#Pebble oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eldritch-spouse · 10 months

Note

I need a threesome with Comie(?) and Pebble. Just I need to be knotted as I suck off honeyboi.

P. S Love you Pinnie. Thank you for your hard work 🙏

[It's "Colmei", but you got it basically. You didn't really specify, so I'm putting you in the "Admin" role. Love you too! <3 Fem reader.]

TW: Knotting; Food cum (as in, it's literal honey); Slight cultish themes.

The bug monster always intrigued you.

He wasn't made by The Clergy's Eye. Your lord didn't weave him into existence either.

That you know of, this... Man? Male. He just showed up. Installed himself in the garden. A ridiculous notion, it really reminds you of Fank-e.

You recall the initial commotion.

Krulu had been alerted to the entity's prolonged presence and effectively wanted to remove said unknown monster from his grounds. Because, after all, if he wasn't there to make some sort of exchange and be sapped at like the rest, then he was a waste of space and resources- Especially when the uncivilized monster decided to station his colony in the garden.

What stopped your lord from rightfully removing the witless intruder from his domain were the desperate plights of Patches and Nebul, both undead monsters exhibiting great fascination with the likes of Colmei, as he's come to be called. You don't even remember which of the two baptized him anymore... When push came to shove, you chose to voice an opinion, siding with your coworkers. Not to spite Krulu, never. You truly just shared their fascination with the bee man. Besides, the garden actively benefits from the actions of his well-coordinated bees, that can't be denied.

And he was left alone, begrudgingly.

"Bee man" is a misleading term. From what little of his body you've seen, he's nothing like a bee-based monster at all. If anything, you'd liken him more to a parasitic entity inhabiting the garbs of a medieval beekeeper, like a snail's shell. His sleeves are always long and down, like Nebul's. His mask is usually always in place, and although many people would wonder about the monster's ability to see, you know better. You've learned a lot in your time working here. Masks and lack of visible ocular organs means nothing. You know Colmei can see his surroundings the same way you can- And even if you didn't, Patches' extensive research on the specimen more than proves it. He can circumvent objects in his path without scent or palping, he can differentiate colors, he has depth and perception like a human's, a field of vision standard in your species. He's a little wonder, you've combed -Pun intended- through reports on him more than once.

And, although he's not officially recognized as a "garden anomaly" by anyone here, you lump information about him next to Hellion and Pebble's cases. In fact, now that you recall things, didn't Pebble form after Colmei's arrival? Probably, you'll have to check later. The two get along well enough, which already can't be said about Hellion's relationship with the bee caretaker. Then again, Hellion has a strong personality, to say the least...

Speaking of, you're sacrificing some of your free time this morning to satisfy one of Patches' requests. He needs a sample from Colmei. Saliva was easy enough to get, the monster does eat, and with those three slobbering tongues you've caught glimpses of, it was hard to miss a chance to get a swab of his drool. The problem came when Patches attempted to get a "seed sample". You've long since stopped questioning why he wants to work with reproductive fluids, and considering the stunts you've seen this dullahan pull using a variety of organic elements, you have to at least admit there's some merit to what superficially comes off as pure depravity. Even if you'd like it if he stopped obsessing over homunculi...

Patches is old, he knows what he's doing sometimes.

Point being, whenever the undead tries to get handsy with Colmei, the bug monster blatantly rejects him, buzzing angrily. He doesn't often fall for traps either. Relatively speaking, you'd assume Colmei would be very receptive to sexual attention ever since he discovered ejaculation is harmless, in much the same way Belo underwent a somewhat prolonged lustful fever the moment he was bedded by you and lord Krulu. And, effectively, Colmei spends an inordinate amount of time stimulating himself, perhaps in an effort to make up for all the times he was left frustrated and hopelessly libidinous for no reason. Although he frequently brings himself to completion, the garden inhabitant doesn't allow people to approach him sexually often. Santi was briefly allowed to stroke him through his garb, but the moment the demon attempted to get a better feel, he was quickly hissed and buzzed at.

You think the incubus is still a little sore over that. Heh.

Nevertheless, you've decided you'll get this over and done with it today. Because you're not just anybody, you're the Administrator of this establishment, and what needs to be done will get done, so help you.

It's all a matter of waiting. Colmei's going to get bothered at any moment, you know he has nothing better to do in the mornings, because his hive has adapted to The Clergy's Eye's schedule. His army of bees all remain mostly dormant within early mornings, because the garden's flowers too are dormant, meaning there's no pollen to collect. That's just how this tilted world is. Cleverly, they rest and save energy for the evenings and nights. Colmei wakes from slumber much earlier however, has to, acting as a guard for his smaller colony elements.

You've been sitting on a lonely bench (who, miraculously, isn't Sybastian) for a while now, bidding your time. Occasionally, you'll make conversation with your currently busy higher, other times you'll catch Hellion shift in his sleep atop a tree's fat branch. Generally, you don't have much trouble sitting placidly, rolling the tube-like vial in-between your gloved fingers. Some people get maddened by the waiting game, Krulu has taught you better.

Your first plan of action is simple, coaxing. If that fails, which it just might, there's no doubt in you something can be schemed. This is far from the most daunting of challenges you've taken on.

Time passes, the fog hugging your home's dark walls recedes ever so gently, some of the plant life sways and plumps, as if the building is yawning, waking itself up. The fountain comes alive, sprinkling water in all the wrong directions, as usual. Today, it sports a curious, hourglass shape, adorned with well-sculped crows seemingly flocking around it. Lord-Master would enjoy the sight of it if he was paying attention to your whereabouts right now.

From then on, it's fairly soon when you hear a more pronounced buzz coming from the sides of the establishment. Seeing as it's usually quite silent this time of day, it can only be the beekeeper. You smile knowingly, aware of what he'll most likely be doing in a little while.

Rising, measured, slow and muted footsteps carry you closer to the source of the sound. You trail the edges of your establishment, ears almost twitching with the way they're perked at every insect-like noise. When those sounds dip into a slightly familiar rhythm, strong but interspersed with breaks of abrupt silence, like gasping, your pace quickens.

Turning around the front left edge of the building, you see him there, predictably. Colmei leans against the dark brick walls of The Clergy, some fair distance away from the oversized colony structure attached to it. Monochrome robes pool messily around his hips, held there by pitch black arms that dip between full thighs and grasp a humanoid appendage with fervor.

It's a silly thing to say, but being that you've witnessed so many foreign genital configurations, it's become a novelty to find a "proper" set on monsters these days. You'd expect something as bizarre as Colmei to sport a wet and curling thing moving this way and that, but no- There it sits, humanoid balls beneath a humanoid shaft. Very odd indeed.

He's doing exactly what you predicted he would, somewhat clumsily palming and squeezing himself, grip on the base of his cock but mostly static. He may have learned to bring himself to fruition, but he's not practiced at it, perhaps that's why he spends so much time agonizing like this. Once more, you'd think masturbatory motions would come near instinctively to the parasitic entity, yet that doesn't seem to be the case. The head of his already slick cock drips something incredibly viscous to the ground, this darkened orange-ish string that, if seen from afar, could almost be mistaken for something else.

You've seen traces of it on the garden at times, spattered messily atop flowerbeds. Patches could just collect one of those and use it, but he insists they're not appropriate, have been tainted. Frankly, you think he just wants an excuse to make someone touch the garden monster.

Amused, you observe Colmei clumsily paw at himself, throbbing against nothing, chest filling out as he tries to angle his legs in a better position. He almost figures out how to cant them well, then gives up. It's as endearing as it is aggravating to watch. You think he made an odd droning cry at some point. You're getting as frustrated as he is just watching him try to find a good method. Part of you only wants to rush there and hold those meaty hands over his length properly, pump him decently, make him curl his grasp here and there, grab his full balls and slap his ass when he finally gets the gist of it. One would assume Colmei would get the hang of it by watching the drunk stragglers that stumble into the garden and beat off in their highs. Then again, usually something ends up happening to them.

Stepping into the very corner of Colmei's field of vision -Well, assuming his vision isn't totally tunneled, which it might be- You make a soft coo at the monster.

He heard it. Heard it very well. You commend his alertness even in a state distracted by arousal.

For a second, you wondered if the unknowable monster man was going to jump out of his robes, face swinging immediately in your direction and pitifully small wings spreading. It reminds you of Belo when he's upset, minus the parakeet fluffing. Whatever angry noise was beginning to rattle in his abdomen is halted when he realizes who's standing in front of him.

Garden anomalies have a primal, inherent understanding of the dynamics of The Clergy. They know who your lord is, can feel his work and his presence everywhere. They know to respect him, and they understand who his vessel is. As such, you're very often treated with less mischievous intent and never shown a wink of genuine hostility unless they're deeply aggravated by an exterior agent. Colmei isn't a garden anomaly however, which makes his similar reactions all the more interesting. He learned from the others that you're a figure to be cautiously regarded, to be mildly subservient to.

Maybe he can sense Krulu, maybe he can't- It's still hilarious that he treats you like an untouchable figure just because others are doing it.

Which is to say, your hypothesis here is that he won't deny your advances because he thinks more of you than he does the rest of the staff.

Colmei's buzzing is now muted and soft, uncertain. Incredibly enough, his static hand is still wrapped around a neglected member. Though you can clearly gouge he's extremely tense right now.

" Colmei. "

He reacts to the word, perking, knowing that's what he's called in these grounds.

" Come here. "

There's a communication barrier between you and the beekeeper, sure. But he's been learning the language ever since his stay here. He knows what those words mean, especially when you do a curt beckoning gesture. If your lord were available now, he'd facilitate the conversation, but alas. You're no baby, you'll get this done on your own.

When the beekeeper doesn't move a muscle, your first step forward is measured, the two of you watching each other like hawks in a standstill. That's definitely not the energy you're going for, so you put on a smile, glancing from his covered complexion to the treat he clutches and licking your lips. Come on...

Colmei's wings flutter, though stubbornly, he doesn't meet you.

Cautious steps turn to confident struts, unbothered by his evident turmoil. You halt right up close to Colmei, seeing the way he breathes faster, the noise of something wet shifting behind that grayed mask. Knowing he's clearly deliberating, you don't reach for the goal immediately, in fact, you just stare at him with a soft expression.

The pressure cracks him.

Colmei ultimately leans down, the bottom of his head garbs brushing barely on the crook of your neck. Whether it was done just to have contact or to somehow smell you, is irrelevant. Smiling, you gently crane your head, shifting to push cloth away, such so that the monster can see more of your neck. There's a sound by your ears, something being dislodged, pushed aside by a slimy protrusion that eagerly splays itself on bare skin, laving, relishing.

The noise you make in response is only a little bit hammed up. It does feel nice, but riling him up is more important right now. When the monster makes a strange rolling croon, soft and high, you inch closer to trail gloved fingertips on his right inner thigh, a teasing back and forth that might frustrate another male, but he seems content with it. Progress is made when the beekeeper's previously static hand jolts to life, stroking over himself more avidly than before, though still as clumsy. Another gross extremity comes to slobber on your neck, the two twining occasionally in the monster's enthusiasm. Drool is seeping into your clothes. Although your digits creep upwards just a tiny bit more with every to and fro, you bide your time.

He parts his legs further, almost imperceptibly so, and paired with his erratic wing flicking, you take it as an invitation. Colmei stiffens, in many ways, the moment you follow the curve of his balls and trace the root of him, hand venturing to join his and stroke his girth in tandem. It was sensuous, scrupulous, lazy.

But it was still too much.

The beekeeper jars, jumping away from your touch and presence in surprising speeds for such a large body. Monochrome robes are pushed down and he makes a distinctly hostile buzz much like the roar of an engine. Though, as quickly as it reverbs through the garden, Colmei appears to get a flash of self-awareness and strangles the rest of the cry into a high-pitched squeal. You raise an unamused eyebrow at him, watching incredulously when the hive guardian merely recedes into the distance, turning around the edge of the building to avoid you.

Hm.

Well that's a mission failed, for sure.

A bitter taste settles on your tongue. The defeat of sexual rejection is something you haven't had to deal with in a long time, although, Colmei's evident fear of being stimulated by another is amusing enough to wave that frustration away as you snicker to yourself. What is he doing now? Just sulking in the corner with a throbbing cock and tightened nuts? If he jerks off now and ruins your chance to get that sample, you're going to be so livid. What a pussbag.

...

Speaking of cowards...

A depraved little lightbulb dawns over your head.

You're going to lure Colmei into letting you touch him, by making him want to participate. But, for this next stunt, you need a volunteer. Not just anyone will do, criteria dictates said third element needs to have a moderately positive bond with the beekeeper.

You're not going to bother staff while they prepare for the day. Hellion is like a pest to Colmei, a nuisance in a good day. That leaves dear old Pebble.

Workable.

The fog that seems to poise over this infrastructure, shielding it, bathing the premises in properties you can't exactly comprehend, also affects plenty of the beings that inhabit this space. Naturally. The flock of gargoyles that's settled on the roof, the standard ones that is, seldom ever turns to stone in plain daylight.

You and Patches have conversed about this, it's likely due to the way the fog mutes some of the sunlight's qualities. Whatever sort of biological signals determine a gargoyle should enter "stone sleep" are filtered out. That's not to deny that there exist days where the sun is so potent it still manages to turn most into statues.

Pebble is odd. Of course he is, he's a mutant of the garden -Your sweet spawn of Krulu- But it seems he only partially turns to stone for a very brief span of time. You've caught him in states that weren't quite sleep nor consciousness, body shifting in jerky motions as he instinctively tried to stretch, looking around, but not able to move much aside from a step or two in ambiguous directions.

This half-awake half-asleep state appears to bother the gargoyle, so he's cleverly taken to nesting in spots that provide shade during the day, keeping himself mostly shielded and avoiding having his body paralyzed. In fact, you bet you won't have to search too much for him at all! Venturing to the opposite side of The Clergy's exterior, there's a flattish roof area there he tends to pick often. Although you could scale the building with your lord's arms, that likely won't be necessary.

" Pebble. " You call softly.

A few moments of silence pass.

" ... Pebble! " Comes out slightly more forcefully.

It's always a bit tricky with him. You don't want to raise your voice and make him accidentally interpret that you're angry at him. Having one monster run off is enough.

There's a sigh. " Damn it. Pebb- "

With a soft sort of click click clack of clawtips on darkened tiles, a paperbag clad head peeks out from the edge, followed by its twin.

The mutant offers you a confused, nervous glance, pinprick eye blinking tiredly before darting every which way. Yes yes, no one really likes getting woken from their beauty sleep. You understand him perfectly.

" Hi lovely. " Gentle gentle, he stares at you, still as quizzical as before. " Wanna come down here for a second? I need your help. "

The gargoyle hesitates. He always does, though you take no offense to it. That's just how he is. A good deal of time has passed ever since Pebble was welcomed into The Clergy, and the anomaly has come to trust some of the staff, you being one of them. If you didn't know better, you'd say he feels safe around you at times.

Making a brief come hither gesture, you wink cheekily at the blue mutant. " I promise it'll be fine. You can go back to sleep when I'm done. "

Another long pause settles, his arms steadying the monster on the roof. Patience is affordable today, you can't rush this plan, after all. So you merely stand there, silently and passively exerting pressure on the garden anomaly. It always works.

In a moment, robust wings stretch and flap, as if waking themselves up as well, and Pebble gets into position, leaping from the tall roof, down onto several sections, finally landing a small distance beside you with this ground-shaking-

THUNK

Yes, being made of solid, compact stone is quite perilous... Between him and the robot, you wonder which one's mass is more destructive.

Nevertheless, with the gargoyle now approachable, you calmly stroll over and smile, taking a rough blue hand onto yours. Pebble's fingers twitch a little and he makes a curious chuff, ruby eye ever trained on you. Twin tails lash behind him when you bring the stone to your lips for a chaste kiss, his breath hitches timidly.

" Thank you. " You start, softly leading the comparatively large monster back to where you were when Colmei rejected you. The longer you walk, the more antsy your friend seems to get. " I promise I don't want anything weird. "

Lord knows the dullahan and the wraith massacred poor Pebble for details when he was formed. Just as they did Hellion, though that aptly named scoundrel has always had a lot more swipe and bite in him.

As you halt, you sadly confirm that the beekeeper is nowhere to be seen. Something that won't matter in the long run, yet still manages to peeve you a tad.

" Pebble- " You turn to the gargoyle. " Do you want to fuck me? "

For all the gentleness you had been sparing him thus far, that was quite the bold invitation.

When that red pinprick turns into an even smaller little dot in the pitch black, jagged hole of his bag, it's hard to resist cackling. He was most definitely caught off-guard, hunching, letting out a breath he had been holding. Silence ensues, though he's not stepping away, so you'll assume his libido will overpower that cowardice today. There's something almost suspicious about the way he regards you. As if he can't quite bring himself to believe you've woken him from a dead sleep... Just to fuck him.

And he's right.

You have ulterior motives, but, even if he can't tell, there are virtually no downsides to it. So you might as well have just woken him for a romp, yes.

Pebble eventually makes an unintelligible garble and twiddles his thumbs, sparing you quick glances. A sort of "Are you sure I can?" if there ever was one.

Hah, cute.

Unable to hide the mirth in your smirk, you giggle and loop your arms around the monster's hard waist, observing the fascinating way an unholy union of stone and flesh mold when his chest heaves in surprise. He's gruesome and pretty all at once, the garden did exceptionally well when it created Pebble.

" Is that a 'yes' I see? " You mock, receiving shy, unsynchronized nodding from both heads. " Good, then let's not waste any time. "

You pull the gargoyle along while taking several steps backwards, until your outfit brushes against the building's wall. Although clearly interested, Pebble never usually takes much of an initiative. Not because he doesn't want to, you can see it in the way his extremities twitch and his tails impatiently sway, it's always that unknowable fear keeping him at bay, that insecurity. It's far from a turn off though, and such is seen when you slide your work dress up, hearing him chuff at the sight of your laced panties when the fabric gathers at your hips.

Poor little baby, getting bothered already.

You do like these panties, they've been a favorite pair of yours because of how transparent they are, and many of the staff members have admired them already. You don't think Pebble has though, so you drink in his witless arousal like an impeccable wine. A gloved digit unceremoniously peels your panties to the side, and you're sure he can smell the very first hints of wetness gathering on your pussylips, because he does that distinct sort of shnort that a lot of monsters do when they sense an easy hole.

Grabbing his hand once more, you first take care to bring those clawed fingers to your mouth. Sure, it's not exactly the softest sensation gliding on your tongue, but that doesn't matter. What you want to do is get him as slippery as possible to facilitate things, and rile rouse him further. It works wonderfully in your favor, the mutant huffing and making an odd sort of impatient whimper. Your motions are lazy, making sure you have some eye contact as you intentionally let yourself drool heavily on him, strings of it already coating your chin when you make a quiet moan around his digits.

Pebble showcases a rare display of assertiveness when he ever so subtly slides more of his two fingers into your mouth, and you bob to accompany him, flustering the anomaly to stillness again. You know he'd rather have something else in there. The look of mild awe that crosses his face when you release his now soaked fingers is borderline hilarious. He plays with the drool around his digits sheepishly and you only titter quietly as you lead that very same hand to the main prize.

The gargoyle grunts, more than enjoying the softness of your already mildly interested pussy against himself. Sometimes you wonder what he thinks of others, who are so much softer than him. Does he enjoy that, their comparative warmth? Is it something he wishes he could have? You bet it feels really nice for him to lean onto his partners, sink into plush, giving bodies such as yours.

With a soft pat to the back of his palm, Pebble grasps the signal that he's meant to move, though only tentatively strokes over the length of your entrance, afraid it'll bite or something. Your patience wavers, gripping him and making harsher motions, letting him know you like to get your clit rolled hard. The mutant purrs when you let out pleased sighs, dipping into soft moans. Finally, he starts moving that big hand on his own, offering as much pleasure as he can in a slightly clumsy but very eager to please way. There's another frantic growl-keen when you buck against him. Humorously, when Pebble sinks one of his fingers into you, knuckle deep, he makes a sound as if he had sunk his whole cock into your walls, shuddering and everything.

This time, your laughter is loud and hearty, startling the mutant. " No no- " You stress when it feels as if he's going to pull away. " You're doing so well, please keep going. I can take more. "

Praise, ever the fuel for the hearts of the devoted, gets him to resume, curling his finger slightly and delighting in the unflattering wet noise that follows, before squeezing a saliva-soaked twin inside as well. You fear he's going to melt, at this rate. The small stretch has you groaning and squeezing, encouraging him to plunge into your cunt to his heart's content.

" Fuck yeah, open me up for your fat cock. "

That one apparently sent him wild, because he does just that. The haze of sleep vanishes off his body instantly, and the monster curves to be closer, watching his own blue digits get swallowed by your sweet hole, coating him in slick the harder he gives it to you. It's always a treat when Pebble's brave enough to be remotely dominant, because his natural density adds a weight to his every motion that easily rocks those subjected to them. Your head leans back and you fully give into the stings of pleasure that pierce you every so often, mouth open in a satisfied expression he's likely eating up right now.

When the gargoyle's noises become frequent and louder, you have the wherewithal to glance down, seeing the growth throbbing between his legs, dripping precum along its length and almost twitching in tandem with every clench of your cunt. He's beyond needy, and in a short span of time, which is ideal. Reeling at your own filthy little ideas, you shove his hand out of your opening and pull the monster closer. It takes a little bit for Pebble to get it, but he eventually hunches enough to make up for the height difference, such so that you can grab the head of his red, knub-adorned cock and press it to your soaked pussy.

Pebble groans incomprehensibly, immediately starting to hump, gliding that hot length across you in a way that allows you to feel every slight protrusion. You cry out and grind against each other for a couple of disgraceful, horny little moments, with you mischievously tugging at the roots of his tails just to feel the gargoyle's ass flex briefly. He's adorable.

The moment the winged monster tries to angle himself differently, obviously seeking to penetrate, you lightly push him off. Don't want to ruin the best part of the plan just yet now, do you?

Pebble whines, the spare head growls.

" Oh shush. "

You don't want to do this here, in the pavement. You're sure Pebble won't give two shits about how hard the ground is, but you'd rather not ruin your outfit or scrape yourself right now. Instead, you lead him to the closest flowerbed. As much as you'd like to playfully throw Pebble onto it, he's pretty immovable in his default state, so you can only push and ineffectively try to tickle your winged lover boy until he gets the message.

Twisted, misshapen and teeth-clad flowers unroot, scattering on strange hidden limbs with startled squeaks when the gargoyle lays on his back, wings spread and member pointing upwards. You're quick to jump onto him, and even if you spare the mutant some loving moments full of pecks to his chest and belly, even allowing him to feel your tits when you begin undoing the top part of your dress, you very quickly turn around on his lower abdomen.

He gets a fantastic view of your full ass as you grind generously over his girth, teasing the two of you further. When trembling hands scheme the globes of your behind and settle on plushy hips, you let the gargoyle ground himself, rising slightly to line yourself up with him. A tongue flicks over dry lips, eyeing the not yet fattened knot at the base of his length.

You make sure every soul in this establishment hears it when you slam yourself onto Pebble's cock.

" HNN OHHN- "

It rings out just as loudly as you wanted it to, followed by Pebble's strangled garble before he audibly gulps and seems to pause from the reaction he ripped out of you. The silence around you becomes bashful, like you rattled the building and its residents to stillness. If Santi was here, he'd commend you for the pornstar moan.

You've no doubt you've roused a couple of peepers. There's a faint tingle in the back of your mind, Krulu now tangentially paying attention to what's happening. You suppose hearing his vessel cry out like a bitch in heat out of nowhere is more than a little curious.

After that little break where you watch Pebble disappear almost entirely into you, squeezing around his hardness, feeling him buck his hips softly in desperation, you smile and let yourself go, riding him to your heart's content.

Leaning forward, hands planted firmly on his legs, you use as much force as you need to make each pound downward really count. You're not afraid of being too rough, Pebble's sturdy, he can deal with the slap of your ass on his body, with the mad squeeze of your spasming pussy around those perfect bumps, stopping periodically just to grind and rip more filthy noises out of yourself.

He tries, boy does he try to do anything, but you're too much for him. Too confident, too hot, too wet and welcoming. Pebble can only whimper out nonsensical pleas, heaving and panting hard enough you can hear his paper bags crumple when his teeth accidentally catch them. He groans and drools, not that you can see the small pool of it between his tits as he watches your gorgeous form bounce, fruitlessly attempting to feed into your merciless rhythm but getting completely overpowered in seconds.

You almost wish you could see his fucked out state for yourself, the mental images accompanying each frantic little noise of his having you gasping and crying out.

" Fffuck yes, you're such a good boy for me, aren't you? " You coo in-between pants of slight effort. " You'll let me ride you anywhere, won't you, sweetheart? Anything to get your cock wet, huh? "

Pebble's responding sound is like a slurred, low moan, legs jerking and tails spasming while the dick inside you throbs so hard you thought he was going to cum for a second there. In fact, for a couple of completely lust-drunk moments, you totally forget what you're doing. Sure, you're ridding the lights out of this gargoyle, but what for anymore...?

As if fate heard said thought, a soft buzz jolts your memory.

In the very same corner he had once disappeared to, stands none other than Colmei, watching like a little voyeur. And you don't doubt he's not the only one right now, but he's the peeping Tom you were specifically looking forward to.

The beekeeper stands warily, wings moving rapidly behind his back in what must only equate to excitement, claws tugging anxiously at his own garbs, which happen to be hilariously tented where his engorged cock bulges with need, already staining those ash-colored robes into a depraved wet mess.

Although you can't tell for sure, you'd bet that mask-clad gaze is fixed on the sway of your tits and the sight of your hungry cunt swallowing Pebble without rest. You make it a point to sit up slightly so he can see better.

Good, perfect, watch and drool, little freak. This is what he declined. It could be him beneath you now, if he wasn't such a dumbass earlier. It could be him twisting and arching like Pebble on the ground, warbling for more and more and harder-

You force yourself to think clearly, halting things to a crawl.

The gargoyle's infuriated snarl dies into a miserable sob, one of his arms leaving you to punch down on the grass beside him. He makes another distressed bray, and while you understand his pain perfectly, you need to focus now.

" Quiet. Patience. " It was an order. And, admittedly, he's very obedient about it, murmuring his displeasure when you slap his thigh softly. Ouch.

Your previous hammering becomes a slow, luscious roll of the hips, gloves removed so you can feel yourself up for the peeper's viewing pleasure. He takes a small step forward, clearly wanting to approach, but still held back by something that is honestly starting to infuriate you.

" Colmei... " You moan at the next surge of pleasure.

The beekeeper shivers and seems to wake at the call. You don't miss Pebble's confused grunt at you calling out someone else's name.

In a vaguely childish gesture, you pout and make grabby hands at the darker monster, stopping to play with your breasts, rolling them together just to thrill, casting Colmei the most needful look you can muster.

His resolve visibly falters, the clear invitation having him frozen mid-step.

" Please... Comei. "

Oh, nothing can curb the Cheshire grin that spreads so eagerly on your cheeks, splitting them, when the insectoid monster caves.

He does the walk of shame over to you, as he should, arm over his blatant erection and posture like that of a bashful mutt getting caught in the trash can. Only now does Pebble, still impatiently trying to get some friction started, realize someone else is getting closer. The gargoyle lifts his heads behind you, offering a strange sort of snort-chuff at Colmei.

" Hey now. " You warn.

The two of them have gotten along on several occasions, though the mutant is clearly interpreting the beekeeper's presence as that of a challenger. As if Colmei's going to yank you off him and dash away. You suppose this can be new for them both.

" I'm not going anywhere. " You assure Pebble, tossing him a look. The gargoyle murmurs, slightly placated.

When Colmei halts in front of you, it's not too hard to get him to roll his robes up, his pretty pitch black cock bobbing in anticipation, the male's breath clipped. Before even so much as reaching for him, you offer a skeptical, challenging glance.

Are you going to be difficult now?

Colmei appears to interpret the basic gist of it well-enough, buzzing quietly and bending big legs slightly so his offering is properly reachable. If that's not a pathetic beg, then you don't know what is.

" Mmm, are you sure? "

He makes another droning noise, this one climbing to high sputtering, almost like an apology, regret. Good. In his desperation, Colmei allows his tip to poise on your lips, spreading a bead of something so sweet your eyes widen when you swipe your tongue across it. Huh. You pat the small pocket on the side of your bunched up dress, finding the small vial still secured there.

Beneath you, Pebble seems about ready to burst out crying, hips starting to buck uselessly even if he's been told to behave. Poor thing, you figure you've tortured him enough. Knowing it's going to take a bit of coordination, you reach around to find the blue monster's hands, urging him to bend slightly so he can grab your waist, moving them, letting the gargoyle know he should use you however he pleases. Immediately, he starts bouncing you quickly, little rabbit thrusts that have you rocking slightly and laughing amidst the jolts of sensation now reawakening.

Redirecting your attention to Colmei, you make sure he's watching when you lace both hands on his length, motions a lot more practiced than his, letting him know that ambiguous pawing won't get him anywhere. The beekeeper's whole body rattles in a visceral shiver, you're able to see the muscles of his legs tense and his lower abdomen tighten as he discovers a brand new world of pleasure. Hopefully, he'll learn from this. The monster coos something in a fast staccato, a lot more active than Pebble, thrusting into your grip and huffing every time you stop to circle cruelly over his tip.

With so much curiosity biting at you, it doesn't take long before you're putting soft lips against him again, trailing a stripe from the root of his dick to the head, marveling at the slightly musky taste of his skin. The beekeeper instinctually holds onto your head, making a low, shocked sort of hum the second you take him in properly- Treated to the view of you slowly sinking more of him into your mouth, a playful tongue feeling around as he gets into your throat.

Thank Krulu for his training and body modifications. You'd be a little upset if you couldn't take him all in.

Colmei rattles with pleasure the moment he's fully enveloped by the warmth of your gulping maw, twitching inside you, shuddering when his balls brush your chin. Speaking of, might as well play around while you can. One hand grabs his leg for support, the other thumbs and rolls his nuts, if only just to hear his breath hitch again. Pebble, who unbeknownst to you has been watching the entire exchange, finally starts fucking you onto him properly- Perhaps out of jealousy that his neighbor is getting twofold your attention.

It's very easy for him to lift you, most monsters find the majority of humans easy to maneuver, though being made of such hard material definitely helps. The pleasant surprise of getting hammered onto his length has you moaning gleefully around Colmei, who begins moving as well, careful enough not to let you slip off him. While the gargoyle seems to be quickly recovering that previously lost climb, making self-satisfied noises at the vocalizations he elicits from you, Colmei is only starting to get into what might be his first oral servicing, snapping angrily at the blue mutant whenever he gets rowdy enough to nearly displace you.

" Hahh... Getting close? " You call to Pebble, able to slip off Colmei's cock for a moment to catch your breath.

Strings of drool mixed with excessively viscous precum cling to your jaw, the beekeeper's too restless to stay still, rubbing his wet cock on your cheek while you wait for a response. Your stone-hard sybian nods feverishly, a guilty noise echoing.

" That's fine, sweetie, don't hold back. "

You can barely finish the sentence before Colmei's trying to angle himself into your mouth again, throwing a glare at the beekeeper. Nonetheless, Pebble understands, and he rumbles out in delight, now pounding you from below with a vengeance that has you comically bobbing and gagging onto the insectoid without much work. Between the slap of your ass on him, the wetness of your cunt getting bred and the slurp of your lips around the other's cock- You don't even know which is more obscene.

It's easy to slip into a pleasured trance, skin erupting into goosebumps as you're used and loved on by the two, hands dropping to feel your own breasts and glide down your inner thighs, rolling your clit appeasingly. There are many, many benefits to your job, the best of them of course being fulfilling Lord Krulu's will- But sometimes, you think getting to service and show love to those sworn to him is up there in terms of reward. The rush of your approaching orgasm has you mewling sweetly, clenching increasingly hard around Pebble in an attempt to keep him snug inside you, kissing all the deepest parts of your core.

Apparently, that does the trick for the gargoyle.

Because he strangles out a snarl of rapture and sinks you fully onto him, claws tightening on your skin in pure instinct, keeping you screwed onto his fattening cock as that delicious knot begins to swell to its full potential. The stretch is harsh, unforgiving and burning hot but so, so worth it just to have it crush your most sensitive spots, pressuring, throbbing. You come hard the moment a burst of thick steaming gargoyle seed paints your walls, coating you, claiming you, filling you so nicely. The weight settles on your lower abdomen and you drool on Colmei's thick cock in glee, pussy pulsing for more. Pebble purrs loudly, previously clenched claws now stroking lovingly over your sides, tails swatting as he relaxes, with his still weakly spurting shaft lodged firmly within you.

" Good boy! Good job, you did so well! " You praise him, feeling his thighs flex briefly while he murrs and croons his gratitude.

That leaves the bee collector, who you can now focus fully on, lavishing him from top to bottom like the sweetest lollipop out there. And, admittedly, he is quite sugary to the taste. There's a playful perking of your lips as you teasingly mouth around his head again, flirting with his hole, leaning away when Colmei tries to push more into you. The male grunts, then makes a sound like a dying keen, cock jumping and balls tightening.

It seems maybe he does have a thing for edging. Perhaps that's why he takes so long to bring himself to orgasm, he does it deliberately, the little pervert. And now he's loving it when someone else does it to him. Hah.

Now that Pebble's down for the count and you've had your fun, you can afford to play with Colmei like he's no more than an interesting toy. He'll twitch and beg in that ceaseless humming, but all you ever do is lick, kiss and nudge at him, occasionally dipping to take some of his length down- You make the beekeeper belive that you'll swallow him to the base anew only to pop lewdly off him not even halfway there and chuckle.

He pulses so hard you're impressed he didn't climax right then and there.

Enough is enough however, you're starting to get sore from having your knees bent for so long. In a gluttonous fit, you suck Colmei down like he's the last male on Earth, ripping a grunt-hiss of shock out of him before he grabs your head sternly and fucks into your face with enough strength to hurt your nose briefly.

The hive guardian begins cumming down your throat alarmingly quick. The resulting substance is extremely thick and hard to swallow, sticking to your throat in a way that forces you to instinctively cough and sputter globs of his own jizz back around his member. Colmei only appears to thrill further at the sight.

With a couple of sharp jerks and warning sounds, you're finally able to rip your head off the beekeeper's grasp, tasting his seed for the first time. And even though the distinct flavor of what can only be honey is quite surprising -If not ironically hilarious- You're hurriedly fishing the vial out so you can collect a fair amount of Colmei's seed. A somewhat contaminated sample, sure, but it's better than nothing.

In his post-nut bliss, the monster doesn't really care as to why you're gathering his fluids, merely buzzing pleasantly, wings erratically flicking. His last few shots drip down your neck and coat your exposed tits. The cheeky fuck has the gall to try to wipe his cock on your face, met with a cautionary pinch from your part.

It must be some kind of honey. It tastes exactly like it. Even the color is that of a rich, glazed hue. Maybe this can even be profitable!

The vial is lowered to the ground, all three of you relaxing in the relative silence of the garden under a satisfying haze. Colmei pulls his robes down and squats before you, mask set aside safely so three roving tongues can weasel across your skin, licking the side of your neck and chin, cleaning you of his own savory mess. Behind you, the gargoyle rises as well, with a slight wince from the jostling of his sensitive cock in you, a fatter and less slimy muscle laving at your shoulder and dipping between your stained tits.

You sigh happily, slumping onto Pebble and letting the two sweethearts take care of your tired figure.

Mission accomplished.

#Beekeeper boie #Pebble oc #monsterfucker #terato #monster x reader #monster smut #terat0philliac #monster boyfriend #MINORS DNI #not sfw

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eldritch-spouse · 11 months

Text

[Part 6 of Gifted. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Try to lure the gargoyle (65.3%)

TW: Mild exhibitionism; Soft cum inflation.

New choice! [VOTE]

You can't help but think that pompous-looking blabbermouth isn't going to be of much help, especially not in the sour disposition he sports.

That leaves only one option- Paper bags McGee. Here goes nothing.

" Psst-! " You start, glancing hurriedly between his shadowed figure and the other two.

The gargoyle definitely hears you, pinprick eyes laser focused on you. Both heads look this way and that, even if the other one has no discernable hole to see through. It occurs to you it's a nervous tic, because he's trying to decide which direction to flee in. No, you can't let him leave! He's your only hope right now.

" Pspspspsps... " You don't know how to convince him, there's nothing on your person you can bribe him with. Even if you wanted to use your body as a lure, you can't convey that to him bound as you currently are.

The gargoyle starts to turn around hurriedly.

" No no hey-! " You strain upwards, as if that would help him hear your desperate whisper-screaming better. " Please- Get me out of here, please!

The head with that pinprick red pupil turns to glance at you again. You have no idea what to tell him, you're begging the monster, in total despair and hopelessness, there is nothing more you can do aside from helplessly and silently pleading with him.

Apparently, the monster can read the terror written all over you features, brought to stillness by the urgency you exhibit. It strikes him, for some reason. Spotting this, you try to exaggerate your expression, feeling like the bat you rode to climax only some time ago.

" ... Please... I'm scared. "

It takes a couple of seconds, during which you can feel sweat condensating on your forehead. Just buy it already, you oversized pussy of brute. Slowly, he turns back around on the roof and disappears into the darkness.

Did... Did he actually leave? Seriously?! After you got so close-

THUMP

You almost scream.

Heart skipping several beats -God, that can't be healthy- You get the urge to weep from joy once you spot that pinprick red glow emanating from the shadows. He landed! He's on the floor.

" Yes! " You murmur to yourself, watching the blue monster cautiously approach. He could be coming to tear you in two, for all your really know, but you'll take your chances at this point.

" Quickly! "

Casting one fearful glance at the caped demon, the gargoyle springs to action when he turns to apparently confiscate something off the small imp beside him.

He puts his palms on your legs very tentatively, as if afraid you'll bark at him. Curious. When he tugs, your body can only follow so far, as the strange construct keeping you tied to the bench protests. He puts two and two together fast, edging hard hands upwards before giving a harsh yank that you know is going to bruise later. But it does work, something snaps behind you with a wet noise, and you feel the binds around your upper body loosen to a degree.

For someone who was moving so slowly before, you're dragged off the bench and lumped onto his stony shoulder -Oof!- Faster than anticipated. God damn, he's more solid than you guessed! It's hard to think that something so heavy and dense can move exactly like flesh. You wish your hands were free so you could better gouge the texture of this peculiar skin.

As is, all you can do is try not to scream and trust the monster to have a good grip of you as he prepares to take flight. Now that you think about it, his wings should be a little bigger for his size, shouldn't they? They look... Underdeveloped. Well, you doubt any sort of benevolent god will listen, but you're just about ready to start praying for the best. Because, if he drops you from a decent height, without arms to brace important areas, you'll surely die.

Biting your lip is what grants you enough dignity to not make a scene, muffling the scream that would otherwise startle him into dropping you. The monster's grip on your waist is secure however.

His flight is clumsy and terrifying, as you can very clearly sense him dangerously losing balance at several points, tense like a spring and sweating up a storm while the monster visibly struggles, his little wings trying their best to carry not just him -Already quite the burden- But also you. At some point, you merely close your eyes. Whatever happens happens. Perhaps that's why he was hesitant to come down, he knew he'd have trouble getting back up.

Now more than ever, the chill in the air gets to you, skin covered in goosebumps while he scrabbles to find purchase and lands with less grace than a newborn gazelle. Unlatched from the monster's hold, you're gently deposited on mildly soft, foreign material. Confusion has you finally cracking an eye open.

You must be on the roof, the darkened tiles around confirm it, not to mention how the fog seems thicker from this height. A curious glance down reveals you've been sat on what you think is meant to be nest. Sticks, foreign fur, feathers and several cloths bundled together make up a rather large "bedding", nestled on a corner of a flat part of the roof which then elevates into another gable roof. If you were a gargoyle, you'd probably pick this spot too.

Speaking of, your rescuer, it seems, is apparently stuck staring at you like a deer in headlights.

You can just about see the gears turning in those heads. He got you up here, but he didn't think ahead too much. Obviously, it's imperative you don't let him linger in this contemplative state. He might get funny ideas and dump you back onto the ground, or decide to kill you.

In this proximity, you can finally gouge what the reddish things around his necks is supposed to be. A collar. Does... Is he someone's pet? But he's no animal! He's so much smarter than one, if this monster were no more than a beast, then surely none of this would have transpired, you'd be a bloody stain on the bench by now. Weird. Squinting, you strain to read what's written on the shiny metal tag.

" Pebble. " You start.

Pebble. Pebble? Are you fucking serious? What a name, a snort almost makes it past your lips. Yeah right, he's totally the size of one. The winged monster tenses at the mention of his name.

" Can you please help me out of these? " You flex your arms for emphasis, displaying the strange growths that are reluctant to free you even after being torn moments ago.

Pebble examines the weirdly-colored masses with as much puzzlement as you, exchanging a couple of anxious looks with you before raising one large stoned arm and swiping it down. The speed of it has you wincing and reclining your neck, thankfully not harmed, though the biological constructs around your upper body squirm and... Squeak? Before flopping apart. The opportunity is seized to roll your joints and expand your ribcage, instead of questioning what the Hell those things are.

Seemingly subscribing to your logic, Pebble doesn't give the pinkish things much thought either, grabbing them by the edges as they bleed something unknown onto the roof and flicking them away. One of the longer pieces is launched at another stray gargoyle who wandered a touch too close for Pebble's liking, being met with hissing and guttural snarling from the monster who you have only seen cowering up until now. Huh.

The other gargoyle snorts at the hit and scurries off. How odd, it was smaller than Pebble. Less shapely too, more grayish. You suppose there must be a wild variety of gargoyles out there, just as there are slimes of every shape and color. Seeing your alleged rescuer from the back reveals that, along with two heads, he sports two thin spade-tipped tails.

Well, you're free of binds now, but not exactly free to leave. After all, there's no way you can jump down from this height without breaking something. And even if you did manage to land without immediate skeletal damage, the chances of there being grubby hands out to catch you are high. Just the mental image of being snatched and tugged at by all ends as monsters fight over who gets to keep you is horrid enough to make sure you stay seated firmly in Pebble's wide nest. It's not like you trust yourself to scale the roof either. You're stuck. Back to square one.

God damn it.

Your sigh alerts the other one, who instantly turns to keep you fully in his gaze. Once more, he's nervously appraising you. What is he- Scared you'll bite him? Who hurt this monster so bad that he'll tremble before a little human like you?

Still determined to not let him think over the situation for too long, you extend a hand and sedately reach for one of his. The movement is slow enough that Pebble can reject it at any moment, yet he merely appears to tense, anticipation and dread visibly warring within him.

Soft fingers prod over what feels like solid stone but moves like real skin. You tickle at his palm absent-mindedly, marveling at the way creases of what would be skin still form when he twitches his fingers. Amazing. Apparently, the contact soothes the gargoyle, or maybe incites his own brand of curiosity, because he's closing the distance.

Sniffing rings out when the monster gets close, heads hovering over your own, leaning this way and that as the monster clearly tries to profile you via scent. You can only imagine you reek of Grimbly, sweat and sex. But who knows, maybe he's picking up on something else. Your hair fans out while he takes his time, chest expanding. Not the most pleasant of breaths, but it could be worse. Mostly, you have no issues staying still while the gargoyle familiarizes himself, going as far as to giggle when he starts to prod at your face and neck, paper bags crumpling.

You won't lie, a bit of a thrill starts taking hold of you when his increasingly eager exploration leads the gargoyle to loom over your front, body casting a great shadow upon you, wings spreading, as he shoves his heads onto your chest and abdomen. You can feel hard structures poking your skin where there's contact. Perhaps it's his teeth, or nose. You have no idea what his faces look like, and you're far from brave enough to dare lift those bags. It doesn't seem like a good idea to test your luck in a place that's so very eager to sink its claws into your neck.

Your giggling appears to please the monster, though it soon tapers off into a gasp as something slimy flattens over your dress. From beneath the bag with no holes on the front hangs a surprisingly long tongue, dribbling like a faulty faucet while he tastes the fabric of your clothes. You can't imagine it's particularly pleasant... The muscle trails a path up and dips into your cleavage for a second, causing you to squirm and heat up again. Fast. Your reactions are always too fast and you're not very keen on this jarring loss of control. It's as if every time someone comes along and brushes over you, you can't help but light up, set aflame instantly.

" P- Pebble... "

You don't really know what you're asking him for. Nor do you care to linger on that muddled thought.

The gargoyle, having become nothing short of enthusiastic in the brief time he took to smell you, dips to your nethers, clumsily prodding at your legs until you uncross them on his nest. You know you're starting to get wet, there's no use denying it, you're not yourself today and your body merely reflects it. Both heads seem to war for which one gets to stuff itself against your shielded cunt, his tails dance and twine with each other in the air. Well, if he's content to just fondle you through your clothes, it's far from the worst thing that's happened today. So there's that.

Of course, after all that has transpired, you'd be a fool to place any sort of merit to that statement. Because, predictably, when Pebble straightens up, you spot a fat length between his legs. In great contrast to the gargoyle's pretty azure tint, his cock is a bright red hue that stands out like a sore thumb. Knubs adorn it, along with what you can only assume is a worryingly-sized knot sitting comfortably on the root of that throbbing thing. It's... Well, like most of the monsters who have taken a liking to you today, nothing to sneeze at. Nevertheless, in that moment, you know this stone giant won't rest until he gets more.

The gargoyle seems to be thinking, though less nervously so for once. You're not too sure what's going through his head, considering the monster hasn't spoken a word to you thus far -Maybe it can't- But he nods to himself on both ends after a while. You're only privy to the meaning of such when Pebble grabs the hem of your dress and, instead of tearing it off as you expected, drapes it over his upper half.

Oh-kay...

Crawling forward, the bulky monster makes himself at home right between your legs, face to face with your uncovered pussy, you imagine. Another weird snort sniff noise and, a blue hand crawls upwards too, and you finally realize why he's doing things like this. When the sound of paper rustling is heard, you know he has edged those bags out of the way. Well then, that's one way to deal with timidity. Is what lies beneath those rudimentary coverings truly so horrible? You'd best not wonder.

Or rather, you're not given time to wonder.

The same tongue that sampled you once before now returns with a fervor, edging up your right thigh before slapping onto your cunt. It circles around your entrance, perhaps afraid of something for a brief moment, then flirts with the wetness you've been trying to ignore. Pebble makes a loud rumble, which tapers off into a gleeful moan. Thankfully, he's gentle when he slides a good chunk of his tongue up your used pussy. It's strange- Although he comes off as inexperienced, his demeanor isn't brutish, which is something you can appreciate after today's events.

As life has it lately, your inner monolog jinxes you.

Because Pebble finds a particular taste inside your walls. Something that definitely belongs to the pretty boy you railed on a certain bench. His immediate chuff is ambiguous, your legs are pushed further apart and the gargoyle starts eating you out ravenously. Thighs twitching and arms trembling, you have nothing to hold onto but the protrusions of his horns, grasping them for balance through the thin dress fabric while you moan quietly.

Perhaps eating you out isn't the best description, it feels more as if he's cleaning you out. Removing the mark of the male that claimed you prior. The drool he ends up slathering you in during such efforts is cold, coating your nethers and staining his nest as you squirm. Between his eager panting, your whining and the wet claps of flesh of flesh, you can only hope the bystanders below are oblivious to what's happening.

Not that you honestly care too much at this point. It's just an afterthought for your own safety.

Needily bucking your hips onto the monster's tongue is met with a distorted purr as both heads nuzzle against you, odd shapes poking at soft skin. Misaligned teeth perhaps? If so, he's being very gentle not to nick you on them. Something else joins the commotion beneath your pink dress. Ah, his other tongue? Right, he does have two heads, that makes sense.

The appendage, just as slimy as its twin, trails a path up the opposite leg and slobbers the side of your now quivering pussy, denied entrance by its twin as of now. Perhaps for the best, you don't know if you can take two of those fat tongues at once. Instead, it samples everything around itself, from outer lips to wedging itself between your cheeks and circling the rim of your ass, then snaking a sloppy path back up to slurp above. When it nudges your clit, somehow not exhausted after all this time, you jerk up and gasp, an incoherent noise leaving you as you tug one of the heads closer by its horns.

He misinterprets it as pain, whining out in what you assume is meant to be an apology and beginning to retract said tongue.

" Wait- Wait no, that's good! K-Keep going. "

Fortunately, he does, rather clumsily experimenting with different patterns around your button while the other muscle resumes its cleaning, a surprising level of coordination between the two movements.

The rest of the world melts off your mind in the midst of this mildly gross, but relentless attention to your womanhood. Your soft noises of approval are eaten up by the large gargoyle, whose tails swat and thump at the roof. At some point, you catch sight of his hips moving, and realize the poor thing is so excited he's basically humping the air, panting and shuddering against your pussy, the humidity and warmth accumulating beneath your dress making you sweat. You don't think Pebble gets a lot of attention from others here, he's acting like it at least. Those aimless pumps get you to giggle in between whining.

His tongue retracts from your now clenching hole and the other takes its place, only to slip out a while later. You realize, with a bit of amusement, that he's using both to eat you out, the greedy mutt. Where one darts in, the other waits for its turn, creating a rhythm you didn't think could feel as amazing as it does. God fuck, you're going to come. It's no surprise you're getting worked up so fast either, after the tryst with the waiter that left you high and dry.

One of your hands hurriedly darts to reach under your dress, searching frantically for the monster's own stony one, intending to teach him to flick your clitoris while he works. When it accidentally brushes the side of one of his paper bags however, Pebble chokes and snarls gutturally. You know the sound was aggressive, but your cunt clenched hard, the vibrations rocking your entire body and dragging a jarring orgasm out of you.

The howl you release to the wind is shameful, loud enough that some of the murmuring coming from below pauses entirely, people presumably left confused, or maybe wondering where the show is taking place... You couldn't give less of crap about what's happening below, too busy arching in the gargoyle's mess of a nest and bucking your hips into his faces while he slurps at everything you have to give him. Pebble rumbles in excitement, though slips off your entrance far too quick for your liking, leaving you to pulse through some ripples of pleasure all empty.

The groan of displeasure you make at having a high cut short is interrupted by the monster's intense purring rumble as he uses both heads to nudge you onto your back on his now soaked nest, headbutting you insistently when you merely sway.

" Alright alright okay- " You acquiesce, hormone-drunk, without even thinking too hard about what he wants.

The moment your head rests on that mess of cloths and feathers, you yawn and stretch, laughing quietly when all the gargoyle does for a moment is observe your lying figure, tails wagging and cock throbbing. It's oddly adorable, as if he's wondering how he got a catch like you on his nest.

In a blink however, the male finally decides what to do, grabbing you by the thighs and dragging you closer. Alarm bells start ringing when he pushes your legs up, raising your ass off the nest and pushing them towards your upper body in a position that you worry might strain your back. " H-Hey now? " You call, offering the monster a gaze that implores his caution.

You realize the type of position he's going for when he squats above you, veiled faces peering down at your small frame above the stone hills that are his tits -He's massive and this view really accentuates it- A swollen red cock parked on your outer lips. You're not sure how much you trust this gargoyle not to harm you in this vulnerable position.

" L- Look at me. " You start, balling your dress up at your waist and keeping yourself as well balanced on the edge of his nest as you can. The monster tilts both heads, listening. " Be gentle, o-okay? Slow. Play nice. "

Slightly fearful hues dart between his glowing crimson eye and the length pulsing on your core. You don't think this stone being has the sadism necessary to pull a stunt like Morell, but you have to gouge him anyway. After a couple of tense seconds, Pebble chuffs and nods, wings flapping sporadically as he readjusts.

You get to see the muscles of thoses powerful legs tense when he lines the tip of his cock up and starts pushing, trembling as your pussy welcomes him with few stings of pain at the stretch, having already been thoroughly worked out for the day. Nonetheless, he's still quite girthy, each ridge bumping inside you with each quick little hump he makes to bury his whole cock inside your warmth. Well, most of it, that bulb at the root remains untouched. You can't help but think it'd be easier to take if it wasn't so swollen already.

Pebble makes garbled low cries from both heads at the sensation of being enveloped, squeezing at your legs to ground himself for a heaving moment. He glances down for a second, making sure you're okay it seems, gratified by your teary-eyed, needy expression. Each sweetly torturous drag of his length on your walls is experimental, but the male quickly finds his rhythm the wetter you get, having no issue holding his own weight as he begins to piston down.

Each thrust is deep. Pebble seems reluctant to remove most of his dick from the tight hole he's found, more intent on grinding and rutting desperately than going for deeper, more languid motions. And you can't blame the guy, he seems beyond excited to have anyone in his nest, probably too giddy to drag things out too.

Your earlier doubts considering the safety of this position fade away to nothing but bliss as you realize he's hitting a lot deeper than what's expected, his tip kissing wonderful spots that have your toes curling and brows furrowing, head tossed to let out clipped appreciation noises. Sure, it's a little harder to breathe, but fuck if it isn't worth it. Maybe the gargoyle knows exactly what he's doing, maybe he just enjoys the view. When droplets of his drool fall onto your cheek and neck, you presume it's a bit of both.

The monster's ragged panting turns to strained growls as he picks up the pace, now truly pistoning with the great power behind those taught legs, claws scraping the tiles of the roof for better purchase.

" O- Ohh fff- Ah! Deep! " Is the stellar commentary you have to offer, the gentle nudges of before becoming a relentless hammering of several bundles of nerves that have you twitching and blinking stupidly, lost in a barrage of sensation.

Between his occasional mewled groan, slapping and flapping wings, you can hear the repeated jingling of the dog tag on his collar, bouncing with each rut. It brings you out of the experience for a brief second, giving way for a faint level of awareness in which your sixth sense blares warning sirens. It takes a bit, but your skin breaks out in goosebumps when instincts tell you something's looming, watching.

Frantic eyes dart around, vision somewhat impaired by the blur of your form being jostled by Pebble's enthusiastic fucking, but there, on the wall that escalates into the top roof, is a tall window. From behind it stands a silent figure, witness to the debauchery happening far too close. Your already overheated body sets ablaze the second you recognize who it is. The cloaked guy from before, the one who found you alongside Grimbly. God damn it, he just has to be everywhere, doesn't he?

His head tilts, and you can tell he's somehow returning your eye contact intensely.

It's hard to imagine what must be going through his head, seeing you get tossed around between his coworkers like a free use toy -Which, let's face it, in the current state of things that is essentially what you've become- Only to end up sprawled out on the roof, being bred silly by a bizarre gargoyle. What does he think of you? It seemed like he wanted to take you away for himself earlier, maybe he's upset. Or maybe he's just really into the view. When Pebble bucks especially hard, you moan and flutter around him, making the monster speed his thrusts even more, bending over you slightly. A drawn-out sort of hum has strands of drool hanging dangerously close to your face again.

When you have the composure to search for the window again, still finding the voyeur there, the bump in his robes definitely doesn't go unnoticed. You hate that it only excites you further, that the pleasant shock of his presumed size is written all over your face. As if some part of your lower brain expects him to climb out the fucking window and shove himself in your mouth. You're depraved.

Sharp as he appears to be, the hooded figure knows exactly where you're looking with those glazed eyes, ash-colored fingers flirting with his own covered length before you. It's a promise. It's a filthy little lure- And if Pebble wasn't plowing you so good, you'd probably have crawled the roofs on your own for him.

Speaking of, he's getting a little too rough. Or maybe you're just sore and finally beginning to feel it all, it's hard to tell.

" Hahn- Slow down- Slow boy- Nnh fuck! "

He's not listening, even when you drag a hand up the gargoyle's hard abdomen, trying to ground the softly growling thing, all he does is lean into the touch and strain to fuck you deeper, probably taking the contact as encouragement. And, honestly, when the waves of a rapidly building orgasm start rocking you again, it's hard to care. Groping at the monster while he stretches you out is more gratifying. You're licking your lips in anticipation when the glow coming from his paper bag veil brightens and he seems to steam hot puffs of breath out, fanning the edges of the thin tissue.

Pebble isn't asking you for permission, but you nod at him anyway. He makes a strangled bray that quickly becomes a howl, and fucks down with a force that leaves you winded. There's a pause, and for a couple of vapid seconds, you don't quite grasp why he stopped moving, and why he isn't filling you yet. Then the pressure starts.

Your eyes bulge, and only now do you recall the shape stationed at his base, the thing he's now trying to push into you. Naturally, hormones and slight dread have you squirming under the monster, wondering if that's safe at all to take, but the gargoyle has an iron grip of your legs, giving out warning chuffs.

" Wait! Wait wait wait- PEBBLE! "

You scream to the skies as soon as soon as he forces the entire thing in with one devastating blow, popping that fat knot into your cunt mercilessly. The stimulation is so fast and so intense that your second orgasm hits you like a punch to the gut, rendering you a squealing, mewling mess around the other. Pebble makes his own desperate noises of approval, his entire girth seeming to pulse and throb inside you -Knot included- As what you can only describe as a torrent of cum washes your insides. He grinds himself aimlessly in the midst of both your highs, slowly, so as to not overstimulate himself.

As you lay there, legs twitching and heaving for breath, the gargoyle reaches a shaky arm out to pet you on the head soothingly. He looks aware that this is hard to handle for a human, wanting to reward you in some way or another. The fact that he seemingly keeps cumming should worry you, yet the arousal lingering within you welcomes everything he has to offer.

Predictably, when the frenzy of lust starts dying down and you both have recovered a fair amount, you look at your visibly swollen womb and pale a couple shades. Holy shit that's all him, that's way too much... He's not in heat, is he? You can feel it all pooling inside your body, a foreign weighted warmth. Comforting in an obscene way.

The exhaustion of being in this position for a prolonged amount of time starts getting to you in a couple of minutes, at which you tap Pebble's leg. He appears to get the message, but instead of pulling out, he whines and readjusts, letting you rest more of your body on the nest while he blankets your body. Much to your increasing surprise, Pebble extends his small wings and uses them to shield you from the world, resting his upper body onto you.

Is he... Is he just not going to pull out?

Given his massive weight, even if the monster's taking care not to crush his little nest mate, he's in no position to be dislodged. When his breathing slows, you grow alarmed. If the gargoyle decides to settle down and sleep now, how are you supposed to find your way back down, without severely injuring yourself that is?

" Hey. Hey now, Pebble. " He doesn't give much of a response beyond chuffing. " Pull out, please. " When there's no reaction, you assume he's blatantly ignoring you.

Annoyed, you actively start trying to squirm from beneath the gargoyle, though immediately, he makes a sharp cry of pain, the noise turning into a vicious snarl while he yanks you back into place, claws making it extremely clear you are not to move a single fucking millimeter. Alright, okay, message received.

Right. The knot... It's even more swollen inside of you now, plugging everything, there's no way you'll slip off it any time soon.

" Alright, o-okay okay! " Palms up seems to do the trick, placating him.

The gargoyle hums, veering his body slighlty to the side so as to not crush your ribcage when he settles down to rest. You groan, resigned to being trapped.

Time passes. As always, you can't be sure how much. It could be minutes, it could be hours. You can't sleep, not after falling unconscious several times. Instead, you stare at the sky, watching it get darker and darker, until the stars become visible behind the warp of the fog that seems to shroud this foreign establishment. Moving is a terrible idea. Even if your legs are going numb and you're the furthest thing from comfortable, the smallest shift might trigger another fit from him.

It's not your immediate safety that has you concerned about the events. After all, he's shielding you somewhat, and Pebble is significantly bigger than the other gargoyle you saw, so chances are you're much safer on this roof than you would be on the ground, where people have gathered. Of course, you're not exactly thrilled by the notion that your goal of making it out of here is getting delayed further, slipping out of your fingers the more you stall, like grains of sand.

Pebble sleeps, both heads snoring softly beside you, tails twitching, hips occasionally rutting. In a moment of blind hope, your head snaps up to search for the tall window from before, praying the hooded figure is still there. It's completely abandoned. Figures, that would be too easy.

Having nothing to do and no means to pass the time, you fantasize about what you would rather be doing, what you need to do as soon as you make it out of this blasted place -If you ever do, a small voice pipes up. What kind of therapy can help you get over this? Have you been changed forever? Would people believe you?

Is this real?

The sound of sudden loud flapping has you wide alert. Brought out of focus, you can't tell where or who it's coming from, so you cling to Pebble's back in fear. Perhaps it's another gargoyle, having come to pick at the scraps. Your scared whimper causes the male to stir awake as well, making disgruntled sounds when something lands not too far away.

A pallid white figure dressed in black.

It's only after a pause of vapid squinting that your brain registers who that is. The angel. Or, at least, that's the only thing you can think to compare him to. He's a mystery to you, only recalling vague instances of his demeanor, when the day was still young and you had been spit out onto the floor by a startled mimic.

He stands straight, a firm grip on his staff, three eyes scrutinizing the sight before him silently. Not that there's much complexity to it, you're being held captive in the nest of the gargoyle that happily bred you stupid. Now that you're getting a second look at the guy, the feathers on his wings are as white as the ones on Pebble's nest. They know each other? Well, if the two-headed monster isn't freaking out, you'll assume so.

He is tense however, it's hard not to sense that when he's glued to your front.

" For goodness' sake- " A lightly furred hand drags down his peculiarly shaped face. " This is where I find you, of all places? "

The fucking nerve of this dude.

It was either the gargoyle or the spiky-haired demon that looked more likely to use you as a human carpet than be remotely helpful. He's looking at you as if you decided to come here of your own volition, to get roped into a bunch of sexual escapades for funsies- Like it's a hobby of yours.

" ... Would you rather find me dead in your cook's kitchen? Torn to pieces in this garden? " Hiding the snark in your tone proves itself to be harder than expected.

He glares at you, a decidedly intense look that inspires a primal wave fear in your body. " Quiet. " The angel's attention shifts to your nest-partner. " Pebble. Release the woman. "

Pebble's only reaction is to stare at the other monster and clutch you closer to a sturdy body. Something about the red dot that comprises his eye reads as a warning.

The angel scoffs. " Don't be ridiculous, come now. We don't have time for this. "

When he steps forward, he's instantly greeted with a nasty, vicious rattle of a snarl that has you freezing for a long moment. Jesus fuck, so that's what he sounds like when he's actually angry.

The angel reels back, lavender eyes widened in shock and mild hurt, though humorously, his chest appears to puff in an instinctual response to the aggressive call. " Pebble?! What is the meaning of this! "

The gargoyle seems to cower for a second, but it can't escape the situation, and the squeezing you feel makes it clear he doesn't want to let go either.

" Release her. Now. " The staff is slammed onto the tiles, ringing. You can feel the atmosphere get really tense and you're not sure how much danger you're currently in either. Might as well try to de-escalate it.

" I- We... We're stuck. " You murmur. He's slightly deflated, giving your pussy a bit of relief, but not enough for his exit to be painless.

The other blinks, his posture slouches slightly, exasperation making him tug at a growth on the back of his head. " Krulu give me strength. "

Who?

" Pebble. I know you like the girl, she's a very pretty lesser, yes. " He starts, gentler in his approach. " But the girl is special, you know? We need her. U-Untangle yourself from her. "

Did... Did he just stutter when telling the gargoyle to pull out? Okay then.

Despite his efforts, the other male doesn't seem quite convinced, snort-growling intensely.

" You've forced my hand. "

The pale monster sighs, his wings rise high and open swiftly, a challenging display if you've ever seen one before. His eyes start glowing, the brightness causing your head to pound, an ear-splitting ringing forcing you to look away and instinctively shield your head. Pebble seems afflicted as well, peeling back from you as far as he can, still connected to you by the pelvis.

By the time you recover from whatever the fuck that horrifying thing was, you find yourself being held above the now lying gargoyle by a chalk-white arm coiled around your abdomen, another holding the sharpened edge of an axe down to Pebble's throats. The gargoyle's furious noises turn to quiet whimpers, he looks mortally frightened.

" Our lord is very disappointed in you. " The angel tuts. " Do not move. "

Next, he addresses you. " Brace as hard as you need to, but I must... Dislodge you two. "

Again with the hesitation. This monster's surrounded by sex and depravity, and yet he his language is so flowery. Regardless, you take his advice to heart, wondering who this "lord" is, while you inhale and wait.

The yank upwards has both you and Pebble keening in pain, the angel stuttering something incoherent and awkward behind you two before he tugs again, harder, and that red cock pops out of you with a miserable sting.

" Mother of FUCK- "

" Language, you depraved thing! " He squawks.

Said misery is followed by an incredible wave of relief as accumulated cum seeps out of you like an obscene cascade, coating the gargoyle's still hard length, making a mess of both of your thighs. Each oozing glob has you panting and shuddering in alleviation. Finally, the bump in your lower abdomen recedes, thank god.

It's clear the angel doesn't really know what to do with you in this state. In fact, when you glance at him, those three eyes are all laser focused on your gushing cunt, frozen there. Pebble breaks the awkward moment by batting the staff away and scrambling out from beneath you, soaked in his own cum, clumsily darting to the shadows. You can hear him take off to the ground while the remaining monster helps you stand straighter.

A terrible idea, as even more globs of cum drip down your legs. It's a shameful sensation, you can only clench to try and helplessly stop the flow.

" U- Unbelievable. Cover yourself, what a disgrace. " The angel fusses, sharply averting his gaze. You note, interestingly, that his fur seems to be fluffing further and further as this goes on. Flustered perhaps?

The moment your crumpled dress is rearranged, now but a mockery of what it once was, the angel slides his staff behind his back and holds you bridal style, the eyes on his head decidedly still looking away from your debauched state even as he takes flight and lands, a lot more smoothly than the gargoyle thakfully.

You'd ask how he did that without looking forward, but then recall the third eye on his chest, the one that is now staring back at you. You can't help but think it's beautiful, in a very inhuman, striking way.

As soon as you're on the ground, the small crowd of mostly demons starts heckling the angel, which, in hindsight, shouldn't really be a surprise. Raunchy comments about him wanting sloppy seconds and being just as pervy as the rest of them are swiftly ignored, anyone who gets too close is quickly swatted away by powerful wings.

A frown takes over your face when he carries you back inside that rotten shithole, though you had yet to see the entrance of the place. This breed between a lounge and a game room, several pool tables and whatnot spread around the large place. Though, sitting squarely in the middle is what must be the main attraction, a fancy, stylish looking bar with all manner of drinks advertised, many of which you don't recognize. But you do recognize the loosely shaped yellow figure operating it, the yellow slime. As if thinking about him is enough to summon his attention, a piercing red eye finds you with eerie precision, pinkish green widening as he waves.

Creepy fucker.

" Let- Let me down, please. " You try, not liking that you're being carried around to who knows where.

" No. You have trotted around enough today. It is time to put an end to this. " You don't like the sound of that, even less so when he gets into the elevator.

" But where are you taking me? "

He pushes a button and stands firmly, the two of you try to ignore the sound of cum droplets hitting the ground. You're sure you've been making a little trail this whole time.

" To a spare room. "

Again?! How many times will you land on one of those? What for? Is that supposed to be your waiting room before another sickfuck comes to fetch the human for their own entertainment? Or is he just going to lock you in a random room for the rest of the night?

Sure enough, when the elevator doors part, you recognize the long hall of doors as the same one the incubus lead you to. He opens one of the nearest doors in a rush, fast enough that you couldn't catch the number, and deposits you carelessly on the bed.

It's a much less lavish room than Santi's. Barren almost. All dark minimalist tones you don't care for. You hold onto the purple sheets and pull yourself up, ready to try to plead with the winged monster when he makes a b-line for the door again.

" Wait! Don't just- "

He interrupts you, sharply turning around. " You are to stay here and behave until lady Admin comes to collect you, am I understood? "

Although his tone is serious, and you recall hearing the name "Admin" somewhere already since the start of this mess, your stare drops to the outline of his hardness and you can't take him seriously anymore. Given how tight to the skin his outfit is, not a lot is left to the imagination, giving away a flat-headed shape and decent proportions. Is he even aware of his own state? As a matter of fact, his fur is still fluffed. Seeing the results of you getting busy with Pebble was enough to put him in that state?

" ... You're hard. "

The angel blinks several times, glancing down at himself, meeting his own neglected dick. You nearly cackle at the dumbfounded look he offers it, as if questioning why it exists. At the smallest hint of your quiet snickering, large wings fan themselves to cover his front. He recovers quickly, you'll give him that.

" Nonsense lesser, don't be disgusting. Stay absolutely still, I will come back. "

He intended to look irritated, but the way he struggles with the door knob and scurries out the room betrays great shame. The door shuts and there's a distinct click. You curse out loud.

Bastard locked it.

Fuck... What do you do now?

Well, you can't just stay still like a sitting duck, waiting to possibly die. You only have a few cards left to play here, which means the stakes are higher this time. Either you bet on trying to find a way out of this room, or you have to disorient the angel somehow.

On the one hand, this entire location is bizarre. It definitely doesn't obey the logic and laws of reality as you know it, if the garden's structure is any indication. So chances are that, maybe, you can find something here that'll help you break out of the room, somehow. A loophole.

On the other, that angel... He's already flustered and feeling awkward, maybe if you push the right buttons, you can get him to lead you somewhere else, can trick him. Maybe he's your ticket out.

#Pebble oc #Belo oc #terato #monster x reader #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terat0philliac #monsterfucker #monster smut

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