’s deep, rattling voice boomed across the tight space.
“We are Venom, flesh bag,” he growled, body crouching down, not dissimilar to a feline laying prone while it waited for the right moment to attack, and pounced at the men.
Don’t call Gaz flesh bag, Venom, you whined, your voice echoing in your shared subspace of your mind.
“If that is what you wish.”
His heavy mass landed on a man, pushing him to the ground with a loud crack. You imagined that Venom either broke his back or a few of the Colombian’s ribs, it was sickeningly delightful, the sadistic pleasure from Venom sent you reading with mirth. His hands stretched to abnormal lengths to swing at the enemies with practised ease and familiarity. Whether they’d die from blunt force trauma from Venom’s strength or live with a concussion, none mattered to him, hunger raked his being, the throb aching in the back of his mind. It was a moment where he was let loose, where you wouldn’t need to gorge on an extreme amount of chocolate to keep him fed. This would keep him satisfied for a few weeks. 
Venom pulled the first two in, his jaw widening to clamp down on their neck. Gaz saw the dangerous gleam of Venom’s teeth, rows of pristine and immaculate teeth the size of a finger bled the man’s head red in a single bite. He shivered at the decapitated body that fell from your monster’s hand as he went for the second and third Colombian. He made a show of viciousness and raw, unadulterated bloodthirst with his eating. Fortunately, apart from the bloody mess and dead bodies, Venom was a relatively neat eater, licking his teeth clean from the red stains with a long, slimy tongue. Gaz couldn’t shake how your monster made him apprehensive, his body flinching and trembling at the greater being.
“Let’s go, The Little One wants to rescue the others,” Venom’s grating voice shook Gaz out of his stupor.
“Hu-Hunter’s there?”
Venom nodded, his mass retreating into your body, the mass melting into you like a second skin. It was as if Venom was never there, as if it was all his delusional imagination. Gaz rushed to you, his hands grabbing hold of you as he shook you in his grasp, he cursed in worry, concern lacing every word he spewed in a tornado of fear, curiosity and confusion. His soft feathered wings cradled you, casting a protective shadow over you as you hid in the darkness of the alley. 
“Gaz, we have to go,” you murmured to him, your voice soft and reassuring, trying to help him walk off the edge you were pushed to. You both were safe for now, the cartel that had followed you all laid dead without their heads in a thick puddle of their viscera. “We have to find the others.”
He let out a shaky sign, his head nodding in affirmation at your comforting words. He loved that about you, that ability to heal and mend their ache and anguish with a smile and sweet words. Then, pairing your softness with your stubborn viciousness made you a gem within the military, a one-in-a-million for them. Yet, all that clouded his mind were questions, about your safety, about that monster that melted into you, about what kind or what it was. Gaz had so many questions that he’d push back for the greater good of rescuing the rest of the Task Force, he’d hound you for answers later when everyone was back together. 
When Venom resurfaced, retaking control of your shared body, he’d reassured you that he knew where they were, his body being hyper-aware of the things that made you smile and laugh. You were his host and his joy. It was an easier job than the two of you - you and Gaz - had expected, Venom’s claws digging into the buildings as he scaled the walls to reach the roof. From then, he pulled nothing back, rushing forward with the same enthusiasm as König had when he led first, and leaped, the muscles of his legs pushing him high across the buildings with Gaz flying beside him. 
Venom had made quick work of the situation, his body invulnerable to anything but loud sounds and fire, which none had since it was a rainy night. You found Horangi and Alejandro first, Venom doing what he knew best: protecting you, in relation, what you loved too, and feeding on human heads, the chemicals in the human brains nurturing him. Alejandro and Horangi were naturally confused and distrustful of Venom, but you had Gaz to smooth things over, and knowing that Venom’s way of speaking was curt and up-to-point - annoyingly blunt - it made your body soar with relief. They, albeit confused and curious, followed you from the ground as Venom cleared a path to the next ones.
Price, Rudy and Soap were the biggest team from your unexpected separation. They jumped at Venom’s appearance, Soap throwing threats at him when he took a step towards them. That was expected, Venom - even being the symbiote you were hosting - was a stranger to them and Soap reacted according to his instincts. That blaring, red light that signalled his brain to send his body on complete guard about the danger, Venom couldn’t escape a werewolf’s keen situational awareness. You’d taken the initiative to calm them down, seeing as everyone was already down,  the enemy loaded with bullets and dying in a pool of their blood. You kept the explanation short and simple, giving them the important points before promising to tell Price everything he wanted to know after you found Ghost and König.
Those two were harder to find, forcing Venom to extend himself to sense the slightest presence of either man. It couldn't be easier that Ghost was a wraith, being able to disappear and appear at will and that König knew very well how to hide, perhaps as well as Ghost could. When Venom found them, Ghost shot first, “shoot first, questions later” seemed to lead his decisions with König not far behind him. He brought his arms forward to protect himself and you, hidden within his mass. Venom growled but didn’t attack them, hissing the words you spoke to him to them. It was a simple quote that you’d shared with them in situations where they needed to find you between the hostages or under disguise. 
Like calls to like.
It was simple, but telling. They stopped the moment Venom uttered them, knowing well you were inside Venom, Gaz landing before him and the others steadily arriving behind the two. Task Force 141 was finally complete, from the most humane to the most chaotic hybrid, some were hurt, grazed, protrusions, and stabbed, but all were alive. You were glad, you were really, really happy that everyone was safe and alive.
Seated in the Razor, the silence and tension were thick within the cargo hold, Horangi and Gaz framing your sides with Price taking the seat across from you. You could see the stress and tension rolling off his shoulder after treating everyone, his brows furrowed and a frown curled his lips under his beard. Beside him was Alejandro and Ghost, both - like everyone else - wearing a confused and disgruntled expression on their face, their eyes gleaming with questions left unsaid. You’d left them wondering if their minds were playing tricks on them, if they were seeing things, if they were imagining things and if they were losing their minds. You understood the anger, but you had your reasons to hide Venom’s existence.  
Price crossed his arms, legs spread wide as he leaned back, his head tipped back with an inquisitively serious look. He raised a brow at you, waiting to see if you could prove your case or if you had anything to add before he started. With nothing to say, you bit your bottom lip, your shoulders screwed with anxiety and fear. You didn’t know what to expect now that your well-kept secret was out. 
“We have a lot to talk about, Hunter.”
“I know, Captain.”
Better sooner than later, leaving it to fester and grow would be bad for the TF’s morale and relations. 
Taglist:  @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness
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deunmiu-dessie · 2 months
Text
ⅱ ▬ ⁽ 𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements, explicit content, spectrophilia, ghost/human, rough sex, "unprotected" sex, creampie, somnophilia, cunnilingus. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: after coming home from a grueling day of work, instead of being able to relax, the feeling of someone watching you has you scared. ꒰m!ghost ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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CLICK
𝒯 he soft glow of your lamp casts a warm yellow light throughout the desolate home, but it fails to dispel the darkness that lingers. You make a mental note, weariness seeping into your thoughts, to buy a new lightbulb from the mart later in the week. The dimness of the room matches the heaviness in your heart, as you feel the weight of loneliness settle upon your shoulders, part of you knows you should be used to coming home with no one to greet you, but it still stings nonetheless.
Struggling to remove your gym shoes, you let out an annoyed groan, exhaustion causing you to stumble and collide into the wall with a thump. Finally freeing your feet, you stretch your arms above your head and let out a tired sigh. Your muscles ache from the long day at work, and the fatigue seems to seep into your bones. Your eyes flutter closed from the effects of sleep deprivation but your stomach grumbles with a ravenous craving for a thick pastrami sandwich. The thought of sinking your teeth into the juicy meat and tangy mustard momentarily distracts you from the weariness that engulfs you.
Discarding your wool coat onto the carpeted floor, you shuffle yourself wearily down the hallway towards the kitchen, fully expecting it to still be a mess from three days ago. The cluttered countertops and unwashed dishes serve as a constant reminder of your chaotic schedule and the lack of time you have for yourself. It’s as if the mess mirrors the disarray in your own life, and you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. At times you missed living with your parents and not having any responsibilities. Being an adult was so stress-inducing you just wanted to lay in bed and cry sometimes.
Leaning against the hallway wall, you find solace in pressing your forehead against the cool, flowered wallpaper. Sleep weighs heavily on your eyelids, momentarily clouding your vision and tempting you to succumb to its embrace. And just as your legs threaten to give way, a gentle chill dances down your spine, jolting you awake with a surge of electricity. A tired sigh escapes your lips as you run your palm down your face, mustering the strength to continue towards the kitchen. The chaotic mess that greets you almost makes you cry.
Resting against the entryway to the kitchen, a pang of regret washes over you. Deep down, and not even buried that far truly, you wish you hadn’t taken your coworker’s shift. Despite your fondness for the woman, working two consecutive twelve-hour shifts was more than you could handle. And as the new nurse in the hospital, you were an easy target for those who wanted to shirk their responsibilities, they left you to run around like a headlesss chicken.
You finally gather the energy to carry yourself into the kitchen, reaching for a cup from the cupboard and turning on the sink faucet, allowing lukewarm water to fill it. Impatiently you can’t wait for the tap to run cold and quickly knock back the glass, the satisfaction of quenching your thirst outweighs the temperature. Slouching against the sink, you take a moment to stretch, feeling your joints crack and your muscles slacken. You flutter your eyes shut to stop yourself from gazing at the mess that’s your kitchen.
Placing the glass on the worn countertop, you set your medical bag on the kitchen island and head towards the staircase, overwhelmed by the longing for a shower and some rest. However, as you approach the hallway, a sudden shiver runs down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. Your legs momentarily go numb, and you manage to grab hold of the stair railing, preventing yourself from stumbling. After being on your feet for a whole day, you were shocked you had not immediately collapsed when you walked in the door.
A sudden sense of unease washes over you when you survey your modest home, the horrid sensation of being observed seeping into your skin and festering in your mind. It’s as if the feeling surrounds you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Your eyes dart between the dimly lit kitchen and the shadowy staircase, it’s as if the shadows themselves are in motion. Objects seem out of place, and didn’t you leave your bag on the island?
Confusion creases your brow as you search for your bag, it takes a while but you discover it leaning against the couch’s armrest in the living room. Your unease deepens, causing a slight twitch in your eye. The entire situation leaves you unsettled. Anxiously, you bite down on your lower lip, feeling the sting as your teeth sink into the flesh. Once more, the sensation of being watched intensifies, as though someone is observing your every move, listening to your every thought, and knowing your every action. Goosebumps raise on your skin, skittering down your back.
You shake your head in disbelief and pinch the bridge of your nose, the weight of exhaustion and hunger bearing down on you. ( the latter was something you would fix in the morning, as you did not have the energy to cook anything.) The darkness of the hallway only adds to your supposed delusion. With a heavy sigh, you push yourself away from the railing and begin the arduous climb up the stairs.
Stopping just shy of the top of the stairs, you reach your hand out and glide it along the cool walls beside you, feeling for the light switch— one may think that you would know where the light was in a house that you’ve lived in for two years, but you seemed to fail to find it every time. Your palm glides along the walls, desperately searching for the elusive light switch. It’s a futile attempt, as if the house itself is playing tricks on you. The anticipation builds as you inch closer to the top, your body tensing with each step.
Finally, the click of the switch echoes through the silence. But it’s not your doing. Panic sets in as you realize someone else must be in the house, but soon the hallway is bathed in harsh light, exposing every shadow and corner. Yet no one is there. You stare at your hand, questioning whether you had unknowingly flipped the switch.
Ignoring the fear that threatens to consume you, you force yourself to continue. Quickly, you make your way to your room, seeking solace behind the closed door. But even within the confines of your sanctuary, the feeling of being watched persists. It’s as if an unseen presence lingers, peering into the depths of your soul.
Your skin tingles in question as the ethereal sensation of fingers delicately cupping your cheek sends shivers down your spine (truly almost nonexistent). A surge of unease washes over you, even though you can’t see anything, you can sense an intense, ravenous gaze fixated on you. Shaking off the remnants of your episode, you take a hesitant step forward, determined to overcome any lingering apprehension. With a burst of courage, you scurry to your dresser and retrieve an oversized T-shirt, a memento stolen from your older brother years ago, along with a pair of plain black cotton panties.
No matter what strange occurrences were unfolding, you refuse to let them hinder your plans for a hot shower. The past twenty-four hours have left you covered in sweat and grime, and you are determined to cleanse yourself of it all.
With eager anticipation, you make your way to the bathroom, barely bothering to close the door behind you. Placing your clothes in the sink, you turn towards the shower, pushing the curtain aside to adjust the knobs and pull up the shower valve, spurring on the hot water. As the bathroom fills with steam, your breathing becomes slightly shallow, the heat causing your cheeks to flush.
Stepping back towards the sink, you gaze at the fogged-up mirror, your reflection blurred and distorted. Like a scene from a horror movie, you raise your hand and press it against the glass, wiping downwards and watching as the water droplets cascade lower, dripping on your discarded clothing below.
As your eyes meet your reflection once more, they immediately lose focus and fixate on the imposing figure standing just a few meters behind you. Towering over six feet tall, his muscular frame exudes a suffocating amount of dominance and power. A scream of terror and disbelief escapes your lips, and in a panic, you grab the hand soap from the sink and swiftly turn around, hurling it towards the intruder. The bottle soars through the air, crashing into the wall before landing on the tiled floor.
There was no one there; you were going crazy.
“Calm down. You need to sleep. It’s been a long day; your mind is playing tricks on you.”
You were just full of excuses, desperately trying to maintain your sanity. But surprisingly, those excuses provided a strange comfort, no matter how unbelievable they were. So, you decided to settle yourself down, shedding your work pants and kicking them aside. Your shirt and undergarments followed suit, as you let go of all inhibitions. In that moment, the fear that had consumed you was momentarily forgotten.
You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to wipe away any imperfections. Your eyes wandered down to your body, taking in the soft ridges of faint stretch marks on your breasts with your fingertips. As your palms venture lower, they lovingly caress your thighs, reveling in the velvety softness of your skin and the warmth that radiates from them.
With a shake of your head, you release a sigh of surrender, allowing your hands to fall gracelessly to your sides. You take a step closer to the inviting tub, parting the shower curtain to reveal the steamy water within. As you enter the embrace of the hot water, a soft moan of pleasure escapes your lips, the heat enveloping your entire being and melting away the tension in your muscles. This shower was exactly what you craved.
After diligently scrubbing your skin until it’s both raw (and irresistibly smooth), you find yourself sitting on the floor of the tub, relishing in the sensation of the water cascading over your hair and body. However, as much as you yearn to stay in the blissful sanctuary that is your tub until the water turns cold, you reluctantly acknowledge the losing battle against sleep that you’re already engaged in.
Carefully rising from the bathtub, you extend your hand under the cooling sprays of the water to twist the knobs and halt the shower, pushing the valve down afterward. Exiting the tub, you forgo the use of a towel and opt to let the air dry you while reaching for your toothpaste and toothbrush from their respective places. Relocating your clothes from the sink to the nearby shelf, you proceed to brush your teeth swiftly, counting to fifty before spitting and returning everything to its original position.
You grab your face wash and dispense a small amount onto your palm, with gentle strokes, you massage the cleanser into your skin, creating a lather that removes the remnants of yesterday morning’s messy makeup. Switching on the tap, you lean over the sink, allowing the warm water to flow into your hands, smoothly gliding it across your face and rinsing away the soap.
Your back divots suddenly with a delicate grace as an ethereal caress firmly grasps your sensetive hips, eliciting a startled gasp of surprise from your parted lips. Your eyes pop open, darting around in a hasty manner, well, stupidly, seeing as you hadn’t quite finished washing your face--- the remnants of soap trickling into your eyes. A sharp hiss escapes your mouth as you instinctively lower yourself to rinse away the discomfort.
Once more the tantalizing trail of fingers tracing along your spine is undeniably present. You remain still, your muscles tensing in anticipation, trembling as the touch ascends higher, encircling your neck. With trembling hands, you turn off the faucet and inhale deeply, attempting to steady your racing heart. The deep, seductive timbre of your name being whispered intimately close to your ear fills you with a bone-chilling terror. Quickly, you snatch your garments from the nearby shelf and flee into the sanctuary of your bedroom, momentarily struggling with the bathroom door.
“Calm down, calm down; this is not happening. You’re hallucinating.”
You erratically throw on your shirt, using it to also dry your face, and shimmy your panties up your legs, the soft cotton resting comfortably on your hips. You quickly crawl into bed and pull the comforter up to your chin, shutting your eyes and tucking your bottom lip into your mouth. (Your hair could wait, you were not getting out of bed.)
“Hey, Alexa, turn off: Bedroom Lights. ”
You can’t even recall switching on the overhead light, but honestly, you’re past the point of caring. The mechanical response plunges the room into darkness, and the moment your head hits the pillow (as comfortable as it can be when cold and damp), you’re fast asleep.
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You’re unsure how long it’s been, but your eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep when you feel the sensation of large, calloused hands gliding up your stomach softly. The touch is unfamiliar, but it doesn’t necessarily frighten you as it should, instead, you can feel yourself throbbing in your panties, gentle and shy. You blame your sleep deprivation on the lack of fear.
The hands approach your bare breasts, a thumb rubbing over the taught peaks of your pebbled nipples causing a soft gasp to escape your luscious lips, your cheeks burning with fiery heat, and your body arching ever so slightly from the bed, offering your breasts to the awaiting, eager palms.
Your pussy, warm and slick, constricts and drools with your arousal. Maybe it’s the thrill of imagining a supernatural encounter, but you’ve never felt as aroused and eager as you do at this moment; dripping and throbbing.
You feel a surge of anticipation as your panties are gently shifted aside, a trail of your desire following suit. Ghostly fingers swiftly trail up your inner thigh, getting closer to your sopping pussy, and despite the uncertainty of the situation, the mysterious touch ignites a fire within you. The paranormality behind the sensation makes your heart pound and your pussy salivate with need. Lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, a soft caress on your clit causes your hips to involuntarily buck, your lip bruised from the force of your bite. “Ah~”
Your voice comes out as a breathy, needy whine. The suspense of where and when the next touch will land sends shivers of excitement down your spine. And as soon as you're almost on the verge of begging, a rush of hot air sweeps over your dripping core, causing your pussy to clench instinctively. Your throbbing clit pulsates with an insatiable ache, lost in a haze of pleasure, and your eyes roll back, unable to fully grasp the intensity of the experience.
As the sensation engulfs you, your throbbing bud is devoured by their hungry mouth. The combination of their saliva and your own intoxicating arousal trickles down, moistening your tight, quivering entrance. The sensation is nothing short of divine, as if their touch is delicately fondling and slurping at every nerve within your shuddering body.
Your hips, moving with a will of their own, rise from the bed and writhe. You can’t help but squeal softly as firm, powerful, and large hands encircle your hips, forcefully pressing you down onto the mattress, indulging in your warm, sticky juices; skillfully teasing your clit with its tongue. Your cries and pleas echo loudly, a stark contrast to your usual quiet demeanor when having sex with men.
Oh, but you felt like a bitch in heat, like your entire being was engulfed in flames and burning you from the inside out— it made you want to scream and cry.
Your body trembles uncontrollably as the knot tightens, gripping your stomach, thighs, and lower abdomen. In a desperate bid for relief from the agonizing pleasure, you instinctively gyrate your hips. Your vision blurs and fades into a blinding white haze, signaling your impending climax. But just as you teeter on the edge of release, the touches abruptly cease, leaving you yearning for more.
You whimper and attempt to reach down to your soaking pussy to pat and rub at your engorged clit, but you unintentionally freeze in place; a small knot of fear causes your eyes to well up, yet it only intensifies your craving for its caress. When nothing further occurs, you start to plead, like a desperate whore— as if you hadn’t been touched in years.
And as if pleased, the ghostly caresses return to your sensitive clit, moving with a deliberate slowness that sends shivers down your spine. You can’t help but let out a series of soft moans, as you offer up sweet words of gratitude to the mysterious entity pleasuring you.
“Ah, yes, yes, please!”
Your body tenses as the knot tightens, aching with a mix of pain and pleasure. Your hips move uncontrollably, seeking more of that sweet torment. Yet, it stops once more, leaving you to come down from your ruined high. You’re a sobbing mess now, grinding against the air, waiting for something, anything.
Your throat constricts suddenly, leaving you breathless as fingers delve into your tight, dripping pussy, curling and prodding your spongey g-spot. The digits seem to know your pussy like the back of their hand, stroking every nerve inside of you. The squelching sound of your arousal drowns out your heavy breathing and mewling moans. The entity suddenly adds its thumb to the mix, circling your clit quickly. The pleasure escalates swiftly, and your eyes squeeze shut as a rush of pure ecstasy overwhelms you, leaving your thighs quivering and twitching from the deep, blissful climax.
After the high subsides, you pant for air, the tension easing from your throat. You sprawl sensually on your bed, clit throbbing and arousal coating your sheets. A tepid, exhausted breath escapes your lips as a thickness delicately nudges apart the folds of your pulsating entrance, prompting an instinctual urge to flee. However, unyielding hands firmly pull you closer, and your legs reluctantly surrender to their command.
You can feel a bulbous, mushroom-shaped tip forcefully penetrating your quivering, weeping pussy eliciting a mixture of pleasure and pain at the invasion. Your pretty eyes roll quickly to the back of your head as the unknown entity plunges its heavy, thick cock into your tight entrance, your thighs pressed to your chest and legs draped over broad shoulders.
You keen softly, as your pliable walls ensnare his cock in a vice-like, velvety embrace. “More, I need more; please fuck me, please.” Your plea is abruptly silenced as its thick length withdraws from within you, only to resume with an intense, unconventional rhythm—leaving you no opportunity to adjust to its entire length.
The unyielding grip on your waist marks you in the most delicious way, leaving behind a trail of bruises that only heighten the pleasure coursing through you. Your pussy feels so full and sated, despite nothing physically filling you, you throb with satisfaction.
Lost in the depths of your pleasure, the reasons behind your desperate pleas elude you, but you continue to spill them forth without hesitation, unable to think. Once again, your breath is stolen away, your throat constricts, and an intense orgasm surges through you like a forceful tidal wave. A delicious warmth then radiates from your core, spreading through your tummy.
The most painful and pleasurable feeling of being filled with cum has you aching for a taste of it. Your body goes limp, but whatever is fucking you doesn’t stop; their cock pistols into you despite you slowly losing consciousness.
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As your eyes flutter open, you gradually rise from the bed. The room is shrouded in darkness, leaving you disoriented about the time you’ve spent asleep. Urgently, you rush to the bathroom due to your full bladder. Stepping out of bed, a gasp escapes your lips as your foot lands on a cold, damp object. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s your panties. Blushing, you drop them and shake your head, with your hair still slightly wet from the previous night’s shower.
As you enter the bathroom, you opt for the wall light switch instead of the one on the ceiling, casting a gentle, warm radiance throughout the room. Oblivious to your reflection, you casually stroll past the mirror, too exhausted to spare a second glance.
As you ease yourself onto the toilet seat, your tired eyes gently close, and the tinkling sound of you using the bathroom lulls you into a state of sleep for a brief moment. A few moments pass, and you linger a bit longer before reaching for a flushable wet wipe, dutifully cleansing yourself before discarding it into the swirling abyss of the toilet bowl.
With a swift flush, you rise to your feet and shuffle to the sink to cleanse your hands. However, as you slowly open your drowsy eyes and catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, a sudden chill runs down your spine.
As you gingerly raise your shirt, a gasp escapes your lips. The sight before you is both shocking and unsettling. Crimson and violet bruises, resembling the imprint of a colossal hand, encircle your throat, cascading down to conceal your collarbone and shoulders. As your eyes wander further, a gasp escapes your lips. Vivid handprints, a testament to an intimate encounter, mark your hips in crimson and violet, while a constellation of hickies adorns your tummy.
As you gaze into the mirror, you suddenly catch sight of a man standing behind you, from earlier. Surprisingly, he seems closer than the last time you saw him, and you can feel the warmth of his body through your shirt. He stands tall, with bulging muscles and an overwhelming presence that leaves you breathless. However, his appearance remains a mystery, as you struggle to make out his features. Just then, the bathroom door slams shut, plunging the room into darkness as the lights flicker off. Your heart skips a beat as you feel hands slowly trail up your shirt, eventually cupping your pussy.
His voice is like a warm embrace, wrapping around you with its deep, sensual, sinful, and amused tones.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
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