Since it’s Halloween, how about tarantulas getting railed and well loved by a human. Just humans railing him but smothering him in as much love as they can, giving him overload after overload, but also drowning him in love.
He must not be used to this. Being doted upon. Because every time you run your fingers across the course hairs that sprout from his cheek or press your lips wetly to his mandibles in the closest approximation of a kiss his mouth can handle, Tarantulas looks at you like he doesn’t think you’re real.
He tells you that you should be afraid of him. Disgusted. Wary, at least. And, once upon a time, you were. But time has made him familiar to you and that familiarity has transformed into fondness. There’s beauty in the features that used to make you shiver; that still make you shiver now but for an entirely different reason. You press open-mouthed kisses to the many legs of his beast form, his mandibles, let your tongue fearlessly seek the inside of his mouth and swipe against venomous fangs.
Tarantulas is putty beneath you, malleable and desperate to be whatever you wish of him. His arms wrap around your waist, pressing you tight to his chest so you can feel the thrum of his spark as he whimpers into your mouth. His spike twitches, sandwiched between your bodies, and he cries out relief into your lungs as you reach between your bodies to take him in your hand. The head of his spike is leaking transfluid and you spread his own wetness over his length with long, languid strokes.
Tarantulas pulls away from your mouth to give you air, optics hazy with desire and lovesickness and disbelief. Like he still thinks that this can’t be real, like he can’t comprehend what you see in him.
You’re so beautiful, you whisper against his shoulder, kissing the flesh and metal as you increase the speed of your hand. He bucks up into your touch, needy and frantic, and you whisper sweet nothings until he spills into your hand and against your stomach.
You don’t stop kissing him and only remove your hand from his spike so you can adjust your position in your lap until you’re stradling him properly. Tarantulas is still hard between your thighs and he clings to you will alll his limbs as you sink down onto his spike.
Could you do headcanons for Tarantulas with a monsterfucker human s/o please
At first he doesn’t understand why you’re so infatuated with him when others are so disgusted.
When he finds out you’re into him, his ego can’t help but inflate a little. He’s determined to prove to you that there’s no better monster to fuck than him. He’ll consider it an experiment regarding your physical endurance.
He fucks like a beast, and is amazed that this little human doesn’t break, but enjoys it.
His mandibles click when he’s about to overload.
The first time he showed you his ovipositor, he was slightly worried you would reject him. But no! That, too, you took into your squishy body, along with a healthy batch of eggs.
Once you’re heavy and round with his eggs, he’ll curl up with you and rest the day away. He’s never had a mate before but you, he will certainly cherish.
Tarantulas in black arachnia's head while Waspinator grumbles in the background.
Beast Wars is fucking hilarious. I can't get enough of this show. I'm going to try and get more clips. The problem is the sure I use is down. I own the DVDs but I do not always want to drag those out to watch this show.
I call this “sketching over sketches I had screenshoted to test new SAI set up and suffering the consequences of not double checking the references” or just “Mesothulas/Prowl sketch”