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#terato tag
dampsleeves · 2 months
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“Oh, you’re a monsterfucker? Do you consider yourself to be undesirable by human standards and want to find someone who is the same way so you can both choose to love each other anyways? 🤓”
I told you that I want a really really big werewolf to rearrange my guts what are you yapping about
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toxooz · 6 months
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🤠🚬
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eldritch-spouse · 13 days
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You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.
You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.
“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”
You feel a tentacle around your ankles
[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]
TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.
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It was a stupid idea.
You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.
You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.
You just wanted to escape.
And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.
You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.
It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...
Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.
Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.
You're going to die.
A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.
You don't want to die.
But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.
It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.
Finally.
You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.
If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?
You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.
Eh. You can stomach it...
God, you're starving.
One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.
You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?
Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?
Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.
You huddle closer to the small fire.
Alone.
But always so on edge.
Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.
The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!
The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.
Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?
Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?
Something stalking.
A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.
Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...
Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?
...
Just eat the fucking fish already.
Food.
Focus on the present.
The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?
You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.
You'll see.
Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.
It's... Well, it's sustenance.
It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.
This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.
A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.
You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.
Nothing.
Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.
Huh.
What the fuck is that thing?
Tall.
Two legs...
Arms?!
Shit- Could it be?!
That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.
Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.
That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.
" H- Hey... "
You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.
But you need to at least try, right?
The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.
With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!
" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "
Nothing.
There's no one.
But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?
No. Everything's wrong.
Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.
Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.
Why is this happening to you?
Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?
Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.
The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.
The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.
You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beggining. What... What the fuck is it?!
The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.
Yeah.
Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.
Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...
You almost wish you hadn't.
Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.
Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.
Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.
From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.
That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extention of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.
Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.
An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.
And yet, he just stares.
Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.
You stare back.
This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.
Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.
Odd.
Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.
And then, it makes this chitter.
Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.
They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...
They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.
Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.
The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.
Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.
Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.
In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.
Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.
He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.
When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.
" H- Hi? "
A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.
One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.
Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.
But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.
When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.
When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.
You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.
Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.
And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.
It was only a little flick.
But naturally, he felt it.
The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.
The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.
Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.
The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.
Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.
There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.
There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.
Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.
Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.
Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.
You should not have opened your mouth.
But you did.
And he visibly brightened up.
The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.
And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.
While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.
Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?
That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?
Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.
Instinct takes over.
Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.
And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.
It should not arouse you.
It should horrify you.
... But it doesn't.
Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?
Who knows anymore.
All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.
You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.
Then it appears to click.
You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.
And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.
He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.
Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?
Too many, probably.
Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?
Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.
Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.
And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.
He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.
No, literally.
The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.
You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.
Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.
He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.
Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.
He shouldn't be that far in you.
You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.
He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.
Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.
You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.
So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.
There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.
It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.
By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.
You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.
The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.
It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.
Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.
" ... Try putting one in. "
You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.
He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.
You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-
But a branch snaps in the distance.
And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.
His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.
In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.
Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!
Finally, people came looking for you!
The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.
Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.
You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.
His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...
And leaving your saviors in the dust.
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yakoalyarin · 6 months
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Love his tail 🥰
You can find more spicier stuff on my Patreon _(:3 」∠)_
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skelliefranky · 8 months
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Summoned
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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year
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🌶️ Spicy🌶️ Masterpost
These are all NSFW fics that are either going or finished 😈
Feel free to send NSFW requests, but no intense violence, ovipositors, or scat, plz 😵
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Tentacle Monster- Chase: nsfw -- x f reader
Part One, Part Two , Part Three, Part Four, Part Five
Shadowbeast- Rafe: nsfw -- x f reader
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven
Headcanon
Wind God- Torin: nsfw -- x f reader
Part One, Part Two Part Three Part Four
Warlock- Landis: nsfw
Oneshot - this is part of a novel that I probably wont post to tumblr
Knights - Xavier, Dustin, Eli, and Marco: nsfw -- x maid f reader
Oneshot
Wolf- Ruston: nsfw -- x f reader
Oneshot, Part Two, Headcanon
Hesian Alien- Nasos : nsfw-- x f reader
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Hesian Alien Rancher- Kostas: nsfw -- x f reader
Request, Headcanon, Request (SFW) Request
Gargoyle Book Shop Owner- Heath: nsfw -- x f reader
Oneshot, Headcanon, Part Two
Vampire Triplets- Church, Sin, and Angel: nsfw -- x f succubus reader
Request
Catman Alien Twins- Qhen and Ceth: nsfw -- x f reader
Part One, Headcanon, Headcanon
Minotaur Demigod- Solomon : nsfw -- x water nymph reader
Request
Werebear- Hugo: nsfw -- x childhood friend f reader
Oneshot, Headcanon, Part Two, Request, Part Three
Alpha Gangster- Jude: nsfw -- x f omega reader
Oneshot
Shapeshifter- Shane: future nsfw -- x f reader
Part One
Night Elf- Victor: nsfw -- x f reader
Request
Kelpie- Vylkas: nsfw -- x f reader
Request, Request (SFW)
Vampire- Marius: semi-nsfw -- x f reader
Oneshot
Shadow King- Zintius: nsfw and sfw -- x f reader
Request (SFW), Part Two (NSFW)
Kherae Alien- Idreod: sfw & nsfw -- x reader with glasses
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four (NSFW), Part Five (NSFW), Part six, Part Seven, Part eight
First Person POV available on smashwords
Maeder- Rohan: nsfw -- x musician reader
Request
Kherae King- Argan: nsfw -- x musician reader
Oneshot
Dragon Knight- Severin: nsfw -- x princess reader
Oneshot, Part Two
Sarantopodarousacentaur (Half man/Half centipede) - Mitas: nsfw -- x f reader
Oneshot
Drider: Ruvain: nsfw -- x f reader
Oneshot
Changeling: Clark: NSFW -- x flower nymph reader
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine
Orc- Moth: NSFW -- x f reader
Oneshot
Orc King- Golmad: NSFW -- x f reader with speech disability
Request Oneshot
Mothman- Roth: NSFW -- x f reader
Oneshot
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vesprynna · 1 month
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🌱🍄Funguary: Edible x Cryptic🍄🌱 My second and last entry for @feefal 's Funguary this year, an Inky Cap Wizard and his beloved princess Dewdrop Bonnet 🥰🙌
Had a lot of fun designing these two and ended up channeling more Elden Ring vibes than I first thought 😂🙏 I can't complain about that though, and I think these two are my favorite of the pairs :) Just love their contrasting dynamics!
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squishysoftmonsters · 5 months
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Triggers : Sexual Content /Mature +18 Minors/Ageless DNI
💚Imagine unprotected monster sex..Cause not feeling the weirdnesses of each one going in you wouldn't make it special..It would be like...regular sex. You can't feel the eggs being lovingly put into you..or the slime peen trying to fight it's way in..What about the tongues,tentacles and big bad wolves who are larger than most?💚
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skeletalobscurity · 1 year
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Husband and wife :)
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twitterpated-passion · 6 months
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China Cabinet | Monster Boyfriend
The cabinet in the corner of your dining room was definitely haunted. You didn’t need to be a medium or believe in the paranormal to know that. It was empty, lacking the china that the previous owners took with them, and considering that you rarely had people other than the occasional friend or your parents over, you never cared enough to get any to fill it, so there it sat, bolted to the wall and empty.
At night though, if you were settled in your living room working, you usually felt something watching you, and if you took the chance and glanced up, it wasn’t rare to see something moving. Though usually, you just pushed it as your eyes fucking with you, or your brain trying to creep you out, so you distracted yourself by popping in your headphones, turning on music or a movie in the background and continue working. The distraction usually helped. Not all the time though.
|___________|
You sat on your couch, a Halloween movie from the nineties on the tv and your hand residing in a half full popcorn bag. After graduating, going out for Halloween never seemed as fun anymore, especially as your friends moved on with their lives, getting married, some even having a kid or two. So there you were, binging movies like no one’s business. That is, until a loud slam echoed in your house.
You stood up, wiping your hand off as it left the popcorn bag when it got set on the table, ignoring everything every horror movie taught you. You walked to the dining room, leaning against the doorframe before reaching over and flicking the light on, seeing nothing there. You heaved out a sigh, assuming the wind must’ve hit your shutters or something, and going back to the couch.
Another noise happened after that, but you promptly ignored it, watching movies until you passed out on your couch, a blanket thrown over your body haphazardly.
|___________|
You woke up as your body started to get cold, eyes blinking open to move the blanket over you fully before you spotted a figure looming above you, screaming and throwing a pillow at them. You yanked your body back, heart racing and deafening your ears as you clambered to the couch and sprinted to the kitchen, getting faster when you heard the person’s footsteps.
Yanking out a knife, you held it out threateningly to the person, only for them to hold their hands up, surrendering to you. “Hey- hey, I’m not gonna hurt you. Promise.”
“What are you doing in my house?!” You all but yelled at them.
He let out a breath, shoulders slumping before he pushed his shoulder neck length hair back, stepping up to you, stopping when you wield the knife further, but slowly and cautiously tugging the knife from your hand. “You’re going to hurt yourself before you hurt me with this thing.”
You were rigid, eyes wide at the audacity of the stranger, not that you were able to move given the fear of someone breaking into your house.
He put the knife to the side, far from the both of you, only to take a step back, his hands moving back up again and he offered you an apologetic smile. You stopped him before he could speak though, repeating your question, “What are you doing in my house?”
You took a step to the side, closer to the front door, but he followed you, hands dropping to his sides. “I’d hate to break it to you, but this is technically my house.”
With a beat, you froze. “No…this is my house. It’s in my name.”
“Yet you’re not the one attached to a cabinet and dead, now are you?” He asked you, raising an eyebrow. “If anything, you’re just someone who happened to get stuck being my roommate.”
It took you a moment, but only a moment as your mind pieced together the puzzle, the reason why you felt something there…the reason why you were feeling like you were being watched. “That was you…”
“What was me?”
“All of the times that I felt like I was being watched. That was you? Wasn’t it?” You saw him visibly tense and he offered an apologetic look.
“Guilty. But it was only while you were down here. I rarely go upstairs unless you’re gone,” he said, though it does little to reassure you about anything in this situation. He seemed to have realized this and readjusted his suspenders, then the sleeves of his button up before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Right…so- I’m Axar…”
You took a moment, wondering if you should respond with your own name, but then took the chance to, introducing yourself. He nodded when you said your name, looking about as awkward as you were panicked, letting silence take over before speaking up after a few seconds, “I wasn’t trying to hurt you back there…when you woke up. Your blanket wasn’t on fully so I just thought…”
“You just thought?” You questioned.
“I just thought It’d fix it,” he finished, sighing. “It’s getting colder and this house doesn’t have the best insulation, I didn’t think you needed to get hypothermia.”
You were quiet for a bit, but you nodded. “Yea…thanks, I guess. You just made me colder though…you’re a ghost right?”
He nodded again. “That’s me…ghost, spirit…whatever it’s called.”
“And how long have you been in this house?”
“A while…kinda lost count after fifty years. I came with the cabinet…I’m kinda…attached to it per-se. I never lived in this place until I died and the cabinet was bought for the house. I’ve been here since.” Axar shrugged. “I won’t bother you if you don’t want me, but I wouldn’t expect or hope that I’ll just up and leave…you’re pretty much stuck with me unless you move away like the last owners.”
“They saw you?”
“I didn’t think they’d get home so early. Moved out as soon as they were able to.” He sighed and moved to lean against the doorframe of the dining room. “Now I just kinda stick to nights…”
“Which is why you were out tonight?” He nodded. “Thought you were out completely, so I didn’t think I’d be caught.”
“You were colder than not having the blanket on fully,” you said. “Thought I had to move it myself.”
You shouldn’t be this casual. He’s dead. A ghost. What was wrong with you?
A sorry smile appeared on his face. “Sorry, I can't exactly help the lack of heat. I’m sure it’s good in the summer though.”
You breathed out a little laugh, nodding along. “It probably is. But uh…you said you were attached to the cabinet, right?”
“Mhm,” he hummed. “I don’t know why, but it might have something to do with me being the one that built it.”
“And when’d you build it?” Arax paused, grimacing before looking at the cabinet, then back at you.
“Like a hundred twenty years ago? Give or take.” Your eyebrows raised, eyes widening with them.
“So you’re saying you’re over a hundred twenty?”
“I died when I was twenty-eight so yea…pretty much,” he shrugged again. “Time’s kinda lost when you’re dead, you can never keep track of it and the days sorta just fuse together.”
You almost felt bad for him, having to go for so long without anyone to talk to and just having to sit and watch in the background, attached to something he just happened to build. “Is there any way to get you out?”
“Afraid not, the last owners tried pretty much everything. I’m stuck here. Not exactly the best predicament, but it beats having to haunt a cemetery like a cliche ghost.”
“Oh, like haunting a house isn’t more cliche than haunting a cemetery,” you jested. “At least in a cemetery you’re where you belong.”
He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“Yea, but thinking I was gonna die really wakes a person up,” you answered, but a yawn snuck up on you.
“Not too awake to stop the yawn though,” Arax commented. “I’ll stay down here if you go upstairs, promise.”
“You’re gonna assume I’m gonna trust the promise of a ghost I just met who was looming over me?” You asked, but snickered and walked past him to clean up your snacks and turn off the tv.
You heard him follow you, but he just stood off to the side and out of your way. “Considering you don’t seem too worried about me, I’m gonna assume and say that I’m alright.”
“That’s the thing with assumptions; you don’t know what the actual answer is.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I’m tired so I’m gonna have to for tonight, but if I die thanks to you and start haunting the place, you’re gonna have to deal with me for all of eternity,” you said, putting the dishes in the sink and throwing the trash away, heading towards the stairs after you finish up. “Don’t be too loud.”
“No promises,” he responded. A little smile appeared on your face and you shook your head, heading up the steps.
|___________|
After half a year, you can confidently say that living with Arax isn’t bad. Sure it was a little weird at first, having a ghost roommate that randomly appears, but he wasn’t as bad as your old living roommates so he was already one of the good ones.
Though, there was that tricky thing called feelings. You would have suspected living with the guy has convoluted what your heart considered a normal friendship, but again, you had roommates in the past. So were you in love with him? You might be. Might.
With a sigh, you sat with your laptop in your lap, staring at the email one of your clients sent you, looking through all of the demands that they’re fortunately paying for thanks to you charging per hour rather than just a fixed price with extras.
Arax sat beside you, tilting his head, but not asking what was wrong. In your time of living with him, he hasn’t once asked about the technology you had, though he definitely sounded his age talking about how he did everything by hand. You assume that with his time being a ghost, he’s kept with the times with each owner, not that there were many.
You glanced over at him, then back at the computer before shutting it and taking the notion that you’d do it later. “Work,” you said simply.
“Ah,” he said, humming before turning further to face you. “What about work?”
“Just work. Don’t feel like doing anything today but if I wanna live here and eat…I kinda have to.” Arax nodded, but moved closer to you and all that did was make you suspicious. “What do you want?”
“Who says I want something?”
“You’re getting closer to me.”
“That doesn’t mean I want something,” he said, mock offended. “But, now that you’re asking, would you mind if you turned on something? I don’t know how to work your remote.”
“Dude, it has four buttons now,” you said, but you relented, turning the tv on and then turning on a show the two of you started a few weeks ago. He grinned at the tv, moving to get closer to it. You didn’t say anything about it, just watched him plop on the floor and watch the tv like an excited kid. Which, if you had to grow up in a time that didn’t have tv and you ended up in a time that did, you’d be excited too.
You relaxed on the couch, stretching out and letting out a small groan when your joints popped. He glanced back at you when they did, shooting you a concerned look, something he did everytime your joints popped. “Stop lookin’ at me like that, there’s no way your joints never popped back then.”
“I didn’t even say anything,” he responded. “Don’t try to kill me again, beau.”
You sighed, watching him look back at the tv as your cheeks flushed red. Beau; that stupid word that made your stomach twist and your heart tug every single time he said it. You loved hearing it, but it was one of the reasons you were so confused with your feelings.
You had asked him once about if he was courting someone before he died, to get a feel about if he had anyone he was wanting to see in the afterlife, but it didn’t come back happily. He had explained that while he tried, he wasn’t really the type most people wanted. You didn’t really understand it, but he explained that he was into anyone and everyone, not exactly caring about how they looked or who they were under their clothes. And once that secret came out to his attempted lovers, it wasn’t exactly good for him. Though, you were able to reassure him pretty easily that it wasn’t his fault or that something was wrong with him. It was actually kind of sweet watching his first reaction to a picture of a pride parade, seeing him see people that were like him.
“You’re not watching,” Arax said, snapping you out of your thoughts, your eyes snapping over to him. “You were zoned out. You ok?”
You nodded. “Yea, I’m fine, just thinking.”
“About?” You parted your lips to say an excuse, but then you got the best idea in the world, hands down. That was just your opinion though.
“Nunna,” you said, watching his brows furrow with a little grin on your face.
“...Nunna?” Arax asked, adorably confused with the word, probably wondering if it was another word he had to learn.
“Nunna business,” you responded almost instantly, your grin widening watching as his confused expression fell and he leaned over to hit your leg.
“Not funny.”
“I thought it was.” You giggled out, nudging his arm. “You’re just old so you don’t think it’s funny.”
His eyes narrowed at you, but he pressed his lips together. Tilting your head, you waited for him to say something snarky in response, but he doesn’t, his features eventually smoothing as he stares at you.
“Do you know your eyes glitter in the sun?” he asked suddenly. You paused and you felt your cheeks get warmer.
“I guess? I wouldn’t say they glitter though.” He stood, sitting beside you before a cold hand grazed your cheek, then grabbed your jaw.
“I would,” Arax said, his face leaning closer. “Your skin is so red…are you warm?”
“Just my cheeks,” you said, but immediately regretted it when he touched your cheeks with his hand, very close now.
“That better?” You nodded and your breathing hitched when you saw his eyes drop down to your lips before going back to your eyes. He pulled his hands away, glancing back to the tv, looking slightly embarrassed, but you decided to take the chance. You only live once, you supposed.
Your warm lips touched his freezing ones and he went rigid at the touch, eyes back on you. Your hands found his head and you moved his head back to face you again, pushing further when his hands found your wrists, returning the action, albeit inexperienced with the movements.
Your heart skipped multiple beats, but you didn’ care, simply smiling against his lips as you pulled back to breathe, biting at your lip as you looked at him again, chest heaving only a little.
With the way that he looked awestruck, you would’ve assumed that if he had a bloodflow, he would be as red as you were. “Wow…”
You laughed, nodding. “Yea…wow.”
He waited a couple seconds, staring at your lips all the while before looking back into your eyes. “Can we do that again? Please?”
Your smile widened and you nodded again, letting him lean forward this time, your back hitting the back of the couch of his hands found your waist as he kissed you. You kissed back, hands moving down to his shoulders as he got even closer to you.
There was no might. You were definitely in love with him.
Now how do you start a relationship with a ghost…?
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Part Two
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dampsleeves · 3 months
Text
monsters understanding the concept of aftercare >>> after being railed by a horror - (or horrors, plural) - of your choice, they're actually very caring. examples:
monster's voice being as eerie and bone-chilling as ever, only there's a slight tenderness to it now as they ask you how you're feeling.
monster remembering that water is very important to humans (& other mortal creatures,) and that it's often needed after exertion, so they ask you if you need some. and then after you agree, they come back with the entire pitcher from your fridge, because they weren't sure how much humans typically need.
monster's claws - which were digging into you a moment ago - are now gently scratching your head, as you lay with them.
monster carrying you around - even to the bathroom - if your legs are still too wobbly
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eldritch-spouse · 5 months
Note
after some sort of “accident” in the shop, there comes to be a fleshlight that is bound to admin. everything that happens to it, admin can feel! <3 admin attempts to hide it but has to go deal with some important business and leaves it in the break room. what’s going down?
[Oooh nice!! I changed the source of the fleshlight a bit though. Fem reader.]
TW: Sex toy sharing (unsanitary); Dubcon; Double penetration in one hole.
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You have absolutely no idea what this is.
It felt like a joke in poor taste, at first.
This... Fleshlight -Because it can only be that- Appeared in the break floor. A deep violet case with golden swirls around the rim, featuring an uncannily realistic mold of none other than your pussy.
So many things went through your mind as you picked it up. Who could have done this? Certainly, to be here on display, only one of your staff team could have concocted such an insult.
Perhaps Santi. He did always have the strangest and lewdest gifts for everyone. He'd offered sex toys molded after notable figures before, this wouldn't be entirely uncharacteristic out of him. Did he simply forget it here or is he planning to give it to someone?
If not Santi, then maybe Nebul. He does operate the shop, and toys of all kinky kinds hold no secrets for him. He could easily make a custom one, right? But he's not the type of monster man to have such a careless lapse and forget his fleshlight on the kitchenette counter like this. This would have to be intentional of him.
It could also be Fank-e. Lord knows that robot will get his metallic little hands on any kind of genital attachment and weird toy he can find. Maybe the creep wants to use a model of your vulva as his own genitals. You wouldn't put such past him. It's a lot more likely the mechanical menace could have gotten distracted by something and left the toy out in the open.
Humming, morbid curiosity makes you gently touch the depraved imitation, fingertips dipping to scissor the thing open when you notice that it's clean.
Instant regret washes over you.
The moment you do such, it's as if phantom digits pierced into your covered cunt and physically spread you out. The thing is dropped back onto the counter and you bend to clutch your panty-covered privates as a sting of pain punishes you.
For a blank moment, you almost believe that Lord Krulu had been the one to finger you. Even if he usually likes to announce their presence before using your form. But it can't be! Your higher has been busy all day, you can feel how diminished his connection to you is right now. This is not his doing.
Paranoid, you glance behind you just to be sure that there really is no one somehow screwing with you. Predictably, you're alone.
Eyes narrowed, you pick the toy up again and reshape your approach, this time making a slow stroke up the left labia, feeling it in your right with a scary level of intensity. The quality of the material itself is strikingly life-like, not just cheap silicone. It's even... Warm? Dear Lord, it's probably the same temperature as you, as your insides. The thought has a gross kind of shiver racing up your spine. Daringly, you thumb over the imitation of your clitoris, met with direct feedback in your own body which perfectly corresponds to the tentative circular motions of your index over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You stop the moment your knees reflexively press forward.
This... Is magic. Which puts a new candidate on the table. The thought alone makes you scoff, could Patches truly be audacious enough to do this? No. Not at all. You don't doubt he'd take a toy molded in your vague resemblance to pathetically rut into- But actually connect said thing to your body? That's already a level of courage that can't be expected of the dullahan in question.
Unless... Ah, this can be the work of his trickster counterpart. That you find more believable.
A pulse in your pocket has you setting the plaything aside to check your phone, reading the text detailing your esteemed guest's arrival.
Maintaining ties to the Rings is imperative in this stage of Krulu's vision for the future. Hell and its denizens are apparently sources of great potential in your Lord-Master's eyes, and he's been very keen in keeping close ties to the fiendish rulership of said location. You're only too happy to help forge bonds with these demonlords, which means scraping around and trying to get to know them. Ironically, it falls upon you the responsibility to tempt them into seeking contact.
Your latest endeavor of this sort involves establishing an explorative partnership with one of the demonlords' sons. He's quite the character, and now that you know he has arrived at the front of The Clergy, you can't just leave royalty waiting.
Both hands busy with texting back a hasty reply, you panic as you try to guess where you could stuff this gross little thing away. Taking it with you is not an option, there's no pocket large enough to conceal the thing and its depraved outline.
Time is not on your side.
The meeting can't take that long, can it? What if you just... Left it in one of the cupboards above the kitchenette?
Yes, and then you'll come to retrieve it, interrogate the team to find which of these losers thought it was a bright idea to play with fire.
That'll do. Hopefully.
Opening a cupboard loaded with small plates and cups, you quickly stuff the fleshlight inside and make your way over to the elevator, fixing your hair and clothes to go greet someone of great importance.
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Vinnel almost barges into the floor.
More of his coworkers had caught the ride up, talking amongst themselves idly, but the jester wasn't preoccupied with their small talk, he was ravenous.
The first item on his shift was a show he had been particularly looking forward to, an opportunity to test some bizarre new weaponry and a game whose rules he deliberated on for more than a week prior to the event itself. Needless to say, it was a display that took a lot of work, tears sweat and love poured into it- And fucking Hell did it pay off! He's ecstatic! And hungry. Starving.
Doing a good show always gets his stomach riled up.
Some flecks of blood still covering his suit, Vinnel is quick to dart to the kitchenette, ignoring anything and everything as he rummaged around for snacks that aren't there.
His temper spikes when the fridge is devoid of meals.
" Chef! " He barks, turning to the blue shroom monster in question, who is only now just setting his apron aside. Morell rises a brow. " You're slacking! "
The large monster scoffs into his scarf. " None o' you assholes got a fuckin' hint of shame, do ya?! " His locker door slams shut. " Ah ain't gonna cook for ya every single day! "
" But- What are we supposed to do then? Starve? " The waiter whines, making big twinkling magenta eyes at the other.
" Not fallin' for it. " Is Morell's flat response.
" Have you tried making your own food? " A bartender chimes in. " I know doing anything for yourself is challenging for you, but give it a try. "
" Rich coming from someone that can't cook for the life of him. "
The jester has entirely disconnected from the banter going on, a shred of hope driving him to keep searching fruitlessly. It's not as if he believes anything to be in the top shelves where cutlery is stored, but maybe one of them could be hiding some type of candy?
Slamming cabinets and cupboards open, the last thing he expects is for something to fall off them. So he nearly jumps in the air when a sizable object tumbles from the cupboard shelf right onto the carpeted ground.
The floor becomes silent, everyone stares blankly at the item in question for a pregnant pause.
Gloved orange digits pick the thing up, Vinnel bringing it closer to his mask. " Huh. "
He knows what it is exactly.
It looks very high-quality, and clean thankfully. Vinnel swears something about the model itself looks... Almost familiar. Hm. Nevertheless, laugher starts bubbling out his chest and he sways his head, juggling the thing.
" Ohohohoho!! " The next time the toy falls, Vinnel grips it viciously and points the thing right at-
" Morell! Such interesting kitchen utensils you have here... "
" Wha- That ain't mine! " The shroom retorts a little too fast.
" Suure. Then why was it in the cupboard, buddy? "
There's a glare, people around the chef are beginning to murmur amongst themselves.
" Like Hell ah know! For all I fuckin' know, ya could'a been tha one to put it there and fake tha whole thing- 'S yours! "
Vinnel titters, clapping as best as he can with his occupied hand. " Oh no, you think that lowly of little old me? " A feigned gesture of offense is met with no sympathy from the rest of the staff team, who do, in fact, think that lowly of the jester. " Unfortunately no, I don't usually perform tricks with fucktoys... Not the silicone ones anyway. "
" Well it ain't mine. " Morell insists. " Which one o' ya little sickos put a fuckin' pocket pussy in the kitchen? "
The suited performer, still vaguely examining the thing, finding it to be a little heavier than most of these toys tend to be given the materials involved in their manufacturing, swivels his head towards the next suspect.
" Sex pest! "
Santi, already very interested in the turn of events this day is taking, smiles as if just having been complimented. " Yes? "
" Why did you put your fucktoy here? " The performer looms over his demonic coworker, accusatory and demeaning. " So we could find it? So you could be gross about it, hm? "
The incubus hums, eyes on the toy rather than his frilled coworker. " Mm no, that's not my toy sweetheart. Though do let me have a closer look, maybe I can find a trace of our dirty little culprit... "
" Liar! " Vinnel spits.
Santi chuckles, making a move to grab the object yet thwarted when Vinnel angles it away.
" And why would I lie, love? If it was mine I'd tell you readily. I've brought toys to work before, haven't I? Never lied about it. "
And he's right, much to the jester's chagrin. The incubus could bring a cum-soaked dildo into this floor shamelessly, he wouldn't lie about a fleshlight.
Vinnel growls and floats back to point it directly at Nebul, but the shopkeeper beats him to the punch.
" I do not bring items from the shop into the break floor. Furthermore, I don't recognize that model. Does it have a brand? "
The jester checks, flipping the thing in all angles only to find neither words nor numbers printed anywhere. He glances to the crowd around him again, gears turning, machinating, until his attention falls on the dullahan, making Vinnel dart to him.
" You've been far too quiet this whole time, gourd brains... " He accuses, painted eyes narrowing.
Patches flusters, arms raised and leaning back. " What- What do you want me to say? I don't- "
That vegetable expression shifts suddenly, going from uncomfortable and anxious to complete focus. It's enough to make the jester tilt his head. " What? "
" That thing is brimming with magic. " He points out, leaning closer as if the gesture could reveal more by itself.
" ... Is it now? " Vinnel won't lie. It's a possibility. The fleshlight looks and feels anything but normal.
" You- You do know what that means, right? " Patches fumbles, squirming in mild discomfort. Those green cheeks acquire a tint that makes the jester's eyes roll in irritation behind his mask.
" Oh do fucking enlighten me, you masochistic kabocha. "
" Boys, boys- " Santi starts, tail wagging as he wedges himself between the two men. " We're missing the point. I've seen this before. That little thing is connected to some poor sap. And, if I'm not suddenly visually impaired, it looks extremely human to me. "
Another moment of silence stretches across the room
The jester's inked grin widens, and armed with a brand new realization, he starts feathering his digits along the edges of the pocket pussy's entrance, paying close attention to it. His mask nearly falls off when the thing physically seems to twitch. Uhuhu!
" No. " Belo begins, pointing a trembling finger at the demon. " You wouldn't dare suggest- "
" That our lovely Administrator has sent us a gift? " Santi challenges, tone sultry. " But of course, Belo! This is a reward for our hard work, and ohh, I just can't wait to make the most of it. "
Vinnel has now managed to slip one finger inside, completely tuned off to the conversation happening right next to him. Shock of all shocks, the thing hugs his digit as if it were real. And, as he experimentally removes the intrusion, a sheen of what can only be arousal wets his gloves. It really is you. He just fingered you. Hah!
" Filthy beast! You shall not touch that, this can't be right. " The angel's wings flex and twitch in growing agitation. As always, he seems very eager to try to choke the life out of Santi- And he would, if he didn't already know that the demon would immediately salaciously get off on it.
" But what if it is? What if she wants us all to take turns, experience her supple little cunt? " He taunts, surfing the room, gouging the reactions of his coworkers as most of them flush with sudden want at the idea. Yes, they like it as much as he does, Santi's just honest about it. " Would you reject her gift, Belo? "
The power in question is puffed like an angered parakeet, a myriad of emotions warring in those expressive, large eyes. " Control that foul tongue of yours lest I rip it off your worthless mouth and make your depraved clients very disappointed. "
" One day you'll revel in your own perversions. " He says it calmly, as if it were fact, grinning when the angel prepares another outburst.
" Guys. "
Vinnel is now two fingers deep into the magical fleshlight, a stupefied look on his face as he finds the toy -You- Welcoming him without resistance. You clench around him. Gods, he can't wait to stuff his cock in there, to fuck you, to rail you knowing that you can't do anything to stop him. At least not until you find him. Oh, he could make a game out of it!
" She's practically dripping. " The jester pulls both fingers out, spreading them to showcase a film of arousal between both digits.
" She's... Enjoying this. " Patches murmurs, breathy, fixated on the dirty gleam.
" Alright, if you're done being manchildren, I want to go first. " The slime suddenly pipes up, moving in on the stage performer.
" My ass you will! " Grimbly gets in the way, scoffing.
Vinnel finds a crowd of monsters suddenly gather around him, hands twitching for the item in his hands, eyes glinting like wolves corralling a chicken in its coop.
" Give me that, jester, it needs to be secured somewhere safely- "
" No no, give it to me, I'll make her feel so good! "
" Maybe if I have it, I- I can tell whose magic this is. "
" It was in mah cupboard, maybe she wants me ta be first! "
" Nuh uh!! " The jester suddenly shouts, floating higher in the air. " Finders keepers! Piss off! "
An ashy hand clamps around his ankle, jostling the bells there. " Were you not accusing us of being perverse? Let us take that dirty thing off your hands. " Nebul beckons.
As he's tugged down, Vinnel deforms his limbs inside his suit to twist away from the hands pawing at him. Growling, he pulls away, towards the window, towards the outside. If he can make it through the window, a significant portion of the staff team will be halted in their pursuit. He might get to hide with the toy and keep it all for himself.
Gallon, anticipating this, moves fast. Yellow tendrils coil over both the jester's legs and waist, trying to pull the extended arm back into the room even as Vinnel tries his damndest to keep it at out, his arm bending weirdly inside its red sleeve.
" Fuck off! All of you sad sacks of shit- This is MINE! " The slime gargles and screams, other hand clinging to the tall window's edge as tightly as possible. " I found it! "
" Stop strugglin' boy. We gonna talk this out. " The chef chuckles, successfully using brute strength to start pulling him inside.
The others help. He's fighting a losing battle and he knows it.
As soon as the performer feels a disturbance in the fabric of his suit's composition, he freezes. Primal, soul-shaking terror, grabs a hold of his body and he gasps, shrieking as he drops both hands to instantly claw, kick and try to mangle whoever's about to possibly rip his suit.
There's a chorus of pained cries and he's thrown to the ground, clinging to his form for dear life. Literally. Because if anything opened, he would potentially leak to the carpet and meet his end very quickly.
" Gah-! You useless clown! He dropped it! " The bat squeals, a high-pitched noise that grates on everyone's ears.
Vinnel startles. His possible panic attack and frantic body checking is halted by the sudden realization that yes, he did drop the fleshlight in his panic. That means...
The orange and purple menace stumbles to a stand shoving the group bent over the window aside to poke his head out and see for himself where the sex toy landed. After a few grunts and curses, the view is revealed.
On the grass of the garden outside the building, the toy landed sideways, rolling aimlessly over mutated flowers that lean away from the unidentified object. There's a beat of stillness.
Everyone knows it's only a matter of time until the thing is retrieved, possibly by a client, which means they'd have to waste time hunting for a random loser before getting to their prize. They exchange stares, aware that as soon as someone moves, the hunt is one, the game starts.
And yet, before even a step towards the elevator is taken, the scene below them changes.
A bench sat some distance away uncurls, black iron body turning into a grayed gangly mass with a wooden chest for a head, teeth poking out of it. Said monster seems to stretch himself before moving on all fours to inspect the thing.
Sybastian squats, picks up the fleshlight. Although his eyes are hidden in the great darkness of his objectum head, everyone can practically see the gears turning in his head.
The mimic glances up, perplexed yellow eyes staring dubiously at his coworkers.
" Syb. " Patches calls, reaching a hand out. " That is very special, leave it there. Do not touch it- "
Too late.
" No! No!! "
He found a toy, he's going to play with it. Sybastian starts hurriedly moving out of view.
" Motherfucker! I'll gut you! " Vinnel screeches, banging uselessly on the building's exterior.
" Blasted mimic... " Belo is the first to peel off the window. " What do we do now?! "
" Well... " Morell sighs, pulling his apron back on while everyone sulks and simmers.
" We go huntin'. "
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Huh.
Isn't that one way to wake up...
Sybastian's nap had been disturbed when he sensed an impact nearby. It couldn't have been something very large, but part of his hunting routine involves being in that fine line between resting and alert enough to sense the faintest vibrations, categorize them as noteworthy or not on a subconscious level. His curiosity had him rising anyway, shedding his disguise and following the direction of the sound until he found...
A sex toy.
In the middle of the grass.
His eyes don't deceive him, he knows what kind of toy this is, has seen them in the undead's shop. They're the kind you can fuck into, small and convenient.
He was unsure as to why such a thing had been tossed out, so he looked around and found most of his coworkers already fixed on him. It didn't take a genius to piece together the fact that they had been likely squabbling over the thing.
Yet, oddly, it didn't smell used. In fact, it featured an odor Sybastian could swear he's had his face buried in before.
The mischief of his nature acted up, and the mimic crawled away with the toy held in his maw.
He knows the rest of them will come looking for him immediately, so the mimic scurries deep into the less stable parts of the garden- Where Hellion tends to dwell. The parts that can shift, remold and relocate themselves in the blink of an eye as the establishment periodically "refreshes" itself. It's a gamble, he admits, but it's the only place staff will hesitate to enter due to its volatile nature. Sybastian is more well-equipped to deal with these areas, given he spends most of the time in the garden, has learned many of its tricks.
Let them bump around like blind moles.
Eventually, Sybastian finds an area dense in plantlife, a good distance away from the main building already, and sensing no approaching threats, the mimic seats himself next to a wide trunk, spitting his conquest into his hands and taking the time to examine it.
It's a fancy fuck-pocket alright.
Curious about the scent, he drags the thin end of his tongue across the length of the artificial pussy, eyes widening when taste hits him. Not just any taste, arousal and wetness and- Human. A human he's put that same roving muscle upon before.
You.
Sybastian is certain these things aren't meant to have such specific tastes. He's not sure how such a thing came into being, a carbon sort of copy of your cunt, but he understands why the others were fighting over it. Syb would too.
A little thrill crawls along the length of his spine.
No time to waste, he better make use of this before he's accosted by a swarm of angry monsters.
The mimic drools and smiles as he pushes a good portion of his deep blue tongue past sweet folds and into the surprisingly warm, hugging insides of the toy. He removes his loincloth hastily and palms his already chubbing cock to the thought of you flipping your work outfit up and spreading yourself out so he can have full access to that puffy pussy. The mental image of your provocative, inviting smile while you grab onto the fat of your ass has him moaning, dick pulsing.
Fucking the pathetic little escapists is one thing, but nothing beats your delicious, perfect holes. You have everyone here by the balls and Sybastian is no different.
Releasing a filthy murr of anticipation, the mimic's shackles rattle as he brings the now thoroughly slobbered pocket pussy down, teasing it along the head of his cock.
Oh, if all of them feel this real then he really has to bother Nebul for one.
Sybastian swears he feels it quiver against his length, panting as soon as he starts sinking it onto his thick length. The moment his tip pops in, he rumbles, feeling its walls immediately clinging to him, spasming in such a life-like manner he can't help bucking into it, greedily and impatiently stuffing more of himself into the exceptionally pleasurable fucktoy.
He couldn't take it slow even if he wanted to, claws curling viciously around the purple tube as he starts jerking himself off with it in earnest, loud groans echoing amidst his panting. It feels exactly like you! Hot and tight and spongy and so so good, he loves to fuck you- This is going to be his favorite toy ever.
Syb's hips snap into a grossly desperate rhythm, a lurid plap of skin on wet artificial skin as his balls hit it with every senseless rut upwards. His maw closes slightly, the mimic's eyes glaze and he pictures you there. On his lap, back turned to him, juicy ass on full display while you put both palms on his gangly knees and ride the monster for all he's worth, milking his cock and drooling like you've never had better.
Gods, if Sybastian focuses enough, he can almost feel the softness of your rump on him with each thrust. He wishes he could grab onto your waist, onto the cushion there, and use you the same way he's using this copy to breed into.
You're the hottest, prettiest little human he'll ever have the opportunity to stuff himself into.
There isn't a single intelligent thought in Sybastian's head when he starts grinding the pocket-pussy down, the tensing of his legs and abdomen bringing him ever closer to that sweet release, and he's looking forward to flooding the fucktoy full of his cum, feeling it clench heavenly around him the same it has been for a while now.
With one last, obscenely loud slap of his meat into the fleshlight, Sybastian howls and throbs hard, coming undone with great intensity and melting onto the grassy ground, the feeling of his own hot jizz spurting out the toy and leaking past his balls to coat this thighs a depraved sign of his victory.
He lies there, boneless from his own orgasm, hand still clumsily dragging your toy up and down his now spent cock, and all is well for a blissful moment.
...
Until-
" Bravo. Mm, good show... "
Sybastian peers up, not as sharp as he would be now that he's disoriented from cumming. A pair of glowing green eyes poise on him, and none other than the incubus makes it past the foliage of this part of the garden.
He's vaguely surprised the other was brave enough to come here.
" What? " Santi places a hand to his hip. " Thought I wouldn't find you? I could smell you getting off like a rabid animal, you need more than greenery to hide from me. "
Fair. Syb was being loud too. He doesn't let go of the toy however, suspiciously allowing the demon to lewdly scheme the dirty mess between his legs.
" Hand me the fleshlight, love. "
There's a growl. Santi frowns.
" Oh come now, you greedy slut, I'll make sure you get something out of it too. " He lulls, drawing closer slowly, to the point where he stands in front of the mimic, before crouching.
Sybastian keeps growling faintly, pulling out of the fleshlight to hold it away from the high-ranker, a gross pool of cum still oozing off the recently used thing. He doesn't miss the way the incubus' nostrils flare.
" Why, I'll even tell you a little secret, hm? "
Santi crawls between the mimic's legs, collecting a bead of the monster's cum and putting it to his mouth, luridly sucking the fluid off his finger before spitting onto his palm and using it to stroke Sybastian.
What begins as overstimulated shocks that force his legs to twitch and squirm away is forcibly turned into a brand new wave of arousal and need. He doesn't fight it, letting himself get stimulated anew and only offering a little bit of resistance when Santi pulls the fucktoy out of his grasp.
If he's here... Where are the others?
" What if I told you this little thing here- " Santi starts, selfishly and deliberately fingering globs of cum out of the toy for his own amusement. Syb notes the rigid length bobbing between his coworker's dark thighs. " Is loaded with magic? "
A toothy head tilts in confusion. Sybastian kind of assumed there was something unknown at play here, he just can't tell the implications.
" You can smell it, right? You know who this reminds you of. "
Syb's eyes widen.
" Did you also know that this fleshlight is connected to our Admin? She felt everything you just did to her, Sybastian. " The incubus chuckles, letting his drool seep onto the rim of your pussy, then spreading the aphrodisiac fluid over your lips, circling you clit with it languidly.
Sybastian doesn't need to be a scientist to know you're probably losing your mind by now.
" Oh you fucked her open like a rabid bull. I wish I could see her state right now- I bet she's sweating a storm in her clothes, her own cum and wetness dripping down her legs, too cock-drunk to speak! What a good job you did... "
Sybastian spaces off slightly, picturing what the results of his careless and selfish fucking must have reduced you to. He almost feels bad, if the image the Lust demon painted in his head wasn't so awfully erotic. He literally used you.
" Mmm, now, let's give her something to really scream about, big boy. "
In a blur of movement, Santi presses against the gray monster, both lengths squeezed together, pumped hastily a couple times but with practiced precision that makes Syb groan. And then, much to his growing amusement and shock, the incubus hovers your toy above them both, strings of falling seed used to further lubricate both of them.
The demon looks to be burning with anticipation, shuddering as he presses the thing down.
" ... Won't. Fit. " The mimic eventually mumbles, wondering if Santi's intent is to actually rip you open.
" Don't be silly- " There's a rasped snicker. " I've seen her bounce on Lord Krulu's lap. Just lie back and let me make this memorable for the three of us. "
It's a stretch. A fat stretch, but it seems the magical properties of the toy are indeed aligned with your own physical limitations, because the fleshlight gradually accepts both monsters, clenching with mind-melting pressure against both leaking cocks.
Santi is the first to moan low and needy, claws sinking into the bark of the tree his coworker leans against so he can steady himself in the face of such sudden ecstasy. Sybastian follows with his own trill, their members twitching and pulsing, trapped against each other, within you.
When Syb makes a disoriented motion to try and grasp the thing, make it move over them both, the incubus snaps his teeth at him in a language the other understands, determined to control the pace. And control he does, viciously pumping them both off, twisting, grinding the thing frequently.
A pace that would otherwise certainly chafe both males is now sloppy and soaked, lubricated by Syb's seed, your wetness and Santi's precum. They fuck themselves silly, trading groans and frantically bumping their hips, one moment thrusting in perfect sync, the next selfishly seeking their own pleasure.
The incubus' tongue hangs and he tosses his head back when a certain familiar pace of contractions around him is felt.
" Oh- Ohhh fuck- " He calls to the other. " Feel that? Yeah? " Sybastian nods and makes a strangled ambiguous noise. " She's cumming. Hard. "
Both of them grow fevered, preening at the knowledge.
" I hope she's fucking screaming. I hope she's trying to guess who we are. "
The fiend had always been too good with his obscene little comments, Sybastian's second, overstimulated orgasm is flayed out of him with no ounce of mercy. Santi gets almost hysterical with the conquest, getting high off the power he's exerting over both you and the mimic, climbing to his peak and letting his eyes roll back when the first pulses of an approaching end seize him.
The only reason he doesn't scream when he's suddenly grabbed by the horns is because there was already little breath in his lungs to begin with.
A pair of metallic, sticker-adorned arms loom from above, rigged hands wrenching his head back to face a slightly cracked visor displaying a deceitfully friendly face.
" 1'll B3 t4k1Ng 7H4t N0w. :] "
Fuck.
His robotic coworker uses superior reflexes to grab the toy, wrench it off both monsters, and bolt out of sight with surprising speed for a being of such immense density.
Instincts claw at the hellish monster. He only stands there for a stunned second, clutching nothing but air, before he's snarling like a feral creature and racing after the party bot, pushing many of his other coworkers away.
Grimbly gains on all of them, but when the incubus drops onto all fours the two collide and roll away in a mess of shouting limbs.
Gallon passes by them and laughs, then gets lashed aside by a whip lit on dullahan fire.
Vinnel is thrown across the garden, apparently launched away by Fank-e cackling in the distance.
This isn't ending any time soon...
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yakoalyarin · 3 months
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Request for рatreons ! ————— Larikon is very complex about the fact that in his true form he is “not like everyone else.” That’s why he hides it from everyone, including Berkan (but this is only one of the reasons). A serious quarrel between the guys from their childhood will also play a role here, which will drive Lari even more into bad thoughts. But we will skip this period of their relationship a little and move on to the moment when Berkan will show interest in Larikon in the form of Echidna. But not everything is so fast)) Hehe 🌚
You can find more spicier stuff on my Patreon _(:3 」∠)_
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skelliefranky · 6 months
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Refuge
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vesprynna · 6 months
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🌿Gargoyle • Monstera🌿
Day 4-6 of my Drawtober project, Reverie in Green🌿 💖 A loving tribute to all things monster romance and plant-like haha!
This one features a sweet gargoyle perched in waiting. Waiting for the rain to stop, hoping his special someone will come to his cathedral to see him again. I imagined he only animates at dusk and remains animated until sunrise. His favorite thing is to watch the sun come up, bathing him and his perching spot in warmth as he goes back to slumber again... 💛
I've never drawn a gargoyle before, but it was so much fun and I love how his toothy lil face turned out 🥰
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lupinedreaming · 6 months
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I know this is the website where more cutesy, dog-like portrayals of werewolves are popular, but I’m here to tell you it’s okay if those interpretations don’t really appeal to you.
Personally, I much prefer a) angsty werewolves who struggle with controlling their wolf sides and b) werewolves who can control their wolf sides but still have something sexy and wild about them.
Don’t get me wrong, dog-like werewolves can be cute sometimes, but that’s not the type I’m mainly into, and I find it annoying sometimes to keep seeing posts insisting dog-like interpretations of werewolves are the best and that any other portrayal is dumb and boring
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