#my monsterfucker ass Could Not Rest until i made this

[rhodophoria]

LET'S BEGIN... 🦌📻

#HI THIS SCENE WAS BIG SEXY #i'm not a hazbin blog i just had to share this specific moment alskjf #my monsterfucker ass Could Not Rest until i made this #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel alastor #{terato} #😳 #{🌹🎞} #🦷

[mlm-writer]

Tears of Lust pt. 2 (Dick Grayson x M!Reader)

Pairing:  Dick Grayson (YJ ver.) x Demon!Cis Male!Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 1113 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 16 - Dacryphilia Note: The writer juices really ain't flowing lately. Part one here. Tags: reader is in a rut, established relationships, nipple play, monsterfucker territory, cereal, spanking and so much consent we love it

You figured out what the cereal was for. It was your human lover who wolfed half a box down. Something about ‘fibres’. When your knot had deflated enough to pull out, you had made him a bowl and when he finished that, he just started eating out of the box like they were crisps. You tried to be patient, but Dick was naked on your bed and your eyes fixated on the crumbs on his chest. With each breath, you watched those crumbs go up and down. “Are you finished?” You eventually snapped. Your body was thrumming and there was only so much self-restrained in your demon blood. Dick nodded and put the box aside. As soon as his mouth was empty, you had your tongue on him, licking the crumbs away and very intentionally swiping over his nipples. Dick gasped and squeezed your arm. 

“I need more,” you growled, voice laced with a hellish overtone, “but if you can’t, I need you to leave now.” You looked up into your man’s eyes. He was clearly a little fearful if he could handle another round so soon. You understood, but for the sake of your sanity, you needed him to leave you alone if he needed rest. 

“Hurt me instead,” he suggested out of the blue, voice hoarse and breathy. You cocked up a brow, unsure of what he was implying exactly. “Bite me, spank me, get a whip from the closet. I need a break, but there are other ways to make me cry and enjoy it.” Your concerned expression morphed into a smirk at his filthy words. You went back to licking his chest, digging the tips of your claws into his soft pecs as your sharp teeth played with a nipple. When Dick started squirming too much, you took his arms and pinned him down onto the bed with one hand. With your free one you started pulling and pinching the nipple that wasn’t occupied by your mouth. 

Dick mewled in pain and pleasure. You could smell precum dripping from his soft cock. It didn’t take long for his nipples to turn a bright red, every touch to them aching in the most exquisite of ways. The scent of his salty tears was like gasoline on a fire. You only momentarily stopped to lick them off his face, your hand and teeth switching places every time you stopped to feed on his tears. When the flavour changed, you knew he couldn’t handle much more, the pain in his nipples too much. The sore buds had gone through enough. 

You let go of Dick’s hands. They immediately flew up to grab you by the back of your neck. Dick kissed you feverishly, needing your lips on his to retain his sanity. His skin was hot against yours, the heat radiating off him reminding you of home. He whispered pleas against your lips. “Hurt me more, please. I need you to spank my ass red and feed on my tears,” he urged you in hushed words. How could you deny him, when he begged so intimately? 

Your bulging arms lifted him up and manhandled him across your lap as you sat on the side of the bed. “Comfortable?” You inquired as you groped his round rear. When you pulled a cheek aside, you could see his hole was still red and puffy from your previous romp. The sight made you salivate. 

“Very,” Dick sighed as he put his hands behind his back, relaxing with deep breaths. His voice drew your attention away from his glistening hole. The first smack barely got a reaction out of him, except for a small hitch in his breath, followed by a small sigh of content. It was not unexpected that Dick had a high pain tolerance, but after a few smacks, you got impatient, your force increasing, the intervals decreasing. 

Dick got louder when your methods changed. “Take it for me, baby, you’re my human toy. You’re being so good for me. I can’t wait until I can fuck you again.” The praise made Dick only louder. One of his hands left his back to reach out to one of yours. “What is it? Too much already?” He shook his hands and led your hand down. He wrapped your claw around his neck and then returned his own hand to his back. “Oh,” you mused in surprise. You were gonna go insane. He was nonverbal on pleasure and still asking you to choke him. 

Your digits dug in right where he loved it as you continued to spank his bottom. Dick sang a symphony of pleasure from every contact between you. When you tilted his head up and bent sideways to look at his face, you saw he had his eyes rolled back, red-bitten lips fallen open. It was like he was possessed by pleasure, the forceful slaps pulling the tears right out of his eyes. The angle was no longer in your favour. You needed a better view of his face. You lifted Dick up and scooted back a little. You put him on his knees, his thighs straddling yours. One hand found its way back to his throat, keeping a tight grip as you forced his face to stay right in front of yours. 

Your textured tongue ran over his face as your free hand spanked the tears out of him. His cock was oozing precum over your thighs, but you ignored it. You knew Dick’s hips would signal when he was ready to be touched there again. You were impressed by Dick’s constitution. In spite of trembling the moment he was on his knees, he took his like a good boy. He endured your exquisite torture for longer than you had thought he would, but eventually he whispered a soft ‘please stop’ as he wrapped his arms around you. His whole body was aflame, scorching to the touch and twitching in the aftershocks of pleasure. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him down as you lowered your upper body onto the bed. When your back hit the mattress, Dick collapsed on top of you, wincing when his cock got trapped between your heated bodies. 

Your hand rubbed over his sweaty back, avoiding the reddening skin lower on his body. “You’re doing so well,” you cooed with your eyes trained on the ceiling. If you avoided looking at your special human, maybe you could keep yourself a little longer from spreading his ass and fucking the tears and cum out of him. 

Dick only replied with a long, exhausted moan and some mumbled words against your hellish flesh. “I need more cereal.”

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REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS

Likes do not help exposure!A comment in tags or replies can sustain a writer for months!

#male reader #kinktober #dc #young justice #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x male reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader #young justice x you #young justice x reader #young justice x male reader #demon reader

[midgardian-witch]

more monsterfucker jake,, eating him out while in werewolf form,, the feel of your long tongue so deep inside of him and your teeth pressing against his skin makes him so fuckin crazy and needy for you,, he tries to squirm around but you barely even have to use much strength to hold him down and manhandle him around however you please,, licking up his cum and cock after making him cum, maybe even teasing him by having your teeth just barely brush against his cock,,, or full on tilting your head sideways and having his cock rest right in your open jaw because you know he fuckin loves it,,,,,,,,,,👁️👁️um. um.

Jake 'Monsterfucker' Lockley seeing this and thinking: Ah yes, I need this near my ass and genitals 😏

Jake is laying face down on the bed, ass in the air while you just go to town on his ass

your inhumanly long, flexible tongue just driving in and out of his hole, reaching deeper than anything he has felt before

(this is also very much giving venom!partner tbh)

he's babbling in Spanish, his face pressed into a pillow so you can barely hear him

the way Jake is arching his back and pushing his ass towards you, tells your currently less logical, moon-addled brain, that he's thoroughly enjoying himself

you're in no hurry, slowly and meticulously taking him apart (ass first) until you feel him shudder underneath you with a muffled groan

you smell that he came before you see it

Jake whimpers as you extract your tongue from his hole, missing the feeling of being filled by you already

something almost like a purr rumbles through your chest as you easily flip him around

you see his flagging erection lay on his abdomen, his stomach glistening with a mixture of his own sweat and cum and the rumbling you emit is getting louder

your tongue flicks over your lips and teeth slowly, almost cartoonishly, as you look at him like a wolf at it's prey (which is not that far off from the actual situation)

Jake, with neither fear nor any sense of self-preservation, grins at you lazily

"What a big tongue you have, mi amor. All the better to eat me with, hm?"

on any other night (at least any that isn't a full moon) you would smack his shoulder and groan at how bad his jokes are

instead you slowly, sensually clean up the mess he made; your tongue sliding over his cock and stomach and gathering his cum before you swallow it all

he gasps as your tongue teases his cock and balls, your teeth so close he stops breathing for a moment

his dick is already twitching, slowly coming back to life, as you keep licking it like it's your personal lollipop (it might as well be, it's not like Jake would stop you (or could))

your hot breath hitting his most sensitve area makes him shudder and gasp

once Jake's cock is fully erect once again you lay down sideways against him and open your jaw wide with a growl

your curl your tongue around his dick like a vice and let him rest there, your soft growls fanning hot air against his sensitive flesh and your teeth surrounding it like a bear trap ready to snap

it's dangerous, like putting your arm in a lion's mouth (but putting your dick in a wolf's mouth which may be worse but who knows)

and yet Jake has never been so turned on in his entire life

maybe he could make a deal with Khonshu and have the full moon stay a little longer (or happen more often)

#moon knight #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley x werewolf!reader #ask answered

[2goth2moth]

Hey, can I request a blind date with a monster but they end up going home 👀 things get steamy

But then the monster's like "oh no, umm I gtg cuz I'm not human and they'll definitely find out now" kinda vibes?

(so it's basically human reader x shapeshifter in a universe where monsters are hidden)

You can come up with your own reasons for whatever ✌️ (any gender is fine) (I like were/minotaur monsters but you can pick any that you see fit)

Oof, ouch, this got a little more angsty than I wanted it to. I'm sorry! And I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you still enjoy ;-;

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pleasant Surprises (M!Werebear x GN!Reader, NSFW)

Fun fact about me: Picking the xenomorph from Alien in a game of Fuck-Marry-Kill with @xo-philia when we were younger was my monsterfucker awakening! So I couldn't resist putting that in when I had to think of a movie.

Word count: 3430

Includes: Mild angst, mild hurt/comfort, size kink, fur, frottage, minor scent kink, blowjobs with copious amounts of cum, very minor (blink and you'll miss it) pain kink, less-than-ideal communication in sexual situations

Going on blind dates is a little like rolling dice. They always started in the same place, everyone had their little superstitions and rituals to try to make them come out right, but more often than not they ended with uncomfy kisses, awkward goodbyes, and an unspoken hope that you never had to see each other again (okay, the metaphor isn’t perfect, but the foundation holds true). Sometimes, however, blind dates turned out great, a perfect six (or whatever it is you needed to roll), and you ended up really liking the person.

Sometimes blind dates ended with you making out with a massive cutie on your couch after dinner.

The two of you had been introduced by a mutual friend, and had hit it off the minute you met. Characteristically uncomfortable small talk over mid-afternoon coffee smoothly turned into raucous laughter and flirtatious touching between bites of cheap greasy pizza on the hood of his car. You had no idea how the very attractive mountain of a man- Arthur, he’d said in a voice that seemed far too sweet for his intimidating figure- would react when you’d purred a suggestive (but not explicit) invitation to him, but his ears flushed and he stammered out a “yes” before taking your hand and following you inside. You wasted no time leading Arthur to your couch and sitting down next to him.

“So,” you said, “what kind of movie do you want to watch?”

“I like horror.” His voice was a rumbly baritone that distinctly reminded you of brown sugar. “And anything science-y.”

You wracked your brain for any good scary science movies that you had already watched and wouldn’t get distracted while watching again.

“How does Alien sound?”

It was a safe option, as far as you were concerned. It was a good film, a classic in both scary and science-y departments, and you’d seen it enough times that staying focused on the task of “seduce the hot guy on your couch” wouldn’t be too hard.

“I’ve seen it before…” Shit, maybe he wanted to watch something new. “But I always like rewatching it.”

You cheered internally, but kept a calm exterior as you went through the motions of setting up your TV. As soon as you did, you stood up to turn off the lights. “Anything I can get for you?” You asked, running a very flirtatious hand over his shoulders as you passed behind him.

A tiny shiver went through him at your touch, and you relished in it. “N-no, I’m good for now. Thank you, though.”

Your heart squeezed a little at his very pink ears and the blush staining the back of his neck.

God, he’s so cute.

It was impossible to deny yourself a longer-than-entirely-appropriate moment to take in the very pretty flush before flicking the lights off. With the room now dark, you made your way back to the couch. You sit down as close to Arthur as you dared. Warmth soaked through the inches between your bodies, and you had to physically resist the urge to move closer to him. Trying not to jump him right then and there was taking up so much of your brain-power that you didn’t notice his hand creeping towards you until a warm pinky brushed up against your thigh. You stifled a jump and turned to see his handsome, bearded face staring at you, bathed in the light from the TV.

“Is this okay?” He asked, just barely moving his fingers against your clothed leg.

You excitedly shifted in your seat so that you were facing him, kneecaps touching. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been actively holding back from kissing you for hours!”

“Oh.” His eyes went wide. “You can, if you want. I, um. I’d like you to.”

That was all the invitation you needed to dart forward and press your lips to his. It was quick and chaste, and you pulled back almost immediately. Arthur was frozen, awestruck, for several seconds before he shook himself slightly. He moved towards you cautiously, eyes darting nervously around your face, before cupping your jaw in his free hand and kissing you. His lips started moving against yours almost as soon as they touched, the motion a sweet push and pull between you, his beard just scratching against your face. The warm pinky against your leg became a large hand that rested on top of it, squeezing in time with the kiss. You hummed, pleased, and teased the seam of his lips with the tip of your tongue. Arthur’s hand tightened on your thigh and he opened his mouth to you. The kiss turned sloppy, tongues slipping together with slick, filthy sounds.

Arthur’s hand traced a firm path from your thigh to your hip, where it held tighter and stayed for several heated seconds. You pulled away from the kiss, your lips separating with a wet smack. He chased after you with a little whine, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder and lowering his other hand from your jaw to your hip. With another little noise deep the back of his throat, he began nosing against your neck and along your collar. You had to stifle a giggle at the feeling of his facial hair tickling your skin.

Stilling him with a hand to the back of his head, you carefully threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him back. His eyes stuttered shut and he let out a barely-audible groan, hands twitching on your hips. You grinned and tightened your grip experimentally, very pleased with the strangled moan that he let out.

“You’re so hot,” you cooed to him

“You are too,” he panted, eyelashes fluttering with each pull of your fingers, which hadn’t let up yet.

The sight was too much for you. With a murmured “come here” you pulled him back to you, kissing him fiercely. It was rough, messy, all clacking teeth and noses bumping into each other. The sounds of your mouths moving together was obscene, and you could feel saliva slipping out where your lips met. You kept your hold on his hair, pulling his head this way and back to control the kiss, little spark of arousal went through you with each breathless moan that fell from Arthur’s mouth to yours. His hands kept gripping into your hips, growing tighter with each second that passed.

“Do you want me in your lap?” You asked, backing off just long enough to get the question out.

Arthur didn’t even bother doing that, nodding without breaking the kiss. Before you could even start to move, his hands slipped under your ass and he bodily moved you until you were straddling him. He was so warm beneath you, and you couldn’t help but grind down against him. The feeling of his cock, hot and impossibly hard beneath you, was intoxicating, and you rocked against him, groaning into his mouth with each motion. You could feel his bulge swell even more where it lay against the inside of your thigh. Somewhere in the back of your mind you distantly thought that getting him any harder should have been impossible, but you were too caught up in the feeling of wet, messy kisses being pressed to your jaw and neck to care. His body was moving under you, slight little shifts that you could feel echoing everywhere that he was pressed flush against you. The collar of your shirt was pulled down and away from your shoulder, the tip of his nail dragging against your skin, and he bit down on the newly-exposed skin, biting and sucking until you were whimpering in his lap, grinding down over and over again until you could feel your climax approach all too fast. Both of his hands had returned to their places on your waist, and they bit in as he pulled you to him, his own hips bucking up to meet yours every time. He had stopped his assault on your neck, no doubt leaving a dark, tender bruise behind, and his mouth lay slack and open against you, desperate moans and hot saliva spilling out. All of a sudden, ten pin pricks of sharp, impossible pain bloomed where his hands lay, and you came with a wail, hips stuttering to a stop against his.

Your eyes were closed tightly, chest heaving as you slumped over onto Arthur’s chest. He continued to grind his hard cock upwards, but it was much gentler now, slow rolls of his hips as one of his hands stroked your back. As you came down from your orgasm, you distantly noticed that the TV had stopped (stupid old piece of shit, never worked properly). You also realized just how uncomfortable the wetness of your pants was becoming, and you went to pull back. The hand that was caressing your back locked around your body. You shifted around, testing the give of his arms. Fully immobilized, but not necessarily complaining, you kissed his neck indulgently and wriggled your hips a little.

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” you purred into Arthur’s ear, “I really fucking want to suck you off.”

“Shit.”

You startled back as far as you could at the sound of his voice. The sweet brown-sugar baritone was shredded, gruff and way raspier than it had been.

Way raspier than it should have been, you thought.

You tried to pull back again. His arms didn’t budge. “Arthur, what’s up?” You asked gently.

A deep, quiet whine was his only response. “Did I do something wrong?” He tightened his grip on you, and your ribs groaned in protest. Your heartbeat began to climb as you squirmed again. “Arthur, let me go, you’re hurting me.”

The vice-like arms around you flew away from your body, a deep sigh of relief escaping your lungs. You went to pull back again, to look in his face and ask what was wrong, but his strangled voice stopped you in your tracks. “I’m sorry! I just… I didn’t want you to look at me.”

“Why? I’ve already seen you.”

“Not really. You wouldn’t be here if you had.” He sounded like he was about to cry.

Your heart squeezed painfully at the sound. Without a second thought, you leaned your face into the heated skin of his neck. You could feel hair there, thick and soft, that hadn’t been there before. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to not freak out. Or I can close my eyes and you can go, or calm down, or whatever you need to do. Just tell me what you want.”

“I want...I want to tell you,” he said, in that shy near-whisper of a shared secret. “You can look at me.”

Slowly, slow enough for him to tell you to stop, you shifted back to look at Arthur in the face. Whatever it was that you had been expecting, it wasn’t this. Thick, dark hair- no, now that you saw it up close it was very clearly fur- covered his face and neck, darkened his temples, sprung from his arms and hands. His jaw had broadened and lengthened, forming a sort of muzzle, and his canines had grown, pushing insistently at black-edged lips. Large claws tipped his furry hands. His gaze was dropped to his lap in what was clearly some combination of fear and shame, but…

You were undeniably intrigued by what you saw. Intrigued, confused, and more than a little aroused.

“You’re…”

“I’m a werebear.” Despite the new gruffness, his voice sounded fragile. “I’m a monster.”

You shook your head emphatically and leaned forward to put your arms around his shoulders. “I was going to say that you’re gorgeous, but sure, let’s go with that.”

Arthur blinked at you in confusion. “You’re not scared. Or disgusted.”

“Why should I be?” You asked. “You backed off when I told you to, you clearly don’t want to hurt me…”

“But I’m a monster!” He cut you off, heedless of how his hands moved to rest on your thighs. “I’m not normal, I’m not human.”

You silenced him with a finger to his lips. “And I don’t care. I like you quite a bit, if you couldn’t tell. This is just something fun and extra. I’m not going to run screaming for the hills, although I would like to know more about it, at some point..”

“Really?”

“Yes,” you said, all playfulness abandoning your face and voice, letting every ounce of sincerity you had in you spill over. “Really.”

Those large, furry arms wrapped around you, cradling your body against his in a warm embrace. You leaned into it, your hand rubbing the back of his neck. Hiccupping breaths stuttered through his chest and into you.

“Thank you,” his voice rumbled where it was tucked against your neck.

You shifted your weight in the hug, trying to ease the pressure on your knees, and felt his cock against the inside of your thigh. “Still hard?” You teased.

Arthur’s eyes shot open and he pulled away, face stained red under the fur. “Oh damn, I didn’t… shit, I’m sorry.!”

“Don’t apologize,” you cooed, careful not to brush his heated length. “Do you want me to help you with it? I did tell you how much I want to blow you.”

Seconds passed and you questioned whether you had crossed a line, staying stock-still until he nodded his head. “Yes, please.”

He sounded shy when he asked, and you couldn’t help but kiss the tip of his nose before slipping backwards off his lap to the floor. Now that you were level with his crotch, you could really take in just how big he was. The bulge in his pants had seemed large when he was under you, but in front of you it was massive. His thighs were thicker than they had been before, robust muscle and fat dwarfing your hands as you slid them up to his straining zipper. His body heat seared your palms through the fabric. You couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t noticed him shift beneath you. Without arousal clouding your brain, you could properly marvel at just how significant- how beautiful- his newly monstrous form was. Your hands paused over his fly and you looked up at him, staring through your lashes, silently waiting for permission to continue.

“Please touch me,” Arthur begged, his hips bucking up slightly.

You smiled at him, scooting forward and turning your head to kiss the inside of his knee, before slowly undoing his fly. Letting your fingers graze over him with maddening softness every time you could, you slid your hands up through the soft fur on his abdomen to push the bottom of his shirt out of the way. A groan escaped his mouth as you scratched over his stomach, into the warm, musky fur on his pelvis, and pulled the waistband of his boxers down just far enough for his dick to spring free, almost hitting you in the face.

The way he had pressed against the zipper of his pants had not done him justice. His shaft was easily the length of your forearm, the head flushed red and glistening with pre-cum. It bobbed and twitched with each minute movement of his body, a lewd display that you thought you could watch for hours. The base was surrounded by a nest of curly fur that you desperately wanted to bury your fingers- or your nose, dear Lord- into. A moment later, the euphoric realization came over you that you could.

You wasted no more time before ducking your head in and pressing an open, messy kiss to the underside of his length. Trailing your mouth along the thin skin, you happily made your way to that gorgeous dark fur. The feeling of nuzzling into it was unbelievable, the strands silky and thick on your skin, that lovely musk filling your senses and making your head go a little fuzzy. With a little moan, you pressed in closer, licking and kissing constantly, letting saliva slip out of your mouth to wet the base of Arthur’s shaft. You carefully tucked your fingers under the waist of his underwear to pull his balls free. They were covered in a dusting of that same fur, heavy and hot where you cupped them in your hands. You made your way back up his shaft, pausing indulgently to suck on the skin of his balls, relishing in the way that Arthur’s thighs quivered where they bracketed your shoulders. Clear, slick fluid dribbled from the head of his dick when you ran the tip of your tongue around its base. A drop fell to your face and you wiped it clean with the back of your hand.

“Oh shit.” His voice came out rumbly and strangled when you delicately lapped pre-cum from the prettily flushed head.

A quick glance upwards showed his bottom lip caught between wickedly sharp teeth, face reddened and eyes shut tight. You mentally promised yourself that one day, if Arthur gave you the chance, you would edge him until he cried with just your mouth.

This was not that day.

In a single swift motion, you stretched your mouth as far around his cock as it would go. You could barely take a quarter of the length and your jaw began aching in seconds, but all you could think was how damn good his heated flesh felt against the inside of your mouth. A moan broke free of your throat, sending vibrations down his massive cock. More pre-cum squirted directly into the back of your mouth and he bucked his hips up, only slightly, but still enough to make you choke around him and draw tears to your eyes.

His balls tightened where they were still cupped in your hands, and you could tell he was close. As disappointed as you were that you couldn’t keep going longer, you knew that he had already been close to his climax when you were dry-humping each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Besides, your jaw was really starting to hurt from where it was gaped around his huge girth. Pulling back far enough that his cockhead just barely rested against your lips, you paused for several seconds, never letting the slick tip leave your skin, smearing a combination of spit and pre-cum onto your mouth and cheeks. You panted, catching your breath for a few moments before you took him back in. Suckling delicately at his tip, you relished in the bursts of pre-cum that shot into you before steeling yourself, relaxing your throat, and swallowing his shaft as far as it would go.

Arthur cried out, the sound deliciously caught between a growl and a wail. His breaths turned ragged, control fraying from arousal and the effort it took him not to fuck upwards into your mouth. You desperately wanted him to feel good, and began working him over aggressively. You bobbed your head up and down, copious amounts of spit sliding down his shaft, gagging as you took him down as far as physically possible. Swallowing around him when his cock hit the back of your throat, your mouth rippled around him and you rolled his balls in your hands.

“I’m...fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

With a great deal of effort, you pulled your tongue back and probed it into the slit at the end of his head. Clearly the intrusion, coupled with the slick pressure of your mouth and loving caress of your hands, was too much, and it pushed him over the edge of his climax.

Salty, bitter cum shot down your throat in thick ropes, making you choke again. You swallowed as much as you could, but it was just too much, and you pulled off, coughing. His orgasm kept going, longer than any you had ever seen before, covering your face and torso with sticky cum. It dripped from your body onto the tile beneath you, spilled from the corners of your mouth, hung in creamy drops from your eyelashes.

A huge, clawed hand carefully wiped the spend from your eyes, moving to cup the back of your head. “Are you okay?” Arthur’s voice was gentle and concerned under the animalistic rasp.

You nodded tiredly, leaning into one of his thick thighs. Exhausted from the excitement, your eyes began to slip closed, your breath evening out into the shallow rhythm of sleep. The last thing you felt was a sweet kiss on your forehead and Arthur’s deep rumbly baritone.

“We’ll talk when you wake up. I promise.”

#shoutout to Teeth for corrupting me! #also you guys should 100% check out his blog if you haven't #it's good shit #monster fucker #monster lover #exophilia #terato #monster x human #monster boyfriend #smut #nsft #enthusiastic consent #minors do not interact #terfs dont fucking touch #bigots dni

[iloveyou3thousand]

what he’d been missing

Pairing: Starker Rating: Explicit Word count: 2668 A/N: This was written for the @starkerkink Kink Exchange, for @iammagicfishhook who asked for some monsterfucking. I really hope you like it!!

Tags/TWs: explicit sexual content, werewolf Tony and human Peter, werewolf sex, werewolf anatomy, belly bulge, knotting, rimming, bottom Peter

Read it on AO3 here!

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It had taken them a little while, but they had finally figured it out.

Before they had gotten together, Peter had one day found out that Tony wasn’t like most people he knew. It had been entirely by accident, had happened only because Peter had been up later than usual working on a project. By chance, his extra sensitive hearing had picked up on something stalking the compound and he’d gone to investigate, only to find a large beast roaming the compound grounds.

That could have been that. The compound was in the middle of nowhere, after all, surrounded by woods that stretched for miles upon miles – the animal could have stumbled upon the building and gone to investigate.

Peter had quickly found out that the intruder hadn’t come from elsewhere, though. He’d come from within.

Weeks later, after dancing around each other for months with neither of them brave enough or confident enough to be the one to take the first real step forward, they got together with a kiss that was about as accidental as Peter finding out that Tony was a werewolf.

Tony allowed Peter to be nearby during his shifts, from that moment on. Peter had already seen him change before, had been near in the past, had seen him and approached him and gotten to know him a little better, in a sense. But now that they were together, it felt almost like it was more serious. Like being there during the full moon carried more weight than it did before.

And it did. Unbeknownst to the both of them, at least at first, the fact that Peter was there almost every time Tony shifted, changed something in the wolf’s biology. He had always responded differently to Peter, but that was only getting worse with every shift. On the outside, it didn’t appear like it had changed much, but on the inside, every time Tony shifted, he grew more and more restless to the point where even Peter started to notice it in his behavior.

Tony would always come up to Peter and push his head against the younger man’s hand for some quick affection, but that grew into a firmer push, a more demanding gesture, with Tony not leaving until he’d nearly pushed Peter to his ass and could rub himself against the other without fear of Peter getting away.

He also started grooming Peter, almost as if he were one of his own, as if he were a wolf, too. Or he would get snappy at anything and everything that could possibly pose a threat to Peter, from a little wild rabbit showing its little face at the edge of the woods to Happy’s car returning from the city to bring Pepper back and forth even just passing them by.

Peter tried not to think about it too much, but the growling and the protectiveness and the restlessness grew worse and worse every time, to the point where he just had to bring it up with Tony.

It took them a while and some help from Bruce to figure out that since getting together, Tony’s hormones had been all over the place. It’s what had been causing the change in his attitude, and the fierce protectiveness. According to the tests they’d done, Tony already viewed Peter as his true mate, even though that connection could never be truly mutual because Peter was human and he didn’t have the kind of senses to pick up on and return that.

At least it helped them in finding a solution.

Going forward, they started trying whatever they could to reassure Tony’s wolf that Peter was his and his alone, and that nothing would ever come in between them or sever the bond they had built. It seemed to work at first, with Tony calming down and resting quite peacefully with Peter during another one of his shifts, but then it came back again. And it came back with twice the force.

When it started to get potentially dangerous for Peter, they both knew that they were approaching desperate times, and thus would have to try and implement some desperate measures.

Luckily, Peter still had a little trick up his sleeve.

When he told Tony, Tony was skeptical. He was worried, for Peter, afraid of hurting him. But Peter countered wisely that if they didn’t try this as a last resort, if this didn’t work, then Tony would end up hurting Peter on accident anyway without there being anything that could stop him. That terrified Tony more than anything else.

All in all, Peter’s plan seemed like the lesser of two evils. (Actually, it didn’t seem like a bad idea at all, but Tony refused to admit that the thought of mounting Peter properly got him so riled up that he had to excuse himself every time he even so much as thought about it.)

The following full moon, they were all set.

In the hours leading up to Tony’s inevitable shift, they lay down together. Peter showered Tony in attention that made him visibly preen already, his instincts close to taking over, but the moon wasn’t quite high enough for him just yet. The younger man passed him a bottle of lube and Tony quietly reconfirmed that he was still sure about this. Peter smiled, cupped Tony’s cheek, and kissed him.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he promised, although it didn’t do enough to soothe Tony’s anxiety. He was afraid of hurting Peter, afraid of putting his claws where he shouldn’t, or pushing him too far, or forcing him into something that he didn’t want to do. But Peter had been so reassuring, constantly validating Tony’s feelings and fears and acknowledging that it was going to be scary, but it was going to be alright. They just had to do this once to figure out how it all worked, and then they’d be good as gold.

Tony had to trust his instincts. Hopefully, his instincts would serve him right.

By the time Tony’s skin buzzed beyond discomfort and he’d slowly spread his baby open on his fingers, Peter gave him a kiss and told him to go and do what he had to. Tony’s feet could barely hit the carpet on the floor next to the bed or he’d already shifted, shaking out unruly, brown fur, and immediately catching a whiff of something sallow.

The lube.

His mind took a second to catch up, but then he whipped around, and there Peter was; lying on the bed, watching the wolf on the ground, something scared but excited in his eyes. Beyond that thick smell of artificial slick, Tony could smell Peter, could smell the arousal on him, and it was like something clicked.

This was what he’d been missing.

“Hey Tony,” Peter said softly, almost tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure if Tony’s mind had caught up with the wolf yet, but it had. Intelligent eyes rose to meet the younger man’s gaze, and Peter’s expression eased into a soft smile. Without further ado, while Tony was watching, Peter pushed himself up onto his hands and knees to put himself perfectly on display, almost teasingly.

Tony was on the bed in a flash, the mattress dipping beneath the wolf’s heavy weight. He had to find his balance first, unused to being on the bed in this form, but quickly managed when there was another task at hand.

He immediately pushed his muzzle up against Peter’s hole, slick and shiny with lube, stretched rim twitching gently under the soft puffs of air when Tony scented and snuffled. Peter giggled, and dropped his head to his forearms.

“Tickles,” he complained, but really it was only mildly bothersome because it was new, something Peter had never experienced before, and he wasn’t sure what to expect yet.

Definitely not the broad tongue that followed Tony’s huffy breaths, lapping in one long, broad stroke up Peter’s taint and across his glistening hole. Peter’s breath immediately caught in his throat and he let out a choked sound of surprise, but didn’t try to move away. Once he got past that initial oddness, it actually… It actually felt really good.

He moaned when Tony didn’t hesitate to do it again. And once more after. And yet again. Peter’s cock between his legs had already fully filled out by the time Tony changed tactic by pressing his muzzle up against Peter’s hole and pushing his tongue past the tight ring of muscle and into his body, which opened up and welcomed the intrusion like it was meant to.

Peter shuddered on the spot, cock twitching, the long tongue reaching places inside him that he wasn’t sure anyone had reached before. Not like that. Tony had sure tried, had taken him in his lap and pound into him before, and it had been an otherworldly experience, but even that didn’t compare to this.

And they had only just gotten started.

When Tony was satisfied with the job he’d done and left Peter’s hole sloppy and wet, he moved away, much to Peter’s dissatisfaction. The young man looked over his shoulder to see what Tony was doing, and caught him with his head between his legs, licking at the fiery red length that was slipping out from the sheath at Tony’s lower belly. He lapped at it as if to encourage it, to slick it up, ready to bury it into Peter’s waiting body.

Astounded by the size he’d just laid his eyes upon, Peter turned back when Tony shifted once more, keeping his eyes forward to try and help himself relax once again. Something so big would never fit inside of him. It simply couldn’t. And yet when Tony mounted him, large front paws on either side of Peter’s ribs and his large tongue lapping soothingly against the back of his neck, Peter realized he was just going to have to take it.

“Be gentle,” Peter reminded Tony almost frantically, his voice a higher pitch than usual. Tony paused for a moment, and then licked the back of his ear as if to say ‘I hear you, I’m listening, I promise’. And then Tony lined up.

Peter’s body opened up for the pointed tip of Tony’s cock like it was the easiest thing, the wolf’s saliva easing its way. It was warm, and smooth, and big, but Peter took it silently, wordlessly, without complaint, until the very beginnings of the knot that Tony had warned him about countless of times nudged up against his stretched out rim and the wolf had successfully buried all of himself inside the human.

Peter let out a shuddery sigh, relaxing slowly with the soothing little licks to the back of his neck and his hair. Grooming. Tony had been doing that for a while, and it still helped Peter relax, inexplicably. But right now he couldn’t have been more glad.

Especially when Tony started moving not long after.

And it seemed that once he got a taste of it, that cautious approach he’d started out with was thrown out the window. The first few thrusts were relatively shallow, patient, careful – but Tony sped up quickly, putting that massive strength in his hind legs to good use to force himself in and out of Peter faster, quicker, rougher. Every thrust knocked the air out of Peter’s lungs but the overwhelming pleasure that came with the quickening pace left him without the ability to breathe anyway, so it didn’t matter.

Peter grabbed at the bedsheets, the only leverage he had against the rough thrusts that almost lifted him up off his knees every time, shaking the bedframe. Tony panted into Peter’s ear, hot and humid, occasionally darting his tongue across a stray drop of sweat that gathered on the back of Peter’s neck.

The younger man was useless beneath the wolf, just trying to keep himself on his knees, speared on Tony’s cock, tossed about with the force of the thrusts. He was strong, stronger than most human beings, but he had never felt more like a ragdoll than he did while Tony was fucking into him like that.

And he liked it. God forbid, he liked it so much that he came without touching himself, without even knowing that he did, floating on endless, overwhelming waves of pleasure that every harsh thrust brought with it.

They became more ragged and irregular by the second, and Peter knew that it would soon be over. He already missed it, even though it hadn’t even ended yet. But he was in for one more surprise.

Tony’s knot had already grown to the size of a relatively small apple, sitting at the base of his cock, nudging Peter’s hole with every other thrust, just begging to be let inside. It slipped in occasionally, much to Peter’s pleasure, that sudden, extra stretch and extra couple of inches deep within him rushing him closer and closer to a second orgasm.

And when Tony finally fitted all of it inside of him, and Peter could feel it rapidly start to increase in size, tugging at his already stretched out rim – that’s what did it for him the second time around.

Peter quickly brought a hand down between his legs to stroke himself through his orgasm, moaning and keening and writhing beneath the wolf as the knot grew and grew, sealing them together to be followed up with a load buried so deep inside Peter’s body that it had the younger man feeling more bloated than he ever did before.

He pressed a hand to his stomach, panting, marveling at the feeling, and froze up when he felt the deformation on his belly. He pressed against it, and Tony above him whined, his massive cock twitching inside him and filling him with another load.

Peter smoothed his fingertips over the bulge under his skin again and again, the thought of Tony so deep inside him that it could do that nearly sending him over the edge again, but his cock was still weakly twitching from his last orgasm. Although Peter wouldn’t be surprised if he would be good to go again in seconds. Not with the enormous knot tugging at his abused rim.

The large wolf collapsed on top of Peter, and he groaned under the weight, constricting around Tony. Instantly, Peter noticed the change. He hadn’t seen Tony this sedated, this sated or happy or satisfied in a long time, not while in his wolf form. Not to mention the affection that followed, the grooming and the playfulness, all so unhurried.

Peter praised the wolf softly, reaching a hand over his shoulder to pet his head and compliment him for his behavior and his patience. They were stuck together for a while, but even after, Tony was a different wolf.

He cleaned Peter up and made sure the young man got comfortable before he lay down with him and looked up at him with those big, doe eyes full of adoration, as if their spiritual bond had just been confirmed tenfold.

And really, Peter would be lying if he didn’t…kind of feel it too.

Or maybe he was just seeing things.

“I’d say that worked, didn’t it?” Peter murmured sleepily, combing his hand through Tony’s fur. He received a lick in return, which in wolf speak must have been something agreeable. Peter was sure that if Tony had been able to speak, he would have said so too. And he would have likely suggest they go for another round.

And hell, it only took Peter a little while to recuperate from his first time taking Tony’s wolf cock. Before too long, he was already toying with the sensitive sheath on Tony’s lower belly with a mischievous grin, watching the pointed tip of his cock slip out slowly.

If Tony could have raised his brows, he absolutely would have.

But he’d be crazy if he was going to say no.

#StarkerKink2020 #starker #ironspider #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #tony stark x peter parker #starker fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #werewolf au #nff #aus #tw knotting #tw belly bulge #look at me posting something again wow it's been ages #in my defence i lost my job so I've been busy welp

[skelanonymous]

Day 12 - Monsterfucking

Day 12 - Monsterfucking - Cherryberry

“Oh no.” Blue looked over at his boyfriend Red, currently panting from magical exhaustion but still forcing himself onward. He had to stop the encroaching feral creatures from the forest, Blue and Red agreeing to hold the line here until the others could fend off the main threat.

Blue could feel his limit too, but held back from pushing too hard or he’d...change.

All the skelebros had discovered back in their own universes that upon pushing too hard, pulling more than they had, they’d transform into gaster beasts, large skeleton creatures with wide hinged heads and long bony tails that left their bodies uncontrollable. They couldn’t turn back until their magic ran out again. Which considering they had to trap the beast so it couldn’t hurt people, it took DAYS.  

Since the convergence, it had happened to all of them at least once. Besides Red.

Red put in as much effort as the others, quite frequently in fact, but he never turned. Red often dealt with gaster beasts the best as well. He credited his brother making for a wily monster, difficult to trap even out of his mind. Blue, meanwhile, was pretty bad at catching them, so the prospect of facing Red that way was terrifying.

Red’s strength was waning, the shift crawling up his bones. The creatures diverted over to Blue. 

“Fuck!” Red reached out for him, but the transformation had started and he was powerless to stop it. Blue sent out a few waves of bones to keep them in check, but there were too many, Blue couldn’t summon the energy, and if they both lost it, this area would be decimated. Blue stumbled back into a tree.

“AHHH!” Blue covered his face and prayed, hiding his face behind his arms when he saw the horde leap at him.

“GRRRRRRAAAARRRRR!” A tail whipped the creatures back. The red beast pounced on the attackers, swiping with his claws, creating dust wherever he stomped. After a good frontal assault, the creatures retreated into the trees. Then the giant head swivelled around.

Blue froze under the gaze. It still had Red’s eyes. He wasn’t prepared for that.

“I love you, even if you kill me.” Blue didn’t bother to block, just hyperventilating as Red’s giant face creeped closer and closer. Red’s breath puffed into his face before he stopped, Blue kicking at the dirt to get as close to the tree as possible, finally turning his head and closing his eyes. Then he felt a lick across his skull.

Blue finally took in Red’s beastly body. It looked relaxed, casual. It dropped it’s head in Blue’s lap. It’s throat let out a low gravelly hum, eyes looking up at Blue’s face.

Blue hesitantly laid a hand on Red’s blaster skull, gently running a hand over all the scars that had elongated during the transformation. Red finished curling around him, his purring shaking Blue’s legs in little clattering sounds. Blue’s body almost crumpled as the fear left him. The adrenaline from his almost death, to thinking his boyfriend would eat him, to having a lap beast really took it out of a guy.

“So, are you in control or is it just the fact I’m your boyfriend?” 

Red eyes stared up at him, then tapped his tail on Blue’s face, sliding up his chin, a move Red did often with his hands when he had them.

“All you then.” Blue kissed Red’s nose. “Thanks for not eating me. No one would have suspected a thing.” He chuckled, Red huffing something similar to a laugh. Another lick, to his arm this time. “Gross!” Blue laughed though, dropping his arm in the snow.

Red picked up his head, facing into the woods. 

“What?” Blue stood up again when Red crouched down, moving into a pouncing position. Blue stood behind the curl of Red’s body. He peered into the darkness, snowy shadows as far as the eye could see, until he heard the crunch of snow.

“Red!” Blue fell on Red’s back when he whipped back. He clutched onto his hoodie, holding on for dear life while Red swiped at the intruders. Blue went to slide off, stopping at the sound from the trees.

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

Why was something that big living here? A giant wolf rabbit hybrid stepped out the trees, all long sharp teeth and claws, but unusually fast. And it was looking straight at them.

Red growled and rolled his haunches. Blue laid forward on his back, securing himself quickly.

“Ready.”

Blue hend on tightly as Red skirted its legs. He snapped and bit at the thighs, earning a solid side swipe for the damage. Red barely managed to stop his body from crushing Blue. He sent a few sharp bones towards the eyes. The beast screeched.

It clawed at its face. It backed up into more claws, Red attacking wherever it left open, until it finally started to retreat. They needed to follow; if it went to the town square, it’d dust someone. Red bounded after it, hot on its heels until, in its pain and confusion, walked straight off a cliff.

“Oh no!” Blue clutched onto the Red for dear life.

Red managed to catch his claws in the monster, riding it down the steep snowy hill. He jumped off just before it hit the ground.

They tumbled off to the side, followed by a wave of dust.

Blue coughed, finally releasing his hold, fingers aching from how hard he’d forced them to hold on. When he finally stood up from the snow, he took a good look around.

They’d fallen off the edge of Snowdin. Steep rock faces stood between them and civilization. He looked over at Red, who’d made himself at home under a tree, unable to do much on his own. The red eyes followed Blue as he walked around the clearing they found themselves in, looking around for a climbable wall from here.

Nothing. Not a single way out, well, not for Blue. What did he have to work with?

“I can’t shortcut. I need you to get us out of this. You can’t change back until you’re out of magic.” Blue stated the facts, Red rolling his giant eyes, waiting for Blue to get to the point. “You can’t do direct magic in that form like the rest of us, I’m guessing.”

Red gave him an unimpressed look from where he curled underneath the tree.

“So we have to run you out of magic, preferably quickly, before the feral beasts of the forest go eat the town.”

Blue paced around.  What would burn a lot of magic unintentionally?

Well, he knew one thing. But...they were outside, and Red was...a gaster beast…

But they also didn’t have enormous amounts of time. A day would make a huge difference in how their siblings fared against the threat. And it could be worse, it could be not his boyfriend he was stuck with.

Blue’s face got real bright, but he did lift his shaking nervous hands to his neckerchief. Red’s head looked over. He started to his feet when Blue dropped the blue cloth in the snow, dropping off his gloves. Blue pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it off to the side. Red’s snout bumped against his chest after he kicked off the boots.

“Don’t make me explain…”Blue got to his pants, stopping and rubbing over Red’s nose. “Though I guess I’d have to help you undress too.” 

Red backed up, sitting on his hind legs, tilting his head to try and tell Blue he didn’t get it, but Blue just dropped his pants, avoiding eye contact, folding the clothes and putting them to the side. Red growled when Blue went to get his pants off. They got cold much slower than most monsters, but that didn’t mean Red wanted to have a cold ass if he could help it.

“Red, I really need you to let me take off your pants.”

Red grumbled in complaint, but let Blue do as he pleased. He didn’t sit after they were off. Blue folded them too. He didn’t want them to be ruined, they’d need them when Red shortcut them out of this mess.

“You do know what I’m trying to do, right?”

Red shook his massive head. Blue looked away shyly.

“I know we’ve never purposely burned magic this way, but usually you think of this kind of thing before me.” Blue hesitantly dropped his boxers, still not meeting Red’s face. “If you don’t get it by now, I’m not convinced you’re actually Red at all-ahhhhhh.” He felt a wet tongue across his sternum.

Red was nosing all up on him now. 

“That’s more like you. Hah, mweeeeeeeh.” Red’s tongue was longer like this, going from licking at his chest to licking inside his ribcage and pelvis. It was haphazard. Red had very little control, unable to do much more than stimulate broadly. 

Blue took a peek over at Red’s body. No ecto yet.

“I really hope this works, or you’ll never let me live this down.” Blue got down on his knees. He ran his fingers over the front of his pelvis, catching all the bumps and curves. Red kept nuzzling and licking, careful to not disturb Blue’s arm.

“What would you say to me right now?” Blue closed his eyes. It was hard to get in the mood, naked in the snow and nervous, so he had to work himself up. Red was always so confident in the bedroom. Blue was confident everywhere else.

“Look at you working yourself up for me.” He could almost hear Red whispering it in his ear. “Gunna summon me something tasty?”

Blue panted as his fingers worked his sensitive pelvic crests, other hand working his tailbone at the same time. He moaned and opened his eyes. Red’s ectobody had finally appeared, sporting a longer and thicker member than he was used to. Blue blushed hard at the thoughts of what was to come. His own ectobody summoned under his hands, but Red’s head pushed him.

Blue fell onto his hands and knees, Red’s thick tongue working its way into him immediately.

“Reeeeeed! AAAAAAAH, so forceful mmmmmmm.” Blue wiggled his hips in time with the sloppy licks Red ate him out with. He usually covered his mouth when he got this loud, but there was no one but the forest to hear him.

“J-just gotta have you every w-way I can sweetheart. Come on my t-t-tongue?” Blue stuttered out what he thought his boyfriend would say. Red rumbled approvingly.

Blue reached a hand between his legs, and with a few skilled strokes, he whined out a release.

Red’s tongue didn’t leave him though. Blue huffed through the overstimulation until Red was satisfied, snout finally backing up from Blue’s shaky thighs. Blue only relaxed for as long as it took Red to line up with his thoroughly prepped magic. 

“Red…”He felt a giant claw near his body move a little closer in acknowledgement. “The whole point of this is to burn as much magic as possible so…” Blue moved onto his elbows, pressing himself just slightly back on the tip. Blue hummed with Red’s growl, feeling Red’s body position itself for the storm to come.

“Don’t stop until you can’t go anymore.” 

That first slide shook Blue to the marrow. Even as wet and stretched as he was, it was girthier than a tongue and feeling Red’s whole body move with the motion rocked Blue’s smaller body. Red’s control could snap right in the middle of this, but hopefully he’d be having enough fun to not kill the source of said fun.

“MMMMMMMM.” Red’s thrust slammed into the back of his pussy, Blue’s position the only thing keeping him in place. 

Red’s pace gradually picked up, Blue focusing on the rhythm of it, gradually building up to rocking back at the right points to feel the limits of his body stretch deeper. His moans got louder and louder. The imaginary voice in his head supplied Red’s commentary.

“That’s it baby! Let me hear how much you enjoy hav-Ahhhh-having me in your p-pussy!” His boyfriend had a filthy mouth, but Blue had let him do a lot with that mouth of his, and now Blue needed to hear him, it just wasn’t the same without his deep gravelly voice leading him through. Blue’s knees dug deeper into the snow. “Such a tight c-c-c-” -Blue had to fight to say it- “cunt you’ve made for me.”

Red’s growls shook his body. Red started pounding into him so fast, Blue screamed for it, body on fire and pushed over the edge. Once he felt the shudder of Red’s cock inside him, he stroked himself once and was gone. 

Blue spasmed and moaned, riding the wave. Red briefly pulled out, letting out the excess magic Blue had inside his little body. 

He almost stopped shaking before the tongue was in him again.

“R-r-r-red…”Blue whined desperately. His overstimulated body protested but couldn’t stop his oversized boyfriend. The tongue cleaned him out completely, before he felt Red gearing up to mount him again.

“AHHHHHH!” Red filled him in one go, already stretched open and wet.

Blue’s nerve endings burned, pleasure singed with discomfort in every bone in his body. Red kept pushing in and out, desperately taking Blue’s magic for all it could physically take. And as overwhelmed as he felt, Blue had been the one to tell Red not to stop until Red physically couldn’t continue. 

Red was filling him again. His body stretched and ached, Blue squeaking out a happy sigh when Red pulled out after a few minutes of slow fucking through the pleasure.

And then the damn tongue again.

Blue’s eyes pricked with tears. He’d never been so physically pushed to his mental limit. His vision felt fuzzy, and he felt like if he moved from this spot, he’d pass out. His traitorous mouth let out moans while he cried out his feelings. There was that cock again.

Everything blurred together. Thrusting and licking, alternating for what could’ve been days but was definitely at least a few hours, nothing but overstimulation and being completely helpless to stop it. His mind had left him quite a few cycles ago, in a haze while his body took and took and took. Somewhere deep inside him, something broke, and when he felt that sinfully long tongue again, he leaned his hips back into it.

“God Red, get it all the way inside me!” He felt deranged, sounded worse. His mind had given up on stopping it, deciding to ride the wave, no, tsunami as it engulfed him as best it could.

The tongue responded vigorously. Red’s snout dug into the cheeks of his ectobody, Blue drooling messily as his head laid in his arms above the snow. Blue keened at it twisting and turning against his sensitive walls.

“More, more, more! Ruin my body, don’t stop until you can’t go anymore.”

Red didn’t do a gentle first thrust, immediately pounding into Blue’s body while he cried out for more. Blue’s soul was on fire. Every sensation in his whole body, every thought, was converging on a single moment, and when Red hit that brutal speed crescendo right before his release, Blue touched his over sensitive pussy.

“FUCK!” All of senses exploded, his mind slipped briefly into a serene peace, the eye of the storm, and with one ultimate burst of pleasure, his mind and body blipped off.

----

“I’m surprised he got this exhausted without transforming.” Blue’s mind came to slowly, fluttering awake to a familiar ceiling. This was his room. His entire body ached, bringing back the memory of what put him into this state to begin with.

“Me too. He scared the hell outta me.” That was Red’s voice. Blue’s hand reached out for it without thinking. He felt Red’s hand take his instantly. “Blue?”

“I think so.” Blue chuckled, then coughed. Everything hurt.

“Thank goodness. We were worried sick.” He could hear his brother, but opening his eyes again seemed like a hassle. “Red and you vanished, but Red got you both back after a day. He’d been keeping you safe in the forest while you were unconscious.” So that’s what they were going with.

“Sorry for missing out on the fighting.” Blue hummed at Red gently rubbing his hand.

“Red came back just in time honestly. With his help, we got everything under control at the last moment. It all worked out.” His bro pat his head, but Blue winced. It still ached. “Sorry.”

“It’s all good Papy. I’ll be okay with a bit more rest. I’ll take a page from you and Red and be a lazybones for a while.” 

“Good.” Swap stood up, cracking his back. “Now that you’ve woken up at least once, I can go back to business. I’ll leave you with Red until you go back to sleep.” He smiled at Blue. “Don’t push it. Go back to bed. Love ya bro.”

“Love you too Papy.” Swap walked out, and Red let out a breath Blue hadn’t noticed he was holding.

“Why were you so nervous?” Blue smiled at him fondly. Red blushed for once.

“Blue, you were out for two days. I thought I put you in a coma, I at the very least hurt you pretty badly.” Red hunched in on himself. “So much for self control.” Blue squeezed the hand that held his.

“I didn’t exactly help. Not to mention, that’s never happened to anyone else, so now we know what’ll happen.” Blue gently tugged Red’s arm, scooting back a little. Red obliged his hurt boyfriend and climbed in.

“Doesn’t make it okay.” Red gently leaned their foreheads together. “Hurting you isn’t something I should ever do.” Blue clanked his mouth. The ache in his pelvis brought back memories to make him blush.

“I...liked it…”Blue averted his eyes, but they were so close that he could still see the look on Red’s face.

“You...liked it?” He looked confused, then surprised.

“Yeah.” Blue looked back at him, cheeks glowing. “I wouldn’t mind...doing that again...on purpose…”He could barely get the words out. His mind flashed to him begging for Red to have sex with him as a gaster beast, and he glowed brighter. Red laughed, eyes getting half lidded and his voice dropping down to that deep tone that set him off so much.

“Just gotta have you every way I can sweetheart.” Then he stuck out his tongue with a smirk, laughing while Blue buried his face right into Red’s jacket. Blue felt two arms pull him close. “You do a pretty good impression of me.”

“I hate you.” Blue pouted, not moving away from Red at all.

“Well I love you.” Red hummed into the little kiss he got in exchange.

#cherryberry #kinktober #undertail #overstimulation #story time

[irenadel]

i wanna talk books so I made a meme

@doorsclosingslowly here’s the answers to your questions :)

6. If you read in more than one language, is there a difference between the experience of reading in your native language(s) and reading in other languages?

Virginia Woolf has a great quote in A Room of One’s Own where she says that women writers need to develop their own “sentence” and that this can only be developed through creating a tradition of female writing. She says that while reading male writers is pleasurable, it isn’t useful for the female writer, that she can’t learn from the way men write. Their “sentence” isn’t suitable for female writing. I’m.... unsure of how much I agree with her on this but I find the theory useful for describing how I approach literature in Spanish vs English.

Especially in terms of language, not so much in regards to narrative or worldbuilding or even themes, I find Spanish to be pleasurable but not useful. I very rarely find myself reading something in Spanish and thinking “ooooh, I wish I could do that! I want to steal that! How did they come up with this?” The “sentence” for writing in Spanish isn’t one I recognize or want to imitate... except maybe for VERY few exceptions like Carlos Fuentes and Borges. Whereas I can spend a lot of time reading English un-selfconsciously and then suddenly be struck by a turn of phrase that I must somehow or other make my own. That almost never happens to me when reading Spanish.

9. Fiction or non-fiction or both? In what ratio? Where do you draw the line between the two?

Oh god, this is embarassing. Erm... fiction to a fault. On 2020 and 2019 I did try to make a concerted effort to read more nonfiction, ESPECIALLY more popular science books. I still kind of childishly consider myself to not be “smart like that” and that science isn’t for me, because I don’t understand it. I used to think science fiction wasn’t for me, for similar reasons. When I do read nonfiction it tends to be history and literary criticism.

I’m finishing my degree on English literature and though I had a period of hating hard on literary criticism, I think it was mostly me rebelling against the French brand of it. I HAVE to admit I love reading new historicism, especially now that I’m working on my dissertation and I had to read a lot on Elizabethan and Jacobean theatre.

Hopefully 2021 will be the year I read a bit more science.

11. The worst book hangover you’ve ever had

Augh... I remember two in recent years. Let me see... in 2017 I finished the last book in the Realm of the Elderlings. I had read the first book in the series around maybe the mid 2000s. I devoured it in a single weekend, still hungry for more of the story. I did not have access to the rest of the trilogy for a couple of years after, but as soon as I got them I read them as fast as I could. I remember reading those books during class, pretending to pay attention to a lecture on Linguistics but actually fully engrossed in Robin Hobb’s world.

It’s a world that was with me for more than 10 years. Characters that I knew intimately from multiple re-readings for more than 10 years. My dissertationg is about the first trilogy for crying out loud! I hadn’t wanted to read the last trilogy and the last book on the trilogy because I didn’t want that connection to end. But finally I gave in...

It was a book hangover because I was reading late at night when I realized, halfway through the book, a character I loved deeply was probably going to die and I just HAD to know, I HAD to be sure. So I read through the night going from disbelief to anger, to grief, to grim acceptance. I wasn’t able to put down the book until 11 am the next day, by which point I was openly sobbing and would have thrown the book across the room except I think I was reading in my computer.

The second book hangover I remember was less because of sprinting through the book and more because of the circumstances. Last December I had decided to finish as many books I could in hopes of reaching my Good Reads goal (which I didn’’t) and I was going through His Dark Materials pretty quickly when on the 25th I got the news that my grandmother died. I wasn’t able to go see her at the hospital or at a funeral, or even go see my dad and uncles because she had died of covid-19 and the situation was still pretty dire in the city.

Then Philip Pullman decided to be an absolute asshole to me and the characters in his book arrived to the Land of the Dead. Being an atheist fantasy series and me having just recently come to terms with the fact that I’m not even agnostic... it was very tough to go through Pullman’s exploration of mortality and the importance of life on Earth. I agreed completely that materiality and the here-and-now far outweigh any contemplations of an afterlife... but my grandmother had died very suddenly.... she had still been a pretty strong old lady before she contracted covid... I had spoken to her a couple of days before and she was still strong enough to bitch about litter getting inside her room...

I finished The Amber Spyglass in a rush as well and somehow it got mixed with my mourning process and my anger at myself for having taken my grandmother’s life for granted... for not having cherished the materiality of her existence when I had the chance... I hadn’t finished writing my dissertation’s first draft yet and there were some heavy issues going on in my household.... I was exhausted from having to survive the year and I think I still am... and it all mixed up with the bittersweet ending of Pullman’s His Dark Materials and the inevitability of loss... all I remember from between the 25th and the 31st of December 2020 was exhaustedly reheating Christmas food, trying to write, and slogging through The Amber Spyglass... it feels like it was a week-long literary hangover...

14. The book that, in hindsight, really should have clued you in to the fact that you’re _________ (queer/in love/doomed to be an academic/etc)

So this is slightly NSFW but I should have known, and stopped being such a snob about it, that I had WAY MORE in common with the furries than I cared to admit given that my first impression of Smaug the Golden when reading The Hobbit at the tender age of 8 was “wow! he’s dreamy!” *facepalm *(also betraying a worrying tendency to crushing on irredeemable assholes and other miscellaneous villains...) I have accepted my status as a weird monsterfucker AND a weird alienfucker. Inhuman anatomy makes me hot, and I should have known it from DAY ONE!

23. The book you expected to hate, didn’t, and then got angry about not hating

The Hunger Games, which I’m STILL salty about and will probably remain salty about for the rest of my life.

I hateread it because a friend told me about how he hated it, given his bitter ex loved it and though I agree with all his criticisms and have a bunch of my own... I still cannot stop finding stupid Katniss profoundly likeable! CURSES! A pox upon your house Suzanne Collins! I still think your dystopia is a cowardly, white-lady-who-has-never-feared-state-violence dystopia, I still think your love triangle was absolutely unnecessary and I still think you tried to cop out of admitting you (and your character) like pretty dresses by making the pretty dresses compulsory. Be brave! Don’t give me this “I’m not like other girls” bullshit! Be brave! Make your violent spectacle reality show as a criticism of the USA’s consumerism and callousness a voluntary thing! Don’t wash your heroine’s hands clean of the sin of wanting fame and fortune and survival at all costs!

But... fuck... I... still like Katniss... I’m glad little girls in 2008 got a heroine who kicked ass, looked good and wasn’t a perfectly strong and powerful person all the time. I’m glad they got competence and vulnerability... Fuck my life...

31. Bonus question: rec me something!

This is hard... since I get the feeling we have very different tastes in reading material but... If you haven’t heard of the Vampire: The Masquerade roleplaying game (or even if you have) take a crack at the Baali Clanbook. Even if you don’t understand the game mechanics I think you’ll enjoy the history portion because it’s about a clan of devil-worshipping vampires who do their devil worshipping through implanting evil insects on people... and I suspect it might be up your alley...

#book meme #doorsclosingslowly

[vesuviannights]

Smutty Prompt List: The “Anything Goes” Edition

So I wrote a prompt list!! And while doing so discovered that I cannot be tamed and really, anything does go.

Please feel free to use this for your own blog and absolutely any fandom you wish! 

General Fuckery

1. “You say you’re the best lay in all of the city? Prove it.”

2. “A dare is a dare, and I what I dare is for you to is to kiss me in front of all these people. Let them finally see who you love.”

3. “Yes baby, that’s it—oh you’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you. Can you do it again for me?”

4. “I bet you a month’s worth of orgasms I can make them come from sucking their nipples alone.”

5. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

6. “Wake up, my love. It’s been too many hours since I’ve heard all your pretty noises.”

7. “God, I could watch you fuck yourself on that dildo for hours.”

A hint of D/s, or a lot of it

8. “Won’t you part your pretty little thighs so I can taste what is mine?”

9. “Oh pet, you’ll hate me when I’m through with you.”

10. “Press yourself right up against the glass. I want everyone to see you.”

11. “How about this – I’ll let you come if you’re loud enough for them to find you screaming around my cock.”

12. “Oh pet, don’t cry. I promise I’ll let you come soon.”

13. “Spread your legs for me, baby. Yes, that’s it – now touch yourself, I want to fuck yourself with your fingers like you want me to fuck you with my cock.”

14. “Why should I even let you come? I should leave you here squirming and panting like the desperate whore you are.”

15. “If only you could see yourself now – jaw slack, chest heaving, come dribbling out of your mouth. I almost wish I’d fucked you in public so everyone else could see.”

16. “You look so good like this, baby. Every inch of you bound to the table, writhing against the vibrator. But you know what happens if you come without permission, right?”

17. “I want you to ride my thigh until you’re a whimpering fucking mess, and if you come, then I’ll punish you for it.”

18. “Stand up for me, kitten. I want to watch as our come drips down your thighs.”

19. “I’m going to kiss every inch of you, from toe to top, and if you move or make any noise, I’m going to start all over again, and you won’t be allowed to come until I’m done. Understood?”

20. “That’s it, pet. Grind yourself against my thigh—no no, don’t cover your mouth. We want them to hear, don’t we? We want them to see how much fun you’re having, being my good little whore.”

21. “Did you not hear me the first time I told you to present yourself?”

22. “I so very love the way you blush when you dirty talk. Why don’t you give me a demonstration right now? No no, pet – I want everyone to hear.”

23. “P-please. Please, I want to come, properly this time. Please make your good boy/girl come?”

24. “Come over here. No, don’t stand – crawl.”

25. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked for this.”

26. “Oh, look at the mess you’ve made of yourself, coming in your pants. Should I punish you?”

27. “P-please, please fuck me, I need all of my holes filled—I need another cock, please!”

28. “Perhaps you need to be taught that good boys/girls are seen and not heard. Spread your legs for me.”

29. “Look at you—it’s all over your thighs, dripping out of your hole. Maybe I should make you walk around like this for the rest of the day just so everyone sees how messy you really are?”

30. “Don’t look at them, look at me–I’ll fuck them once they’ve proven that they’re a good pet. Only good pets like you get my cock.”

31. “Please, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, just let me taste your pussy. Please?”

32. “NO! No, please, I want to come, I want to come!”

33. “Oh but pet, I thought this is what you wanted? Weren’t you begging me just yesterday with tears in your pretty little eyes? To come, to scream, to be allowed to move against my cock while you warmed it?”

34. “P-please, please, I can’t do it—I can’t come anymore, please s-stop.”

35. “I’m going to fuck them in front of you, and you’re going to sit there like a good little pet and not make a single fucking noise. Understood?”

Poly-Specific

36. “It’s humiliating, isn’t it? Seeing someone else please your lover in a way you never can, watching them get fucked and scream out another’s name. Don’t worry – they’re in good hands.”

37. “What’s that? You want me to fuck you while they watch? Because that’s sure as hell what your horny little whines are telling me.”

38. “Will you bark for us, puppy? Show us what a good little pet you can be.”

39. “______, sit on their face. That should shut them up.”

40. “I want you to walk right over there, drop to your knees and start sucking his cock. And no, you can’t wait for his guests to leave.”

41. “Spread yourself for us, pet. Let us see that glorious hole.”

42. “You look so wonderful, tied up with your cock/pussy on display like that. Are you ready for me to let our guests in?”

43. “Go on. Fuck your own hand like the desperate little thing you are, make a show of it for us—don’t you want the attention? Ah ah—leave the cockring on.”

44. “You’re doing so well, pet, letting all of these people come in and touch you, taste you, fuck you – and you haven’t even come once. Would you like me to take the blindfold off so you can see who is next?”

45. “I want you to deepthroat my fingers, suckle them until every drop of his come is off them. Then you can clean his cock up, and then mine, and once you’re done, maybe then I’ll let you come.”

46. “Look at you, all tied up for me like a present. Who left you hear for me, hmmm? Because I would very much like to invite them back so we can unwrap you together.”

Rough and Rowdy

47. “Get off me. I’m done with you. Make sure no one sees you on the way out.”

48. “God, you’re like a bitch in heat. Do you even realise how desperate you look, riding my thigh like that?”

49. “Ssshhh, kitten. I’m not even half way in. Be a good pet and shut the fuck up.”

50. “You know I love you, right? Because I’m going to fuck you like I never have.”

51. “You should be glad I’d ever let you anywhere near my cock/pussy/ass.”

52. “Why would I ever want to fuck you a second time?”

53. “You can hate me all you want, but you can’t deny how good I make you feel.”

54. “You’re coming again? Of course you are. How could you not be? One fucking touch from me is all it takes to get you sobbing, you’re so desperate.”

55. “Come here, daddy wants you to choke on his dick until you pass out.”

56. “Your thighs look so pretty with all of my scratches on them, your blood dripping down onto my sheets.”

57. “Pretend you don’t want it. Scream for me while I fuck you. Beg for me to stop.”

58. “Stop being a brat and start choking on my cock. Or are you too ‘precious’ to do even that?”

59. “Grind against my shoe if you’re so desperate. Go on. I’m sure as hell not getting you off now.”

A Little Angsty

60. “Stay the night. Please.”

61. “Just…once. Please. I just need to taste you once.”

62. “One last time. Please. I—I need one last touch.”

63. “I heard you last night, when you were fucking yourself in your sleep. You called my name. Moaned it.”

64. “This can’t be the last time—please, please, I need you!”

65. “I’m going to fuck them out of you. I’m going to make you scream my name so hard that you’ll never think of them again.”

66. “Ssshh, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m going to fix everything.”

67. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—forgive me, forgive me.”

68. “Did he fuck you while I was gone? I can smell him all over you.”

69. “I-I thought they loved me. But now they’re gone, they left me and it hurts. Please—I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

70. “It was always you.”

71. “Ah—ah! Oh god you feel so good, so good, fuck, fuck—marry me!”

72. “Of course I held on. I wasn’t going to let death take me without tasting you at least once.”

Assorted Kinks

73. “Give me your hand. Can you feel that? How swollen your belly is from all of my come?”

74. “Look down – can you see your tight little hole stretched around my huge cock? Can you see it bulging in your belly?”

75. “Do you like being filled over and over with come, my pet? Can you feel it stretching you, swelling you? I’m going to fuck you again, let’s see if you can be a good little pet and keep it all inside of you.”

76. “I’m so full, I can feel your come swelling me, there’s so much of it.”

77. “I’m going to count to 10, my love, and then you’re going to run. And the moment I catch you, I’m going to pin you to the ground and fucking destroy you.” 

78. “I’m going to tie you to the bed and leave you here, so I can come back and fuck you and fill you with my come whenever I want. And don’t pretend you don’t want it – I can smell your greedy little cunt from all the way over here.”

79. “Can you feel that, pet? It’s my favourite little blade running up your quivering stomach. Are you scared?”

80. “Which plug should we use this morning? The onyx jewel – the sapphire? Or perhaps the fox tail, so everyone can see it peeking out of your clothes as you walk.”

81. “Ohh, I know it hurts, pet. But you asked to be stuffed with such a huge toy, and you asked to cockwarm it. What kind of a master would I be if I didn’t say yes?”

82. “Would you like the white or the red collar today, puppy? I think it’s a good day for a walk.”

83. “YES, YES! Mark me, claim me as your prize, I’m yours, only yours!”

84. “Do you like how cold/warm my fingers are in your tight little hole, pet? I did it just for you.”

The Monsterfuckers

85. “Let’s seal our deal, my sweet magician. Oh, no no – not with paper.”

86. “Sshhhh, don’t cry. I’ll make it feel good, so good. You won’t ever want a human cock ever again, only ever mine.”

87. “Would you like me to bite you when you come? I know how much you like it when I do, and your blood tastes so good when you’re screaming around my cock.”

88. “Look at these talons - do they scare you? Do they make your human knees quiver? They should. Because I’m going to hold you down with them while I fuck you, and when I’m done, everyone will see the marks I have left on you.”

89. “Are you ready to take my knot? Are you ready to be so full of my seed that your stomach will swell?”

90. “How very careless of you to wander into the realm of the fae. I would help you escape, but…I’ve always wanted a little human fucktoy to call my own.”

91. “You want power? Control? All the magic you can every want or need for? Get down on your knees. Show me exactly what it is about that glorious human mouth that makes you worthy of this deal.”

#The Arcana #smutty prompts #requesting #lemon ask #🐍 anon

[rayadraws]

Hello this is the shitty princess squad anon. AAASHSHDHHSHHDSHSJS THANK YOU SO MUCH AHSHDHAJSDDHSSH I LOVE YOU SJSHSUSHHSSHSSBAHAHSHSHSSH. Yeah Garou as Belle 'cause he is a monsterfucker is a work of galaxy brain. Nobody want to mess with that frying pan, nor its owner. And thank you so much for that Jasmine! Garou. You make him look good in her outfit.

Hehehe you’re VERY welcome and thank YOU for giving me lots of inspiration! In fact...

(2k, SG/GS, swearing otherwise no particular warnings)

”Y’alright?”

Genos looked up at the sky. Silently counted to ten.

He’d messed up - of course he had. Same as always.

”Heeey.”

The call was followed by a foot roughly prodding his side where he laid on his back, on the cracked asphalt. Monster was somewhere off to his left, very dead.

”I’m not carrying you home, get up.”

With a sigh, Genos finally pulled himself into a sitting position, looking down at his torn leg and his missing foot. It wasn’t a large injury in the grand scale of things - he’d certainly been through much worse, plenty of times - but the timing was exceptionally bad. If he’d lost an arm to that stupid sentient road sign he could have replaced it easily, he had several spare sets stuffed in his side of the closet, but a foot… he’d need Kuseno for that, and a visit to the lab would take hours, hours he didn’t have. Not today.

”Oi. People are starting to flock, now that that thing is dead,” Garou grumbled. Crowds of civilians were still… difficult for the former villain.

”Fine.”

Pushing himself to his remaining foot, Genos grabbed Garou by the shoulder for support, slowly limping back towards his and Sensei’s apartment.

-

”I’ll just have to cancel. That’s all there is to it.”

”Oh boo-hoo. I thought you didn’t even want to go, and now you’re doing the sad cyborg eyes at us?” Badd gave him a pointed look.

It was true - he initially hadn’t been especially pleased to receive the invitation from the HA. A donation drive in the form of a masquerade - as if most heroes weren’t already dressed in questionable outfits on a daily basis! Every S- and A-ranked hero had received an invitation, as well as the B- and C-ranks most beloved by the public. Saitama-sensei was not one of them. Not that it made a difference - each invitation included a ”plus one”, and after considering his options, Genos had naturally insisted that Sensei come with him. He could count it as date night, Genos had argued, one that included free food and entertainment. And as Saitama-sensei agreed to come, Genos found himself growing cautiously optimistic about the whole affair.

Badd, probably simply to be difficult, had invited Garou. The man was still viewed with great distrust by the HA and the public alike, but Genos supposed if he did manage to behave himself, being seen along high-ranked heroes might improve his reputation. And if he didn’t... well, it’d be amusing to watch the chaos go down.

Genos hadn’t been too concerned about the dressing up part. He’d planned on wearing his trusted bunny ears and tail paired with his suit, the one with the suspenders. What he really looked forward to was spending the evening with Saitama-sensei. Maybe they could even dance together…

Except now there’d be no dancing, or walking, or even standing up unaided.

”What’s the big deal? Just have your mans carry you around, I know you’d love that,” Garou snorted. Looking at him, Genos quietly wondered what he had planned to dress up as. Maybe he still had that faux wolf head stashed away somewhere…

”Yeah man, that’d be romantic as shit, right? It’d be just like Cinderella!”

”Cinderella lost her shoe, not her goddamn whole ass foot!” Garou countered, throwing a pillow in Badd’s general direction.

”Yeah, well, this is the cyborg version so there!”

Genos tuned out their bickering, looking down again at his torn leg. It had stopped sparking and it wasn’t painful, but it was damned inconvenient. He didn’t have anything to stick into it to make a temporary peg-leg, did he? Doctor Kuseno would certainly not approve of that kind of repair, but on the other hand, he did often tell Genos to try to get out more and do more fun things... He wasn’t even sure if this would even qualify as fun, but the doctor did also say that he’d try to catch the drive on TV and see if he could spot Genos, and yes, Saitama-sensei too of course, and… well...

He looked up with a start, broken from his train of thought as the door slammed from the end of the room.

”What’s happening? Where is Badd going?”

”To pick up your dress, Cinderella.”

”What?”

”I told him you weren’t listening even if you were nodding!”

-

”This was not made with cyborgs in mind.”

”Yeah, well, I don’t think any costumes are. Just… don’t make any sudden movements and you’ll be fine.”

Genos wasn’t wrong - the dress clearly was not made for someone of his size, nor his long legs. The skirt ended just below his knees rather than his ankles, and it strained dangerously tight over his chest. He’d put on the most slender arms he had at home and the elbow-length gloves did fit, but only very barely.

”Look at me, and hold still,” Badd continued, hairbrush in hand.

Mildly confused, Genos twisted on the chair so that he looked straight at him, then froze as Badd brushed his hair for him. With deft fingers, he tied a large bow - matching his baby blue dress - into his hair. He seemed so at ease - as if he’d done it a million times before. It wasn’t a skill set Genos would have expected S-rank hero Metal Bat to possess, but-

”Oh. You do your little sister’s hair.”

”Yuh,” Badd muttered through the bobby pins in his mouth. He put a couple into Genos’ hair to keep the bow in place, then stepped back to admire his handiwork.

”A beautiful princess,” Garou muttered from where he laid sprawled across the folded futons. ”Where’s your prince tho’?”

”Shut up,” Badd told him. “Go find a broom.”

”A broom?” Genos asked, carefully prodding the bow. He wasn’t accustomed to having something in his hair. Even though the bow weighed so little, he felt very aware of it.

”Don’t touch it!” Badd warned, then jutted his chin at Garou in a nod as thanks when he returned with the broom.

”Yeah, it’s your cane, Cinderella.”

”Oh.”

”Fits your character and all! We put thought into this!”

Carefully Genos took the broom into hand, standing up. It looked dumb. He looked dumb in an outfit so poorly fitting but… well, it’d have to do, he supposed.

The bag Badd had come back with didn’t look even half-empty yet and he leaned forward, trying to get a peek.

”What’s the rest?”

”Well, we decided we should all match n’ shit. That should rake in the donation money, right? They said we should divide ourselves into teams to fight over who gets the most donations, so we figured hey, team Princess!

Genos stared as Badd extracted two more dresses, one bright yellow and one in alternating pink and purple.

”Hell yeah! Time to be a monsterfucker princess!” Garou cried out happily.

-

”What’s your name supposed to be again?” Genos asked.

”Ra-pun-zel. Ugh, don’t you have a fancy computer brain to help you remember stuff?”

”No,” Genos huffed, feeling oddly vindicated as Garou thumped Badd on the back of his head and tsk-ed.

”Ow! Okay, so, I’m Rapunzel, Garou is Belle and you’re Cin- Deshiderella.

”Disciple-rella? Fine.”

”See, we’re all doing great.”

Genos was not accustomed to walking down the street in a dress, but despite limping along on one leg in a far too tight outfit, he seemed to be faring better than his companions.

”...the fuck you keep your balance in heels?!” Garou yelled as he once again near lost his balance on a bit of uneven asphalt.

”Just shut up and be grateful they had heels in your size!”

Their bickering continued the way it always did, sharp but well-meaning, until they finally reached their destination.

There was… a lot of people. And paparazzi. Of course.

Genos blinked as the cameras turned to the trio of princesses. Was he imagining things, or were they going off much more rapidly than when the previous group of heroes had passed through?

”Demon Cyborg! Metal Bat!”

”...the Hero Hunter..?”

”Such glamorous costumes!”

“You look precious! Absolutely precious!”

”Demon-sama, what happened to your foot?!”

”He’s Deshiderella now!” Badd yelled as he pulled the other two through the door.

-

Garou and Badd found Genos a chair that could actually hold his weight, mercifully placed him near one of the snack tables, then wandered off to do who knew what. Bother someone, probably.

Slowly chewing on a small sandwich, Genos contemplated how different the evening was turning out compared to how he’d originally planned it. He was supposed to have shown up looking his most dazzling, impressing Sensei not only with his looks but with the surroundings - the music, the people, the… everything. Who cared about donation drive competitions, that had never been what this was about, not for him anyway.

And now here he sat, in a too-short dress with a broom for a cane and no sensei at all. Where was he? Before they’d left, Badd had called Saitama as he was on his was back home, to tell him something - he wouldn’t tell Genos what. But he had promised him that Saitama would meet up with them at the party. But they’d already been here for 18, 19… almost 20 minutes now...

He was once more startled out of his thoughts as another chair was pulled up near his, together with a pleased ”Cyborg princess!”

”Fubuki.” He crossed his arms over his chest, fabric straining over armoured shoulders.

”You look wonderful. That shade of blue suits you. It is a little short, though.”

”We didn’t have time to shop around,” Genos replied, attempting to subtly pull the skirt down. He lifted his eyes to take in all the... sparkles. ”Your dress is very… shiny.”

”Mhm. Is the food any good?” As she asked, Fubuki had one of the little sandwiches float through the air to herself.

”It’s fine.”

”So, where’s your prince?”

”I… don’t know. I came with Metal Bat and Garou.”

”Ah, yes, last I heard they were bothering Amai Mask.”

Genos smiled faintly to himself.

”Which donation team is in the lead?”

”Ah,” Fubuki grinned at him. ”Well, ’Team Princess’ has made a strong impression it seems, but so has the little joint project Sweet Blizzard, despite not being as… coordinated as you three. It’s about evenly tied, right now, between the top A slash B ranked heroes and the three little nobles.”

”Four!” Badd happily corrected as he stepped up to them. His hair was a mess and he looked sweaty, but pleased. ”How’re doing?”

”Fine. Bored.”

”You won’t be for long,” Badd nodded towards the main entry, a ridiculously large set of double doors covered in (probably plastic) gold. There was still a steady stream of people dressed in all manners of costumes passing through, if gravitating towards sexy versions of Other Things. Genos wasn’t sure what he should be looking for, unless- oh.

As was often the case, it was the shiny bald head you noticed first. What was Saitama-sensei wearing… a crown? How did it stay on..?

The most powerful man in the world looked almost small as he carefully stepped into the grand room, easily lost in the crowd despite his brightly coloured outfit. Somehow, he’d managed to find clothes that broadly corresponded with his hero outfit - most of it was yellow, with white accents and if Genos wasn’t mistaken he’d attached his hero cape as well. The boots were different though, and the gloves, and there was a sash across his chest.

Despite the poofy shoulders and knees and loud colours, despite clearly not feeling at ease in this new outfit, Genos was certain he was looking at the most handsome prince in the world.

Prince Saitama.

He stood up, putting his hand on the armrest for support, ready to call out to Saitama-sensei when Badd pushed him back down into the chair.

”Let him come to you!” he growled, and Genos reluctantly obeyed.

It took him a moment, but then Sensei finally spotted Genos and his whole demeanour broke out into relief. He pushed himself through the crowd until he reached the waiting trio.

”Hi,” he waved.

”My lord,” Genos bowed his head from where he sat, noting how his prince blushed at the title.

”My… ’borg. Wanna dance?”

Genos pointed to his leg. ”I can-ah!”

As he spoke, he felt an invisible push, and suddenly he was standing, as if held up by a great pair of invisible hands. It was familiar, but it also wasn’t. How strange to think that different espers could have their own signature… feels. Fubuki was not Tatsumaki.

Gingerly, he took Prince Saitama’s outstretched hand into his own and walked oddly to the dance portion of the hall - he and Fubuki weren’t quite coordinated, so it was somewhat tricky to walk, but at least he could get around without the broom.

He felt Saitama’s other hand against his waist, enjoying the light squeeze he gave him. He looked even more wonderful, up this close.

”Er, Genos? I have no idea how to do this…” he muttered, beginning to sweat.

”Then, let me lead,” Genos smiled, adjusting their positions and hands accordingly. He leaned forward, whispering into the other man’s ear. ”Follow me, my prince.”

-

”I can’t believe we lost the donation drive challenge to, to them. To a cyborg on one leg, a ruffian and a villain. Not to even mention, Caped Baldy!” Amai Mask groaned, downing the rest of his drink. His cat ears had gone askew on his head, but he couldn’t be bothered to fix them. It was rare for him to be this chatty, especially with anyone in a class lower than himself, but that number of drinks would do that to you...

”Well,” Fubuki smiled back, taking a sip from her own. ”They did all coordinate their outfits, and they looked very cute… especially when the prince danced with his princess…”

”How did he even manage that, on one leg?!”

Fubuki smiled at him. ”I haven’t the faintest idea.”

#shitty teen squad #saigenos #genosai #deshiderella #ficlet #AHHH THIS WAS TUN TO WRITE #I'm imagining Garou-as-Belle just going wild running around in his dress

[whirlybirbs]

reports ; two.

                         PART ONE      |        WANT TO BE TAGGED?        |        KO-FI

summary: a truce is made, a clue is found, and eddie looks hot in a cleric collar. and then he sweats in the hot seat. rating: M for some murder stuff & eddie’s and venom’s dirty minds. word count: 2.5k pairing: reader/eddie&venom a/n: here some goods for the weekend, babes! enjoy some sexual tension & murder vibes. happy halloween, ya monsterfuckers.

“Sorry for the mess.”

Eddie watches as you fumble with your keys, lingering by the bottom of the steps to your apartment.

It’s nicer than his by a stretch, located in Midtown - the bricks are a deep wine color. It churns memories of Annie & Dan’s apartment. Eddie’s heart wines, and Venom wiggles across Eddie’s spine and he shivers at the thought of friends miles and miles away. It feels weird to be so alone; the disconnect is anything but grounding.

I MISS ANNE. AND MAYBE EVEN DAN. HE WASN’T SO BAD. MAYBE A LITTLE WEIRD, BUT NOT BAD. HE MADE GOOD LASAGNA.

Me too, buddy.

MMM, LASAGNA.

You sling your bag over your shoulder as you muscle the door open. Eddie follows up the two flights of stairs (the steps creak under his feet like his own place, and it makes him feel less like he’s stumbling into the lion’s den) before you nudge open the door to your apartment and shuffle inside.

It’s small - but, it’s so incredibly you. The room is all warm colors and dim lighting and relatively spotless, save for the growing stack of papers on the coffee table by the sofa. You settle into your usual routine -- you drop your keys in the bowl by the coat rack and kick your boots off unceremoniously before dumping your bag on the sofa and dragging yourself to the pantry.

Goldfish. And then you tug the fridge open. Eddie’s eyes are set fast on the way you smile in the glow of a 12 pack of Blue Moon.

“Beer?”

He’s about to reach out, to take it, when Venom rumbles alive.

NO, MAKES ME FEEL ICKY.

Alright, alright.

Eddie shakes his head, and then the bag of goldfish in your hands is shoved his way as you round the kitchen island, tossing your jacket over the back of the sofa and settling in. You crack your beer open swiftly, discarding the opener among the scattered papers.

Eddie blinks, fisting a handful of the Xtra Cheddar crackers into his mouth on autopilot. He’s staring -- mostly because those are… a lot of papers.

“You just gunna stand there?” you say through a mouthful.

Eddie chews, swallowing before commenting dryly, “You’ll try and rip my throat out if I sit next to you, so maybe, yeah, I’ll just stand.”

You snort through your nose, taking a graceful swig of your beer. “Try and pretend you’ve done hours of work on this story again and I just might.”

Rounding the island, Eddie kicks his boots off -- you’ve started to shift through papers, settling piles back in rightful order. Taking another handful, Eddie munches on his goldfish as he tosses his jacket over the barstool by the counter. His movements are slow, and you catch the flex of his arm as he shifts the bag of Goldfish around, tossing a few crackers back. He pads onto the rug, lingers for a moment, eyes scanning the papers.

His socks have jack-o-lanterns on them. You don’t say anything.

“You weren’t kidding when you said hours of work, huh?”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, “I like to do a good job -- gotta read up on the facts before I stand in-front of a camera and inform the public.”

OOF. THAT’S A BURN.

Eddie is quiet for a second, eyes fleeting from the paper stack to you -- you look less terrifying curled up on the sofa like that, and less like a crouching tiger ready to defend its turf.

You can feel his eyes on you.

So, you blink up at him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

YOU’RE NOT VERY GOOD AT LYING, YOU KNOW.

Oh, shut up.

“Clearly it’s something --” you start, brows knotted. He’s being stabbed by the daggers flying out of your eyes.

“I think m’just tyna figure out why you hate me so much, y’know?”

Another blink.

“I don’t hate you,” you start slowly. Eddie winces at your tone, and you continue, “I hate the fact you can waltz into that office upstairs and walk out with a job. I hate that I’ve busted my ass for years, worked shit story after shit story -- I threw myself into a warzone and finally got enough recognition that I didn’t have to work throw away pieces. And here you are.”

You’re facing him now, beer clutched in white knuckles.

“So, if you wanna throw yourself around -- meh, I’m San Fran’s own Eddie Brock, look at me, meh! -- and steal my stories, then fine. But, I’m not letting you get past the fact it’s all about fucking privilege. You’re some pretty white boy with nothing but a shit attitude. So yeah, I’m not happy this is our story now.”

Your finger prods his chest and Venom rumbles in anger at the contact.

THAT? THAT’S RUDE.

The silence is stifling, enough that Eddie has to heave a sigh -- until he speaks quietly, with a bit of a gentle smirk.

“But, I’m a pretty white boy, huh?”

You gawk, head spinning. The comment is a slap in the face, a humorous reality check, and you launch yourself at Eddie, slapping his arm roughly with the balled up reports in your hand. The action feels childish, but well warranted.

“You’re ridiculous!” you yell, “Seriously? That’s all you got out of that?!”

Eddie is laughing, though, recoiling at the strikes -- the laugh is enough to crack your stern facade; you smother a laugh as you shift away from him, straightening out your papers. His smile is crooked but it’s handsome, and you find yourself watching the way his dimples dig into his cheeks.

SHE IS STARING, KEEP SMILING. IT ALWAYS GETS THE LADIES.

She’s mad, okay? Just… This isn’t a thing, stop tryna make it a thing, buddy.

SHE’D MAKE A GOOD SNACK.

You’re telling me.

YOU AGREE? THEN WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?! … OH. OH, YOU WERE NOT SPEAKING ABOUT ACTUAL FOOD, WERE YOU?

Nope.

The room settles back into silence again, but this time it’s not so heavy. After you take another sip of your beer, Eddie speaks.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally, “Really -- for just… walking all over you an’ your work. You’re good at what you do, y’know? And I have no right to demean y’ hard work by shoving it under the rug. I shouldn’t have done that.”

An apology was the last thing you were expecting. You choke a little on your beer.

“And -- And, seriously -- all of this?” his hands, calloused and covered in cheddar dust, gesture to the table, “This is a lotta work and you got every right to wanna fuckin’ punch me in the mouth for stealing your story.”

You cough, muscling the rest of the drink down your throat.

“No, I mean -- It’s… I get it,” you’re flustered now, impressed by his sudden softening of personality, “Gotta pay the bills.”

“And now we’re in it together, I guess.”

“Right. Together.”

“Beauty & the Beast Reports,” Eddie rattles off, “That could be a good segment name?”

You smother a laugh, reaching over his arms to grab some goldfish. “Who’s the beast?”

“Me, of course,” Eddie rumbles, “You seen this mug?”

“Sadly.”

“Oof,” he laughs, “Rude.”

“No,” you grin, “Just honest.”

You both munch in silence, eyes set on the papers before you.

“So…”

“Truce?”

You blink down, eyeing Eddie’s hand.

And then you smile.

And Eddie’s heart nearly stops.

“Truce.”

And that’s the moment Venom knew he liked the feel of you.

“So what do we know?” Eddie says, feet on the coffee table, take-out order in his lap.

It’s late into the night now, well past one in the morning, and Eddie had called in for his usual order of lo mein, pan fried dumplings and beef fried rice. This time around, the slurping doesn’t bother you nearly as much -- and he offers the box and chopsticks eagerly, leaning over you to grab your notepad, spurring you on.

SHARE WITH HER, YOU IDIOT. FOOD OFFERINGS ARE SEEN ACROSS SPECIES AS VALID ATTEMPTS AT SEDUCTION.

“Lay it out for me,” Eddie says with a full mouth, “Gimme the whole run.”

You stand, moving to gather your papers. You shovel lo mein into your mouth. Venom nearly purrs.

“Alright.”

“Mhm.”

“We have the first victim, pulled from the Central Park pond on the fifth,” you start, chewing, “A white male, late 40s, later ID’d as Charles McAlister -- a catholic priest from the Lower Eastside of Manhattan. His body was found dismembered. Police found his head after dredging the pond. In his mouth, police found a pair of women’s underwear.”

“Number two?”

“Found on five days later, despite heavy police presence in the area. Again, another white male, this time 30 year old, James Smithson -- another father of the Parish of the Holy Spirit. His body was found in one piece, however suffered a severe and fatal number of stab wounds. Police reports indicate more than one attacker.”

“So our commonalities? White, 30 to 40 years old, religious affiliation,” Eddie scribbles, eyes darting back up to you.

“The third just cements it,” you wave your hands, “Again, another priest -- Jamie Weston. Caucasian, 32 years old, Catholic. Again, another ritualistic, easy-to-sensationalize, murder. Burnt to death with use of accelerant.”

“And live-streamed.”

HUMANS MURDERING FOR SPORT SEEMS OUT OF CHARACTER.

Not as much as you’d think.

BAD HUMANS?

Very bad.

“The site that we pulled up only had the last murder broadcasted,” you mutter, “There’s a chance that the others were streamed as well, but the site history was wiped. The only thing up is Weston’s murder and the bidding on the impending stream.”

“And the police?”

USELESS.

“They looked at me like I had three heads,” you say, “Until I showed them the actual snuff.”

KNEW IT. THEY’RE INTIMIDATED, NO DOUBT. SHE IS VERY SMART. TELL HER SHE IS SMART.

Eddie heaves a sigh. “Fuckin’ disgusting.”

THAT IS NOT WHAT I SAID TO SAY, EDDIE.

“Yeah.”

“... How much do you know about that kinda stuff?” Eddie asks after a minute, pointer finger pressed to his lip as he thinks, “Like… as far as tracking goes?”

“If you’re thinking about back-tracking the post, that’s nearly impossible,” you start, collapsing onto the couch beside him and opening your laptop, “The dark and deep web are completely anonymous, and it’s recommended you use a VPN when browsing, anyways. I’m sure if you’re posting this shit, there’s even more loopholes you throw yourself through to stay anonymous.”

“And the video?”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Eddie swallows. “If we go frame by frame, there has to be something.”

And so that’s how you ended up falling asleep, snoring softly into Eddie’s shoulder as he skimmed through the video over and over. Your arm is wound around his own, blanket pulled up to your chin. You’re comfortable, and the symbiote winding its way from Eddie’s shoulder has made sure of it.

YOU ARE INTERESTED IN HER, he’d chirped, AS AM I.

Venom is content with it, inky tendrils fleeting out moment to moment to wind into your hair -- Eddie steals a look at his other half, eyes narrowed.

“Watch it.”

“JUST LOOKING.”

“Hands off, buddy,” Eddie mutters into the take-out, “She’s a co-worker.”

“LIKE THAT WILL STOP YOU.”

And then, Eddie sees it.

A flash of a wrist -- on it, an ornate watch. It’s gold, glittering in the light of the match, and on that hand is a class ring.

Regis High School. Class of ‘75.

Eddie’s hand shakes your knee under the blanket gently.

When you stir, bleary eyes blink up at him. His beard skims your cheek as you shift, moving to wipe your eyes. You blink around, swearing you’d seen something over your shoulder before exhaling -- Eddie offers a soft apology.

“Sorry, Sleeping Beauty,” he mutters, “But we found our lead.”

“I look like a fuckin’ idiot.”

He doesn’t.

In fact, the look of Eddie in an all black ensemble, muscling a clerical collar into his dress shirt? It stirs a fever in your gut and you have to shift in your spot in the driver’s seat to ignore it.

SHE DOESN’T THINK SO.

Can you stop?

JUST SAYING, HER HORMONES ARE SPIKED, I CAN SMELL IT. MUST BE THE BLACK.

I don’t think it’s the black, Venom.

Eddie flips down the passenger side mirror roughly, adjusting the collar and skimming his hands over his jaw. He feels out of character, missing his usual bracelets and trainers -- instead, he’s clean cut. Black slacks and a dress shirt that’s maybe a little too tight, but you weren’t complaining.

“Eddie, you look fine. Now, take me through the plan again,” you say, moving to shove his hands from his combed and parted hair, “Gimme the entire run.”

“My name is Richard Johnson, I’m a priest from the Parish of Mother Mary in Midtown -- I’m looking to do some archival work on the history of Regis and was wondering if I could access your school yearbooks. Maintaining the history of local Catholic educational institution is an important mission to me.”

You give him a thumbs up.

“Perfect,” you nudge his arm, “Go get ‘em, champ.”

He moves, kicking open the door and huffing.

“This shirt is tight.”

“Looks good though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chirps, “See you on the other side.”

Eddie slams the door to the car, tugging his black pea-coat around his shoulders tighter. Long legs stride across the busy parking lot of Regis High School, and Eddie disappears into the fray of the school day.

He knows a shark when he sees one.

And Eddie is sitting in the office of one.

He was seated by a sharp looking secretary five minutes or so ago, told that the Dean would see him shortly.

The office, illuminated by the two far windows, screams Catholic guilt and Eddie suddenly remembers why he stopped going to church. Too stuffy, too formal.

From his spot in the plush leather chair, Eddie can see the picture of two young girls and a blonde woman -- and it peeks his interest. Eddie looks around once, then pushes up off the chair and rounds the desk, beginning to fo what he does best.

CAREFUL.

Just looking.

The top drawer yields nothing, just pens that rattle when he closes it.

Eddie is about to reach for the second drawer when the door knob jingles and his hands go straight for his pockets.

He’s met with the same secretary from before and a kind looking man swathed in the same garb as himself. The clerical collar looks well worn on this man, and from the soft expression on his face, Eddie wonders how much theological well-to-do talk he may have to stomach.

“Oh, hello!” Eddie says quickly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop -- the family photos on your desk are quite beautiful.”

“Oh!” the laugh is gentle and jolly, and Eddie smiles, “Why thank you -- my daughter, she takes photos. Those are my granddaughters and my wife.”

“Beautiful, really,” Eddie says, moving across the room and offer his hand, “I’m Richard Johnson, from Parish of Mother Mary in Midtown.”

Time freezes so suddenly in that cramped office of Regis.

The man reaches out, and in the light of the two windows, his watch glitters and his class ring shines.

IS THAT --

Yepp.

“Johnathan Wendell,” he says, shaking Eddie’s hand, “Dean of Students.”

And suspect.

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#eddie brock x reader #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock x you #venom x reader #venom reader fic #venom x you #eddie brock reader imagine #venom imagine #reports #tom hardy imagine