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#the night shift cast
gwaine-lover · 8 months
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Eoin Macken catching sun in Ireland ☀️✨
Amy: You're working hard?
Eoin: 😁👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻
Eoin: I'm so free!
Amy: [laughing] Some of us been working!
x / x
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lovecolibri · 4 months
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I truly, TRULY, do not understand the Night Yorb hate. The fact that it was invented whole cloth from a bit is so fun! It was the cliffhanger from the last season! It burst out of Riz's chest after they said the name too many times! It's a giant sting-ray of darkness! The Hangman and Hanvan have been warning everyone about saying the name since the middle of last season!
Sorry you all hate joy and fun and are begging Brennan to get it out of the way to move on to the REAL story, but I'm here for any and all Night Yorb content, and would honestly be *thrilled* if they kept up stuff about it all season. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go join the Choir of Eternal Night and continue petitioning for a Night Yorb plush from Dropout.
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mediademon · 27 days
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Lamorne Morris as Teddy Miles in Night Shift (2023)
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thisisnotthenerd · 1 year
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laudna’s form of dread is now a manifestation of the sun tree, and no longer the veiled ghost. she’s also seemingly without a patron at the moment, given that we haven’t heard from delilah in a while.
full offense to delilah, she doesn’t need more screen time. i would love it if bell’s hells actually managed to stamp her out of laudna. i’m sure they could make a full storyline in arc 3 about squeezing her for information on the assembly and fully purging her, but i think it would be cool for laudna to go somewhere else with it. to feel safe drawing on her warlock powers and to know that she’s no longer the contingency plan of the person that she was collateral damage for.
the idea here is that laudna starts drawing on the sun tree. it doesn’t quite hit the qualifications of a celestial patron even though it was blessed by pelor, so i don’t know how it could be made into a warlock patron without homebrew. also. celestial warlock is heavily based on light and radiance, so you’d get a fun little juxtaposition of a shadow sorcerer pulling on something that makes her do radiant damage. i would probably pull a few druid spells, but that feels like it’s encroaching a little bit on fearne & orym’s territory, so maybe not.
think about it. when you die, your body starts to feed the earth and decompose. the sun tree was dead/dying in the presence of the briarwoods, and came to life again during the revolution against them. it lived in her head just as delilah did--perhaps after being raised, and knowing it can talk, laudna can make conversation with something else that lived in her head for years.
i think its request would be to plant saplings of it, the way keyleth did in zephrah. give the sun tree a chance to spread beyond whitestone and take in the light of other places. funny little way to do this: laudna lays down & goes to sleep at night--in the morning she has to disentangle herself from a bed of roots.
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cyberpunkboytoy · 10 months
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I finally drew the protagonists of @nightshiftingcomic, which is a webcomic that just started posting! You should probably check it out, I hear there's gay werewolves in it.
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fortpeatdata · 1 year
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[230114] FortPeat on MeMindY's twitter and instagram for #Openhouseconcertno3xFortPeat
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So Beans! I have a confession...
even though I started the 30 Days of Echor I hadn't actually been on NSP's Crowdfunding page (before you start throwing rocks its bc I knew it would make me sad that I can't back until much later this month bc payday&bills ect)
Anyway - I just went on it and there is So Much!! I'm talking season two written teaser, project outlines, where the money is being divided, some god tier incentives for stretch goals (!), more details on rewards for each level! AND and a so incredibly wholesome video which has the NSP cast and production team clearly loving and caring about this as much as we do and I just ....
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I feel like I'm going to have to physically sit on my hands until I can responsibly back otherwise theres a chance grocery monies will be going there/hj
Highly recommend going a reading (and if you can contributing) -> Link Here ! <3
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joeyridersvoid · 2 years
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Thinking about when I worked at a shitty restaurant + one night it was just me + 3 other women on closing shift, so some guy came in the back and waved a knife around, presumably for money but I’m not actually certain, bc he was met with the bartender holding a much bigger knife, a tiny teenager wielding a cast iron pan, an elderly woman holding up a crockpot of clearly boiling water, and me, turning on the meat slicer with eye contact for maximum effect. He left, but the moral of the story is not girl power or whatever, it’s just. Why the fuck would you threaten a room full of underpaid and sleep-deprived blue-collar workers surrounded by lethal weapons.
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altruisticalastor · 3 months
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Summary: Alastor didn't like sharing your charm with the others. Which often led him to get needy. Craving extra special attention from his darling girl, which you happily supplied.
☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, heavy breeding kink, praise kink, soft!alastor, creampies, dirty talk, fingering, light biting, nipple play (reader recieving), begging, making out
☒ Word Count: 1,564
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Your peers swore you had cast a spell upon Alastor. He was wrapped around your little finger, and you lost count of how many times demons who stayed at the hotel would come up to you and ask if you owned his soul. 
You may not have owned his soul, but you certainly owned his heart.
After the initial shock wore off, your counterparts left it be. Angel would joke often about how Alastor was "pussy whipped". But that was as far as the teasing went. Everyone else knew not to step on The Radio Demon's toes. 
It wasn't hard for your peers to catch on; to why exactly Alastor loved you so dearly. You were an absolute sweetheart, caring and compassionate in every way. You always offered a hand to any of your counterparts who required assistance, and your actions proved that you were constantly thinking of ways to make everyone feel valued. 
Alastor rather despised having to share your charm with others. Which often led to long nights of your lover being clingy and needy for you. Much like tonight. 
You were flat on your back atop the plush duvet. Alastor surrounded you with his frame, slender arms enclosing near your head. Your lover placed soft kisses across your face. Humming one of his favorite tunes in the process. "Absolutely breathtaking, my doe," Alastor whispered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. 
A chill ran down your spine at the feeling of your lover's bare body pressing against yours. His cold flesh was a nice contrast to the warmth you emitted. You let out a soft whine as Alastor's erection grazed your lower tummy, making you needier than ever for him. Which was The Radio Demon's goal all along. It was only fair to make you feel just as desperate for him as he was for you. 
"Do you know how much I cherish you, my dear?" Alastor cooed, nipping at your neck. Leaving pretty marks in his wake. His sharp teeth grazing along your pulse point caused your breath to hitch. Your lover trailed lower, still pressing his body close to yours. 
"Yes," You sighed, burying your hands into his fluffy tufts of hair as Alastor's lips wrapped around one of your nipples. His hands began to wander. One slipped between your legs, gathering your slick with his deft digits. His other hand trailed to your other breast, tweaking your neglected nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Good girl..." Alastor released your nipple with a loud pop before darting his tongue out to circle around your areola. A cry of his name slipped past your parted lips as Alastor's ring finger eased its way into your pussy. Your grip on his hair tightened as you held him closely to your chest, pulling a deep groan from your lover's lips. 
"Feels so good, Al," You babbled, raising your hips to meet the slow cadence of his finger plunging deep inside you. Alastor's lips shifted to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Only this time, his sharp teeth skimmed along your sensitive nipple. A sultry moan ripped through you from the sensation, urging Alastor on to add a second finger inside your inviting heat. 
Alastor slowly rutted his hips against the plush duvet, letting out groans against your marked-up flesh. "Please, my love... need you inside," You whined desperately, pulling his face up to have him meet your gaze. A string of saliva connected Alastor's lips to your hardened nipple. His cock twitched at the look of desperation you gave him. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, eyebrows knitted with emphasis; eyes half-lidded. 
"How could I say no when you ask so graciously, hm? I intend to give my little doe everything she needs." Alastor's smile widened as he pulled his fingers out of your dripping heat. He didn't waste a beat wrapping his slick-coated fingers around the base of his cock. A whine escaped you as your lover ran the head of his flushed length between your folds.  
"Hmm, you're so wet for me, darling. Do I really work you up that much?" Alastor quipped, allowing the tip of his cock to push past the tight ring of your pussy. You nodded your head in agreement, pushing your hips closer to his; but to no avail. Alastor's hands came to hold your waist, keeping you in place. "Use your words, my dear."
"Y-Yes! Always, Al. Just you... only this needy for you," You were already stupefied by the pleasure your lover granted you, and he barely even began. A deep chuckle escaped Alastor. The radio crackle reverberated through his chest. "I hope you are aware that the feeling is mutual, my precious little doe,"
With that, your lover pushed deeper inside you. Stretching your walls to accommodate his length. "F..Fuck, so tight. You are squeezing me so greatly, darling." Alastor hissed through gritted teeth. Your thighs came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his pelvis flush against yours. 
A gasp fled you as you felt your lover twitch from deep inside you. His full balls kissed the underside of your pussy, making your head spin. "Al, you're so big, feels s-so good..." Your hands enveloped the back of his neck, drawing his face close to yours. Alastor's lips ghosted your own as he delivered his first thrust deep inside your fluttering heat. 
"You take me so well, my darling. Your tight little hole was made for me- and me alone." Alastor whispered against your lips, finding a slow but steady rhythm. Desperate whines escaped you, and your lover drank up each and every single one. Alastor was infatuated. His crimson orbs held so much adoration for you. 
You kept your gaze fixated on him as he fucked into you sweetly. Your legs narrowed around his waist as Alastor began plunging into you with more vigor. "I'm going to breed you, my sweet little doe," Alastor huffed. One of his large palms wrapped around your hand before he dragged it down to your tummy. A sharp gasp fled you as you touched the prominent bulge your lover was causing. "Feel that, my dear? I'm in so deep. Surely you'll get pregnant when I spill my seed inside you." 
You clenched harshly around him from his crude words. The thought of Alastor knocking up caused the coil within you to unravel. "P-Please, breed me! Fill me up, make me yours for good!" You cried out, thighs trembling around your lover's waist. Your words diminished the last of Alastor's resolve. Before you knew it, his large hands hooked under the back of your thighs. Pushing them tightly to your chest.
A sharp gasp escaped you from the change of position. Alastor's cock reached even deeper from this angle, intensifying the heat in your lower tummy. "Such a good girl you are! You're so pilant, so willing... so eager for me to fuck a baby into you." His words caused your walls to flutter wildly around his length. You were on the edge of cumming all over his cock. The pleasure Alastor provided you was becoming too invigorating to bear. 
"Al, ah... I'm close! K-Kiss me, please!" You begged as his hips pistoned harshly into yours. The lewd sound of his balls slapping against the underside of your drooling pussy sent a pleasurable chill down your spine. Alastor wasted no time capturing your lips. The kiss was hot and messy, tongues intertwining with one another as the coil within you finally snapped. Your lover drank up all of your whines as your pussy pulsed and gushed around his cock. 
Alastor wasn't far behind you. His release was triggered by yours. The feeling of your hot, wet walls trying to milk him for all he was worth made him feel lightheaded. His thrusts became sloppy before his hips ultimately stilled against yours. Alastor groaned into the kiss as his cock twitched from deep within you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as the first ropes of his cum spilled into your pussy. 
There was so much, and the feeling of being bred by your lover was heavenly; ironically so. Alastor slowly broke away from the kiss as he attempted to catch his breath. His cock was still nestled deep inside you as he stared down at you lovingly. You couldn't help but smile widely at your lover, allowing your palms to capture his cheeks. Rubbing Alastor's face gently with the pads of your thumbs. 
"Alastor, that was... wow," You giggled as your lover slowly released his tight grip on your thighs, allowing your legs to lie flat against the bed. "You are truly perfect, my dear. I simply cannot get enough of you!" Alastor's praise caused your heart to flutter in your chest. He was so gentle with you and you alone. Pride surged through your soul at the notion that Alastor only had a soft spot for you.
Your train of thought was cut off by the sensation of your lover's cock hardening from deep inside you once more. A smirk crossed Alastor's features as he reveled in your look of shock. "What's with the look of awe, my darling? I told you I was going to breed you. I don't intend to leave this room until I am positive you have been thoroughly bred."
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tags; @danveration
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ohproserpine · 3 months
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iii. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love, murder
The next night, Alastor returned in unusually high spirits. He practically dragged you onto the dance floor, twirling you around in dizzying circles for eight whole rounds. If you hadn't asked him to stop, you might have ended up collapsing from sheer exhaustion.
As it was a Saturday night and you weren't scheduled to perform, the trio of you settled in at the bar, enjoying drinks and each other's company as the night wore on.
"Come on, doll! Bottoms up!" Mimzy cheered, her laughter bubbling with infectious energy. The blonde pressed a crystal-clear glass against your lips, tilting it up and urging you to indulge further. The cool liquid burned as it slid down your throat, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. The room turned into a swirling blend of jazz melodies, clinking glasses, and loud, loud chatter.
After a few seconds, unable to endure the relentless flow of alcohol, you finally pushed her hand away with a sputter and a cough. The taste of the giggle water lingered on your lips as you slumped against Alastor's chest, your burning cheeks squished against the fabric of his coat.
"Had a bit too much, have we?" he smirked. The radio host smoothly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the fine fabric of his suit brushing against your skin as he held you upright against him. You nestled against Alastor, swaying slightly to the music, the alcohol-induced haze casting a dreamy glow over your vision. "My, it looks as though the night's got its claws in you, cher."
"Not yet it hasn't," you grinned, your words slurring slightly as you shifted against him, a hand outstretched to grab your drink off the counter.
"Ah ah ah," Alastor chuckled as he took your glass from you, setting it aside with a careful motion. "Let's not push our luck, shall we?"
"Aw, don't be such a wet blanket!" Mimzy snorted, her curls bouncing as she plopped onto the seat beside you. "She's just having a good time! Ain't that right, doll?"
"Mhm!" you nodded your head eagerly before stopping, the ceaseless nodding causing a dull ache in your head.
"There's a good time, and then there's getting plastered. I'd hate to see the star of the show here end up on the floor. Ha ha!" Alastor boomed out with a laugh, catching you off guard. You would have stumbled off the seat if it weren't for his swift reflexes, his gloved hand wrapping around your arm to pull you back up.
"Such a klutz," Alastor tutted with a smirk as he steadied you. "See? What ever would happen to my favorite showgirl if I don't keep a watchful eye?" 
"Oh, please!" Mimzy snorted as she slid another cool glass of giggle water in front of you, leaving a glistening trail of water from the condensation. "She's handled worse than this. We're just getting started!”
"Mimzy, my dear, it seems my words didn't quite get into that thick skull of yours," Alastor enunciated with a tight-lipped smile. "Allow me to say it in much more simpler terms; she has had enough."
"Oh, come on—"
"Do you want all your patrons to witness yet another fiasco in this establishment?"Alastor smiled as he bore his gaze into the blonde's doe eyes. "Because it does sure seem like a night can't pass here without a fuckup!"
Mimzy's shoulders raised in surprise. She stayed silent for a while before forcing out a response through gritted teeth. "No."
Alastor leaned in, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, voice devoid of his usual eccentricity. "Then dry up. Understood?"
"Understood," Mimzy rolled her eyes, tucking her chin to her chest as she stared at her feet.
"Lovely." Alastor hummed before straightening himself. And just like that, the tension dissipated, replaced by an air of nonchalance.
"Well! This has been a delightful night, but I do believe it's time to escort this lovely lady home, don't you think?" Alastor's tone shifted back to its usual charm, as nothing had happened. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging your ditzy self out of the bar stool as he began to guide you out of the speakeasy.
"Best of luck, chums!"
.
"Can you believe it? That lousy, two-timing rat! You introduce him to the girl of his dreams, and what does he do? He high-tails it outta here with her, leaving us all high and dry!" Mimzy ranted, shaking her fist in frustration before pouring herself another drink. "Not a word for a whole week! I had to call in Nitwit Nancy to cover her Friday shifts! And you know that broad sounds like a screeching cat on a hot tin roof."
Beside her, Angel Dust was flabbergasted, his jaw hanging open with the champagne glass dangling loosely from his hands, its contents long spilled onto the counter, creating a shimmering puddle on the bar. Husk grumbled as he wiped the counter clean with a worn-out rag, eyes flickering between Mimzy and Angel.
The spider was staring at Mimzy as if the blonde had just sprouted a third tit, his eyes wide and struggling to process everything he had just been told.
“Why is you gawkin'?!” Mimzy leaned away from Angel, unsettled by the look on his face. “Aww. Is it 'cuz I'm adorable?”
"Fuckin' hell, toots," the spider coughed out a laugh. "I'm having difficulty understanding all that you just spat at me, blondie. What happened to you ‘keeping a secret’?"
Mimzy's body tensed, a sudden realization flashing across her face as she belatedly registered the fact that she had been running her mouth.
Shaking her head, she pulled herself back together with a huff. "Whatever, alright?! I doubt—"
Suddenly, a loud bang at the door echoed through the room, causing the two demons to startle in their seats. Mimzy's head snapped towards the source of the noise so swiftly she nearly gave herself whiplash. In growing horror, she watched as the hinges of the hotel's entrance door began to creak, the walls around them starting to crack and shed plaster.
"Mimzy! We know you're in there! You lousy bitch!"
"Oh, shit," she winced sinking into her seat.
"What the fuck—" Husk cursed, his words drowned out by the sudden explosion that violently rattled the lower windows. Shards of glass rained down onto the floor as dust and debris filled the air, choking their senses. Husk whipped his head around to glare at Mimzy when she vaulted over the bar counter, seeking refuge behind the sturdy wood.
"I fucking knew it. What shit have you brought to us this time?" Husk demanded, his grip tightening on her dress as he lifted her up. Another explosion echoed through the building, the shockwaves pulsing through the floor causing Husk to stumble and drop her. 
With a pained grunt, the blonde crashed to the floor, her bruised front absorbing the brunt of the impact. As she lifted her head, she met Husk's glare.
"Ahah... Well," Mimzy sheepishly smiled, her eyes darting nervously as she cowered on the floor. The banging on the door grew louder and more aggressive, echoing through the hotel lobby like a menacing drumbeat.
Angel Dust stood frozen by one of the living room walls, his hands pressed against it to anchor himself. Suddenly, he noticed the television set flickering with an eerie glow, emitting dissonant static noises that seemed to crawl under his fur. The crackling sound took on an unsettling pitch, and an odd pink electricity surged through the screen, casting a sickly hue across the room. "What the fuck...?!"
In that moment, Vaggie and Charlie stormed onto the scene, their eyes widening in disbelief as they absorbed the chaotic sight. The hotel lobby, once orderly and serene, now lay in ruins—furniture overturned, glass shattered, and the wallpaper charred.
"What's happening?!" Vaggie exclaimed, swiftly drawing her spear and slicing a chunk of concrete in half before it could reach her. The broken pieces ricocheted off the walls, adding to the destruction.
"We are under sssiege!" Sir Pentious screamed as he scrambled to get Nifty into his arms, slithering behind the toppled-over couch for cover. The banging on the door intensified, accompanied by muffled threats and angry shouts from outside. "It'sss all that harlot'sss fault!
"Harlot?" Vaggie questioned, her fiery gaze sweeping the room for a familiar mop of blonde hair. Upon spotting Mimzy, her eyes narrowed as her lips curled into a snarl. "Explain."
"I may or may not be in trouble with an overlord! Well, maybe a couple of 'em," Mimzy rushed out, her words tumbling over each other in a nervous babble. "And I may or may not have 'borrowed' one of their top showgirls. And, well, got that girl killed… but she had it coming!"
Vaggie's patience waned with each new sentence Mimzy added, and a low groan escaped her lips.
"Leave this to me," she hissed, red-hot fury flashing in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her spear. "Everyone, get somewhere safe."
"I'm afraid that will not be necessary, my dear."
A sudden crackling static, skin to the ominous hum of a radio, seeped through the room as Alastor emerged from the shadowed corners. The demon's grin twisted unnaturally, stretching up to his glowing crimson eyes, which emitted an eerie, hollow glow. Tendrils of inky shadow began to writhe and sprout from Alastor's back, emitting sickening cracking noises.
In the blink of an eye, he dashed outside, engaging in his unholy work, swiftly and effortlessly ridding the area of its assailants. The air outside carried echoes of screams and the sharp, metallic scent of blood.
Before everyone could fully comprehend the whirlwind of events that had just transpired, the screaming ceased. Shortly after, Alastor returned to his usual demeanor. Nonchalantly stepping back into the damaged lounge, he dusted off his suit, traces of blood marking his path on the floors.
"Alastor! Babyface! Good show!" Mimzy began clapping, seemingly unfazed by the gorey scene as she stepped out of her hiding spot. "Bravo! bravo!"
Upon hearing Mimzy's voice, Alastor's head fully twisted around with a loud, bone-chilling crack accompanying the movement. The radio demon moved toward her, his towering 7-foot form eclipsing her much smaller figure. He bared his sharp teeth in a menacing smile as his antlers began to grow in length, curling and twisting over his head—a display nothing short of terrifying.
"You—"
"Alastor~" Charlie's voice quivered with forced cheerfulness, her hands wringing together anxiously. "Haha! Let's, uh, try to keep our cool here, okay? We really don't need any more messes, do we? Haha!"
The princess's attempt at forced cheerfulness made her look desperate, her manic expression surfacing as her pupils visibly shrank, darting around the room like startled prey.
Alastor closed his eyes, the tension in his form visible as he took a moment to regain composure. Gradually, his antlers reverted to their usual size. With an eerie calm settling over him, he reopened his eyes, though the strain was evident in his smile. "My apologies, chum. I'll be out of your hair in a bit."
He spared Charlie one more glance, his gaze piercing, before redirecting his attention to Mimzy. The intensity in his stare bore into her as he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Since you are so eager to catch up, why don't we have a talk? In private."
With that, the radio demon snapped his fingers, transporting both of them out of the lounge.
"Dumb bitch," Husk grumbled under his breath, covering his eyes with his paws and slamming his head onto the bar counter. "We're all fucked once he finds out."
"Find out what?" Walking up to him, Angel Dust shot Husk a confused look. The spider delicately brushed away the dust that clung to his grey fur, picking out the bigger pieces of cement and plaster. "I thought they were friends?"
Husk raised his head off the counter, mismatched eyes meeting Angel's own. "Not anymore."
.
Mimzy slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the surreal sight of a blood-red room surrounding her. It housed a radio station complete with an array of dials and a microphone, the very tools she knew Alastor utilized for his broadcasts.
'His broadcasting station?' she noted, curiously looking about the room.
Suddenly, Alastor's firm grip closed around her shoulder, causing her to whirl around with disorienting speed. His bloodied claws moved to cradle both of her rosy cheeks, their sharp edges looming dangerously close to breaking skin while he squeezed her face as though dealing with a disobedient child.
"I thought I made it very clear that you were to step nowhere near me," Alastor forced her to stare up at him. Despite the discomfort caused by Alastor's claws digging in, Mimzy maintained her confident demeanor and glared straight back up at him. "Did I not, dearest?"
"Oh, I just ran into a spot of trouble, and I thought, who better to lend a helping hand than you?" Mimzy rolled her eyes as she pulled herself away from his grasp, massaging the tender flesh of her cheeks. "You always love helping lil ole me."
"Enough. What is it you want?" Alastor snapped. "Should you persist in wasting more of my precious time, I will relish tearing you apart limb from limb, and the symphony of your sweet screams will be a broadcast for all of Hell to revel in."
Mimzy, unfazed, leaned in with a sly grin, her fingers playfully tracing the lapel of Alastor's coat. "Alright, tall, dark, and creepy. I know you aren't going to do shit."
"After all," she batted her lashes at him, "Hurting me would be hurting her, now wouldn't it?"
The blonde pressed her finger into his chest, poking him repeatedly. "That was in the contract~ You. Heartless. Son. Of. A. Bitch."
A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in the depths of Alastor's throat. "Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, catching her finger mid-poke. "You seem to be overlooking the delicate nature of contracts. It might be wise for you to tread more carefully, relying on such flimsy assurances."
"Flimsy?!" Mimzy scowled. "I got your girl on a leash!"
"Lets make this very clear," Alastor's voice deepened into a growl, eyes flashing red in warning. "This contract doesn't grant you a carte blanche to play games with my patience. If not for her plea to spare you, your fate would have been sealed by now."
As Alastor's grip moved to tighten around her throat, Mimzy's eyes nervously tracked the sharp edge of his claws, her breath catching in her throat.
"W-Whatevah! A contract is a contract," she retorted. Mimzy roughly pulled away from him, scrambling to gain the upper hand again. "Even if there ain't a soul exchange, it's still binding!"
"Yes, indeed! I am well aware of contractual obligations, dear," Alastor grinned, his cane tightening in his grip, claws leaving indents on the dark steel. Bending down to meet her gaze, he continued, "But you seem to have forgotten that time's almost up! The expiration for your contract is nearing. And when that happens, I do intend to reclaim what is rightfully mine – my wife. At that point, you will find yourself plunged into an abyssal world of unrelenting agony."
"Abyss, schmabyss. I've dealt with worse," Mimzy scoffed, her hand waving dismissively. "Now look, I got what I wanted outta you, and I don't have to take this."
With that, the blonde turned with a dramatic flair, her heels clicking against the floor as she stomped towards the door. She adjusted her hair and straightened her dress, a smug smirk dancing on her lips.
"Have fun with your little princess and your little project," she quipped.
Over her shoulder, she shot Alastor one last look, a sly glint in her eyes. "Because I sure am having fun with mine~"
Dry up - Shut up Giggle Water - Liquor Carte Blanche - Complete freedom to act as one wishes
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awearywritersworld · 5 months
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my very soul demands you
sukuna x reader summary: you introduce sukuna to cuddling and romance novels. meanwhile, he's still struggling to make sense of his feelings for you, despite wanting to commit murder because another man had the nerve to touch your arm (which earns him a lecture from yuuji). w/c: 2.5k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. jealous!sukuna. aged up!yuuji. features yuuji x reader. cursing. banter. hopefully not too ooc for sukuna. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it'd flow much better with the context of the previous two parts. lots of denial and begrudging softness from sukuna here. definitely more fluff than anything tho. this series has been fun to write, so thanks for reading<3 i appreciate reblogs or feedback! let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any additional parts. series masterlist // masterlist
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when you crawl in between sukuna's legs and curl up against his chest, it's a foreign experience that makes his body stiffen.
he'd been with countless women during his lifetime, but while fucking is one thing, he never once found himself in a position that struck him as this... intimate.
"hold me," you whine as if you can sense his unfamiliarity with such matters.
he rolls his eyes, beginning to wonder if your habit of throwing orders at him is actually some sort of compulsive need. "didn't anyone ever teach you manners?"
despite his irritation, he acquiesces to your demand and once he envelops you in his arms, some of his rigidness dissipates.
you hum contentedly. "isn't that better?"
"it's tolerable," he asserts, his chest vibrating against your cheek.
"whatever you say." tangling your legs with his, you turn your attention back to the movie you've both been watching.
he doesn't understand this... tedious display of affection, nor does he particularly enjoy it... right?
and he only allows it because he can't rid his mind of the image of your tear stained face... right?
yeah, that has to be it. he figures he can endure this, given that he was the reason you were so upset earlier.
it goes without saying that he doesn't realize it when he begins to rub absentminded circles on your back.
and the way the warmth of your body forces his usually tense muscles to relax goes unacknowledged.
when the credits begin to roll, sukuna's wearing an expression of unimpressed disinterest. "that's seriously how it ends?"
you don't respond, so he looks down only to find that you're fast asleep.
"tch. you ask to watch a movie, force me to pick it, and then you don't even have the decency to stay awake." he's not sure why he's chiding you even though he knows you can't hear him, but he keeps his voice low enough that it won't disturb you.
sukuna's spent more time than he cares to admit watching your sleeping form, but this is the first time that it's actually him you're pressed against. it's the first time he can reach out and touch you.
your hair has fallen across your face, so he pushes it back behind your ear gently. the pads of his fingers brush against your cheekbone, a ghost of a caress, and his gaze lingers on your parted lips.
he lets out a deep breath, tearing his eyes away from you. "impertinent brat."
reaching for the remote, he flips off the tv and casts the room in darkness.
upon waking up in the morning, yuuji's confused once he notices that he's on the couch and you're sleeping against his chest.
he may have been half asleep when he arrived home, but he's still positive he went to bed. stretching his arms above his head, the movement jostles you from your slumber.
"mornin', baby."
"good morning, yu," you yawn in response, shifting to sit up.
"how'd i wind up on the couch?" he asks, though he's already got an inkling of the answer.
"oh," you blush. "sukuna kind of made an appearance last night."
"that so? how'd it go?"
you think there might be a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. is he teasing you?
"good," you offer. "we watched a movie."
"watched a movie with the king of curses," he muses before his face breaks out into a lopsided grin. "you sure are somethin', baby."
returning his smile, you lean in and press your lips to his. "hm. says you."
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it's not uncommon for you to meet yuuji for lunch if his mission is short and nearby, and today is one of those days, so he eagerly makes his way to the cafe you agreed on.
he's still a few hundred feet away when he spots you through the window, chatting with a man he recognizes as your childhood friend.
his gaze drops to where his hand is wrapped around your forearm as you both share a laugh together.
it doesn't really bother yuuji, he trusts you implicitly and jealousy isn't an emotion that's really on his radar. the same can't be said for everyone, though.
sukuna watches on as well, his thoughts much darker than his vessel's. who does that wretch think he is, putting his hands on you?
you're not his to touch.
"give me control," sukuna growls, his mouth appearing on yuuji's cheek.
"and why would i do that?"
"so i can rip his heart out and gift it to her since he seems so interested in offering his affections."
"duuuude," yuuji begins, somewhat amused. "i don't think she'd be super crazy about you murdering her friend."
"fine," sukuna bites back, well aware that yuuji has a point. "but he can live without his filthy hands, can't he? perhaps i'll pull each arm from his torso—"
yuuji snorts. "you have some serious issues, man."
he can feel sukuna trying to take over and easily curbs the attempt, though that only fuels the king of curses' irritation. "my only issue lies in the fact you're allowing this to happen."
yuuji reaches the door, a bell chiming through the cafe as he pulls it open. "she's a big girl. she doesn't need either of us to dictate what can and can't happen to her."
once you see your boyfriend, your face lights up and you call out his name. you place a kiss on his cheek and snake an arm around his waist in greeting, and the space it puts between you and your friend is enough to keep sukuna from protesting further.
"you two have met, right?" you ask.
"yeah! hey, itadori! it's been a while."
"it has! good to see you, yamada."
"i'd love to stay and chat more, but i have to get going," he states, leaning in to give you a hug which you return. "we should all go out together soon!"
"absolutely not, you deplorable knave—" yuuji slaps a hand to his cheek before sukuna can continue and yamada gives him an odd look.
your eyes widen for a split second and you have to stop yourself from facepalming.
"what'd you say?" yamada asks, sounding a bit hesitant.
"i said absolutely, sounds like an enjoyable night!"
the men exchange a handshake before you and yuuji make your way to a table.
"sukuna, what the hell was that?" you hiss once yamada's out of earshot.
"i don't know what you mean," he responds smugly.
you meet yuuji's eye and he just shrugs his shoulders, but you swear the corners of his mouth twitch upward.
you can't imagine anything good coming from the two of them colluding with one another, but let it go anyway.
opening up your menu, you sigh in defeat. "if you say so."
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"what do you mean you'd rather disembowel yourself?" you question the man sitting across from you.
it's becoming more commonplace to see those dark marks adorning yuuji's body during the nighttime hours. you sometimes wonder if he's letting it happen or if sukuna's just getting better at taking over, but you're too nervous to ask.
"do you need a dictionary? there's one over on the shelf—"
"no, asshole. i know what disembowel means! i just don't understand your refusal."
he raises his eyebrows at the obscenity, but doesn't comment on it. "i'm not reading some inane romance novel."
"but brontë's one of my favorite authors!"
"it makes no difference if it was penned by the gods. the thought alone is absurd. can we move on now?"
you don't respond. instead, you cross your arms and stare at the wall defiantly. your face is contorted into an expression that lets sukuna know you're clearly affronted.
"very mature, you silly little girl."
"sorry you find me and my interests so childish," you huff.
"oh, please. that's not what i said."
you continue giving him the cold shoulder, having no desire to argue further, but more than willing to die on this hill.
"fine, don't talk. it's no matter to me," he claims (despite it being the furthest thing from the truth).
as the minutes tick by, he keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye and exhaling dramatically.
eventually, he calls your name in an exasperated tone, and while it makes your heart flutter, you still don't spare him a glance. you just hold the book out for him and to your surprise, he rips it from your grasp.
"you're ridiculous," he grumbles, opening the cover to reveal the first page. "i hate you."
when he glances over to see you're beaming at him despite the insult, he adds (albeit half heartedly), "i mean it, brat."
the two of you sit in silence, each of you reading your respective books. a few chapters in, sukuna comes across the following conversation:
"do you know where the wicked go after death?" "they go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer. "and what is hell? can you tell me that?" "a pit full of fire." "and should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?" "no, sir." "what must you do to avoid it?" i deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable: "i must keep in good health, and not die."
to your astonishment, you actually hear him chuckle, but when he looks over and finds your self satisfied smirk, any hint of humor disappears from his face in the blink of an eye. your hand quickly moves to your mouth to stifle a giggle.
"something you want to say?" he baits you.
"nope, nothing at all!"
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two nights later, he's already nearing the end of the story and you refrain from commenting about how quickly he's made his way through.
you doubt he'd allow your current position if you had— you're laying on your side, your head resting comfortably in his lap, one hand occupying the space above his knee.
when you asked if it was okay, all he offered you was a clipped, "i suppose."
your hair is splayed across his thigh and your eyes fluttered shut a while ago. when he agreed to this, he didn't realize how distracting it'd be. his gaze flickers between you and the words on the page with embarrassing frequency.
he's decided what you call cuddling is absolutely suffocating. how anyone could actually enjoy it, he's sure he'll never comprehend. he can hardly concentrate on the novel that's right in front of him—
"read to me, 'kuna," you mumble, interrupting his thoughts. it surprises him that you're still awake.
he scoffs. "what do i look like? your personal audiobook?"
"you didn't even know those existed until like a week ago," you laugh. "c'mon, pleaaaaaase."
he stays quiet for a few moments, so you're under the impression he may just ignore your request. as such, you're exceptionally pleased when his voice fills the otherwise still apartment.
you think the sound of his voice is comforting, an idea that would more than likely make him cringe, so you keep it to yourself. after all, you don't want him to stop.
at some point or another, he begins twirling a strand of your hair around his finger whenever he's not turning the page, an action that seems to take place without his noticing.
occasionally he'll pause to ask if you're even listening. it's an odd feeling that blossoms in his stomach when you assure, "mhmm. every word."
as he reaches the second to last chapter, he reads a line that makes you question whether your heart's stopped beating. you're not sure if it's because of the tone of his voice, the words he's imparting, or some mix thereof.
"no—no—jane; you must not go. no—i have touched you, heard you, felt the comfort of your presence—the sweetness of your consolation: i cannot give up these joys. i have little left in myself—I must have you. the world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify."
he stops reading, as if he too feels the sense of unease that's invaded the air. against your better judgement, you turn to look at him. his eyes are glued to the page, almost like they're avoiding you, and his jaw is tense.
"my very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”
when his gaze finally lands on you, his expression is almost pained. it's a strange contrast to the warm fondness you spot in his eyes.
you quickly push that thought away, however. whatever you believe you may have seen, you're probably just deluding yourself. you know you aren't his least favorite person, but surely he'd never feel even half of that sentiment toward you—
your breath catches in your throat when his hand reaches up, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. he still marvels at the fact you don't shy away from his touch, that you're usually the one to seek out contact with him.
perhaps the story is not as asinine as he expected it to be. rochester presumes jane will find him revolting, yet she still agrees to be with him, even after his selfishness has been made plain to her. after the sins of his past have caught up to him.
no, no, no.
to be so desperate for some woman's approval, or her devotion for that matter, is despicable. rochester's nothing less than foolish and sukuna isn't anything like him.
but you're certainly like jane, aren't you? fearless, passionate, and determined: all things he can't help but find endearing...
gods, what is this turmoil? it's making him feel pathetic and there isn't an emotion in the world he hates more—
you distract him from his internal monologue when your fingers wrap around his wrist and bring his knuckles to your lips. "you okay?"
"of course," he mutters, pulling his hand away. "just trying to get past all the mawkishness."
"really? you think it's that bad?" you question, the frown on your lips igniting that ache in his chest that appears whenever you're upset.
"it's not terrible," he sighs, realizing there may indeed be one thing he despises even more than feeling pathetic. "although i don't understand how jane is so taken with rochester."
you seem to ponder this for a moment before shrugging. "love is weird."
"what a clever analysis."
you slap his chest playfully. "oh, whatever. just keep going, you're almost finished!"
and you're right. he does reach the end of jane eyre that night, but not before you fall asleep on his lap. he closes the book, running a finger down the creased spine and setting it down carefully. it's obvious you've read it several times.
admittedly, he can see why, but he'd be caught dead before he'd ever tell you as much.
left alone with his thoughts, he considers the impossibility of jane and rochester: a charming, headstrong woman and a cruel, arrogant man.
leaning forward, he whispers your name to make certain you're asleep, then places a lingering kiss to your forehead.
"..sweet dreams."
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gwaine-lover · 1 year
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Eoin Macken for DA MAN Magazine
(February/March 2023)
BTS
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anantaru · 6 months
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DAY 17 — VIRGINITY LOSS
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — neuvillette, heizou, wriothesley
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, first time, virgin! reader, taking your v card, soft & passionate, pussy drunk genshin men
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𖧡 — NEUVILLETTE
neuvillette was always tender-hearted and caring with you— nonetheless, this specific night, he was burning up through his entire nervous system— only a minimal glance of your body was able to drag him into such brimming state with sweat spouting down his back while only inches away from feeling your skin on his hands— just the whisper of your soft words scurrying at the head of his sinful imaginations.
at the present moment in time, there were no thoughts other than doing this correctly, no focus other than the one centered on your angelic frame— a crucial need, as much as air and water, sewed up within the pain of anticipation simmering over his psyche.
you can feel how his fingers silently curve over the flesh of your thighs before he inches you closer to his bare body, "voice any discomfort to me—," he pauses before coughing out, barely breathing as his heart thuds hard against his chest from how tight your legs were wrapped around his hips, "—immediately."
you nod in compliance, and you rest your head against his broad shoulder before feeling neuvillette's complete weight shift, soon after caging you beneath him as he towers on top with a new perception prodding at your wet core, his cock gently resting between your silken pussy lips— it's unique to any other feeling you have ever experienced before and your thighs instantly clamp around his hips harder, your ragged breathing tottering over his neck and shoulder.
you try to relax yourself, letting your hips fall into the mattress before suddenly trembling at an increasing pressure on your cunt— you hear a whimper as neuvillette rests his forehead on yours, holding his gaze on your eyes, the force of the increasing press precise and cautious as your hole parts around the intrusion.
it seems to be everywhere, all at once trapping your body and you suddenly feel so hot inside, then cold, then hot again, the way it manifested so quickly in you like a spumming inferno that imprisoned your body before your mind floats in the air, above clouds— again, it's hot and cold, hot and cold, the pressure in your lower area penetrant and heavy, and you're becoming dizzy by just focusing on how his shaft was stretching you out as neuvillette fills your cunt to the hilt.
neuvillette notices an immediate reaction from his elevated senses, in the way a strong current of oversensitivity stung along his thick, sheathed shaft like a bee stinging their victims— nullifying his pace as his hips stutter before coming to a hold, reveling himself into the warm hug of a wet, gushing pussy enveloping him.
it's just too much right now, for the both of you— or how your body was beginning to smell just like him, your pussy shaping over his length and casted all around it— as if the both of you, had claimed each other entirely.
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𖧡 — HEIZOU
"squeeze my hand if it's too much or uncomfortable,"
regardless of heizou's confident and soothing sentences towards you, before smirking down and giving you the feeling that he had it all figured out a long time ago— was in reality, a helpless attempt to hide his genuine panic deafening his inner spirit, and even though the detective believed he did a good job at concealing it from you, the way he'd awkwardly scrunch his brows together or stumble over his own words aired his self parading nervousness spotless for you to see.
despite that, it's a heavenly sight to have you splayed underneath him, bare and exposed— untouched, so hot that it has you clench around his waist as he first slips himself in, his cock immediately showering your warm walls with love. your heart was racing and so was his, yet it was impressive, his self control, slowly pushing in and out of your little hole and leaning his head down to plant a soft, tender kiss on your lips.
"you're so beautiful," heizou praises as you part your lips, "you're mine," and wait for heizou to slip his eager tongue deep into the warm cavern of your mouth, your mind lost in a swirl of senselessness by his gradually fastening thrusts and the mild pain accompanying them— yet such, didn't matter in this moment, because your thoughts travelled up the soul-deep river over emotions unlocking deep inside that bonded your bodies in a new sense of awareness.
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𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY
watching you smile filled wriothesley with a love he never thought he was capable of feeling— and it's warm, as he believed love should always be perceived as, with your bodies moving unitedly, ugh, archons, he was obsessed with this intoxicating feeling.
“f-fuck, fuck, princess, fuck," he stumbles over his wet trembles, his mouth parted and forehead bedding a film of sweat as wriothesley persistently grinds into your sensitivity, his voice raspier than usual and for once he wasn't cracking occasional jokes, instead he hold your gaze forevermore, groaning out a shaky heave as you mewl out from the deep-rooted press on your core— it's a little uncomfortable you won't lie, and wriothesley being above average wasn't aiding you in that particular battle.
despite that you welcome him completely, no matter the circumstances you keep your legs pressed around his thighs when he tirelessly embeds himself so far inside your cunt that you're nothing but a babbling mess, hardly capable to breathe nor voice your pleasure due to the lingering compression on your slit being penetrated for the first time by a large, thick length, so perfectly shaped and harboring a soft pink on the bulbous tip.
he didn't believe he'd ever become so devoted towards another human being and utterly revel inside pleasing you for the first time, through your body and your soul and ugh— that you wanted him to be your first and no one else, how such reason alone was growing the addiction inside of him, his hips grinding inside your warm hole as his lower abs constrict at the pleasure.
wriothesley licks into your mouth in desperation, and each moment he pulls his hips back only to slip inside again, it’s so much better and it seemed like there wasn't a chance for it to subside, the sensation was growing between both your bodies rubbing over each other, his hips twitching with the sudden thud of vibrations due to your creamy walls clamping down on him.
your soft frame squeezes underneath his rough one, hot walls and wet taste, your slit gripping him just the right way and swallowing him till overcrowded with his heavy length, stimulating the veins sloped over his shaft like you were made to do this with him and only him.
truly, there was no comparison to this, nothing would make him get bored of doing this with you.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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amisunderstoodgoddess · 6 months
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The Hunt
(final part here)
Rating: Explicit +18
Summary: When the creature you fear so much manages to escape containment, will he show you any mercy or take you without any regret?
Author's note: I intend to make this story with just two chapters. This is the first, the second will soon be available. Hope you like it!
English is not my first language.
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'ALERT: Specimen 375-6 is out of containment.
It's not training. All search and capture units were activated.
ALERT: Specimen 375-6 out of containment.'
You swallow hard as you read the warning message on your phone, the words falling over your body like a truck of bricks.
He had escaped.
The creature you knew and didn't know.
It was yet another top-secret government item, another non-human biological material captured and kept for research.
He stands out from the others, of course.
With his height, intimidating physique, and obvious intelligence, but you never actually approached his cell, only catching brief glimpses from afar as you did your job collecting and saving data from the scientists' research in the system.
But you always felt something strange in the rare moments you needed to approach the cell block he was in.
He kept to the back, using the shadows to stay hidden. And yet there was one thing that caught your attention, regardless of how dark the place was.
His eyes.
Two orange spheres, standing out like beacons in the night.
He remained basically the same every time you entered that part of the building. Sitting on the floor with his legs half bent and his wrists firmly restrained by chains resting on his knees, you couldn't make out the color of his scaly skin or his features in general, but the color of those eyes shone like neon lights in the darkness of the cell.
He looked at you, every time.
It was disturbingly intense. There were no blinking eyelids or shifting gazes, he stared at you with unwavering focus from the moment you entered the lab until the moment you left. His eyes…they shone with intelligence and superiority. Like he's just there because he wants to be there, not because he was captured. He owned everything he laid eyes on. The rational part of your brain screamed, 'Look away! Run away!' but those eyes seemed to want to capture your soul with each encounter.
All your co-workers had noticed the strange fixation that the creature seemed to have on you, but you always denied it, diverting the subject while saying it was just their imagination.
Deep down you knew it wasn't.
You saw the way his unsettling gaze settled on your form, felt the shiver run down your spine at his gaze and yet - even now, you could still feel that warm buzz inside at the memory of his burning gaze locked on you.
You could admit that it wasn't healthy to feel any level of curiosity towards a murderous monster who was obsessed with you. It was scary.
Your only consolation was that he was tightly contained with the best technologies the government could dispose of.
But he always seemed very calm to you, as if he were above all that. In a confident and almost arrogant way, in the way that only people who have a coldly calculated plan are.
Now he was free.
And you had a horrible feeling that you knew exactly who he was going after.
You quickly walk down the street towards your house. Your heart beats fast, the gentle breeze brushes your warm skin and your loose hair. The canopy of trees above and the few lights along the main path cast their shadow in the opposite direction as you walk faster and faster.
At the end of the street, your eyes notice movement, something large and slow, moving behind a row of parked cars. It's not completely unusual for pedestrians to be out so late - after all, you're here, right? - but your stomach drops a little, very consciously. Something instinctive warning you that it is smart to be afraid.
By the time your trajectory takes you past the line of dark vehicles, the street is once again empty and you allow the hairs on the back of your neck to rise with relief. It was probably just some insomniac suburbanite, taking out the trash or smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk.
Rows of closed windows stare at you blankly as you pass by, colonial houses with sagging porches and overgrown backyards, the residents of the peaceful neighborhood sleeping soundly within the comfort of their homes.
A noise breaks the silence: a loud, prolonged rumble, followed by an inhuman whine, an undeniably animal sound.
There's a single lamp behind you that puts an enormous silhouette into sharp relief, but you can still easily see his solid, dangerous structure.
Your knees threaten to give way, your throat burns as you try to take a deep breath, fear leaves you numb and clumsy in exactly the least desired way at the moment. You don't think, not really, you just act. Getting to the house across the street is like running a marathon, and raising your fists to knock on the door, swing the doorknob, requires a huge effort against the adrenaline that makes your hands shake uncontrollably. "Please help me!", your voice is hoarse, your throat is tight, it's not loud enough, no matter how much you want to scream - it's like you're trapped in a nightmare where no one can hear your screams for help. "Let me in, please, I-"
The door swings open under the weight of your fists, and you almost fall to your knees at the abrupt movement. You don't have time to think, to weigh whether this would be the smartest choice compared to the others, you don't know if he's clinging to your back or if there's still a safe distance between the two of you -
You just enter.
---
The realization of the terrible mistake you made dawns on you in the space of a few minutes of panting breaths.
The living room is empty, strangely enough, not that you really have time to think about it. A staircase appears in your field of vision, and your panicked animal brain sends you toward it, taking two steps at a time, crossing a long landing and climbing to a second floor, holding on to the railing like a wooden board salvation. "Someone please!" You manage to scream, "Please, someone! I'm being followed, call the police!"
The police couldn't help you, and if you were thinking clearly you would know that. No one, not even the army, could help you against this thing.
Yet there is no voice responding, no shuffling human movement, no clicking light. And then you see the paint cans, the tarp, the door off its hinges and against the opposite wall.
This house is under construction.
Nobody. No lights. Without help.
Spinning on your heel, you stagger back toward the stairs. But there is no more time. The door you left ajar in your moment of despair lets in a pale beam of moonlight through the unfinished wooden floor of the foyer, and you watch in mute horror as a shape fills it - huge, so tall that he has to lower his head past the doorframe, a brick wall of an alien assassin wearing a metallic mask. The soulless black holes of the visor, poor excuses for eyes, stare back at you.
Alone, in an empty and unfamiliar house. Your heart pounds in your chest, bile rising in your throat - you're trapped.
You know it. And he knows it too.
The creature walks with slow and determined steps towards the end of the stairs. You briefly, wildly consider waiting until he reaches the landing and then throwing yourself off the balcony. You can survive.
The thought makes you feel like a panicked rat, chewing on its own leg to get out of the trap.
Of course there's also the possibility that you'll break every bone in your body and die from sheer stupidity - which may be preferable to death by those sharp claws on his massive hands, but at least the latter you'll be able to escape. If you can keep your wits and your legs under you, you might be able to outwit the Predator. Evade the trap.
You almost want to laugh at your own delusions of salvation.
Your unsteady feet drag back without your eyes leaving him, but with every slow step you take back he takes one towards the stairs. The silver rays of the moon bathing his reptilian-looking skin, highlighting his entire body dyed in a singular tone of obsidian, with some lighter variations on the abdomen and in some internal points. Thick, long tendrils of 'hair' flow around the mask and over his broad shoulders, adorned with gold and silver metal beads. One of his hands - oh, huge and with long, sharp black claws - seems to want to reach out towards you, but the creature holds back for some reason, preferring to continue with the strange war of glances.
It seems that in his escape from the laboratory he recovered some of his things: in addition to the mask, he wore the wrist gauntlets, the net that covered his body, the strange piece of cloth wrapped around his hips decorated with bones and skulls, and the metallic protectors on the shins. The metallic chestplate and combi-stick weren't visible, you can't tell if he managed to recover it or not.
Regardless, he was infinitely more frightening now that you can see him outside of containment; big and broad, a solid wall of defined muscles. But it was his posture that unnerved you. The roll of his shoulders, the tension in his arms. The almost imperceptible flex of his calf muscles, as if he was preparing to jump - just waiting for a movement from you to attack.
He reaches out, this time to his own face, grabbing the metal there. Air pressure is released when the metal mask is removed.
You hold your breath.
His face was lighter than the rest of his body, a slightly grayish tone with some black streaks mixing with the dreadlock-like hair on his head, a few black barbs framing the sides of his face and along his elongated forehead. There were, of course, those flaming eyes you already knew. Instead of lips, he had four folded jaws with long teeth at the tip of each of them. Inside those jaws, you could see more of his teeth, smaller but more numerous and frighteningly sharp.
He moved his jaws as he climbed the stairs with purposeful slowness, his massive size making the stairs creak, strange clicks and rumbles emerging from his mouth.
You gasped in response to his face, shaky and scared, your backward steps continuing until your back hit the wall.
End of the line.
If you ran you would have to turn your back on him, and you couldn't do that. Never turn your back on a predator, everyone knew this rule.
It was as if you were in a horror movie or a nightmare, where you could only watch without any reaction as the monster approached. The predatory way he approached awakened the primitive instinct to flee, but your legs were shaking too much for that.
You pushed yourself further against the wall, even though there was no longer any space. It looked like he wouldn't stop walking, that he would simply knock you into the wall, but at the last second he pinned you against him and ice-cold wood at your back.
The air was knocked from you, hands flat against his chest instinctively as a way to get some distance. Even under the net, his skin was clearly much warmer and firmer than your own, smooth in some places and textured in others, the latter matching the gray patterns that spread across his extremities. He smelled mostly of moss and damp, like a forest after rain. But there was also a muffled current of pheromones, a slightly peppery scent that hit you like a tsunami.
In fact now that you felt it, it felt heavier and heavier by the second, as if he was exhaling on purpose. With each inhale, that smell seemed to make you a little more relaxed, a little more dizzy.
It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was even closer, hovering above you, his breath hot and wet, stirring your strands of hair. A gasp left your throat as his sharp jaws dove down, digging his nose or whatever it was into your hair to press into your neck - though you didn't know if that sound had been out of terror or something else. All you knew was that when he backed away, another low, animalistic growl resonated from deep in his chest, long and continuous and it took you a few awkward seconds to realize he was...purring? Purring like a cat? It was bizarre, but your own body began to uncoil, as if some force tied behind you sternum had pulled your back with him.
Your breathing is now labored for what seems like an entirely different reason. You can increasingly smell that intoxicating scent in the air and that, plus the mesmerizing purr, is making your eyes roll back slightly, a blurry haze taking over your thoughts. You can feel his sharp claws as they dig into your shirt and you, in turn, can't control the shudder in your body in response.
His scent is doing something to you, something that definitely shouldn't be happening. There's an overwhelming pressure blooming in your core, the beginnings of a dull ache that makes you clench your thighs to ease the tension. The saliva in your mouth comes down with difficulty as you swallow and lick your lips, stretching your neck to look into his eyes - god, you could barely reach the line below his chest with your head. What's happening with you? He is not human, he is not human. This is wrong.
"..." His jaws click and move, strange sounds fill the room with deep growls and hisses; he was talking, but you couldn't understand him. His eyes roam your face as he speaks his strange language, and his thumb gently wipes away a tear you hadn't even noticed falling from your eye.
You open your mouth to question, to scream for help, to beg for mercy, for anything...but nothing comes out.
His breath is hot as he bends his body until he's almost face to face with you, all predatory expression and clicking jaws, almost drooling on your skin. And then, as he forcing the words out of his depths, he says, “Mate.” He declares to you, slowly and gravely in a way that no human sound could ever be, but a little more understandable now.
You look at him in shock, not expecting a deep, English word to come out of his alien mouth. His inhuman eyes are bright enough that you clearly see the orange flames in the dim light of the night, slashed down the center with black, almost feline pupils that threaten to drag you inside.
Mate.
What the hell?
You blink slowly, the low rumble persisting as he purrs under your attention and you can tell he's trying very hard to appear less threatening to you. You bite your lip against a hysterical and completely untimely laugh that wants to escape, the tension of fear finally channeling into something different (something manic and traumatized) when he presses his broad forehead to yours in a frighteningly intimate gesture, tilting his head even further to rub your cheeks with those sharp jaws, snorting into your hair and sniffing at your neck.
The drag of the deadly fangs against your skin is exhilarating, in the worst way and you fear what is to come, a very animal and very instinctive part rooted in the most unconscious corner of your being, knows exactly what this creature is wanting from you. And the worst part, the most disturbing and embarrassing part of this realization, is that you don't know if you want to resist. Not with the way his scent and purrs are making your legs shaky and your mind fuzzy.
You're shaking, but it's not just from fear and perhaps the creature knows this, because he pulls back a little until he looks into your eyes - something very carnal and very primal vibrating almost visibly beneath that reptilian skin.
He slowly looks away from yours to fiddle with something on his wrist, and you feel like you can breathe once again without the oppressive weight of the orange orbs on you. He clicks the object on his arm for a few moments and then pulls a small metal disk out of it. It's no bigger than a small cell phone chip, and he balanced it on his fingertips.
Curious, you lean in a little. You just want to take a look at what he's doing; but before you even know what's happening, the giant puts his hand around your throat and pulls you towards him. You scream at the hostile action and try to fight him, but of course it's no use. With his strong hand, he can easily subdue you and move your head to the side, pressing the metal thing against the skin just behind your ear in a quick, burning blow.
You don't have time to react, much less to understand how he did that at that speed.
You just feel the effect.
It burns, like you're being branded, and you scream. Your whole head hurts, and for a second you wonder if he hit you against the wall in the process. It's a wrong and distorted feeling, like someone is tuning a radio inside your head, you hear screams and white noise echoing inside; so loud that you have to cover your ears with your hands, but that does little to decrease to the cacophony inside your mind.
When the alien releases you, you kneel on the ground, still writhing in discomfort and pain from the chaos in your head – and then, suddenly, everything stops. You're panting, your fingers covering your ears and your head between your knees, but when the noise quiets, you slowly look up. And although you are dizzy and a little disoriented, the presence of the creature hovering ominously above you is clear.
“W-what was that?” you mumble between quick breaths. "What the hell did you do to me!?"
The alien blinks slowly and tilts his head, jaws clicking before he responds. "Now we can talk."
Your eyes widen at the strange sound (but fluid and articulate, very different from just a few minutes ago), your stomach tightens and you pull your knees closer to your chest. “W-what?”
“It’s a translator,” he says. His voice is still very dark and booming, but his growls and clicks have somehow turned into words you can understand. “This allows your little ooman brain to understand my language.”
You swallow hard and feel the blood drain from your body. He was scary when you couldn't understand him, but he was even scarier when he could talk.
“Get up, little ooman,” he murmurs. “We should get to my ship. I don’t want to spend any more time on this miserable planet.”
You can't believe what you're hearing, everything is happening so fast. With shaky legs, you gape at him. “I…I don’t understand.”
The moment is interrupted by something when the alien turns his head towards the window of the house, the various dreads tubes rattling with the movement and his jaws opening in a low trill while a long, forked tongue at the tip comes out of his deadly-looking mouth. You gasp at the sight, but he doesn't look at you, using his own body in front of yours, as if he was instinctively hiding and protecting you from something you cannot see, feel or hear. The burgundy appendage is long and glistens with the moisture of his alien saliva, along its length there are some quivers and small barbs. He slowly waves the thing in the air, almost as if he's proving something. And then you understand.
He's smelling it.
Maybe he's even more snake-like than you thought, after all, catching scent particles in the air with his tongue.
The air is positively thick with eager anticipation, he's alert and ready and you feel it.
You don't have time to think about it too much, though. Because soon he is looking at you again, although there is no longer any sign of malice and hunger in his posture now. The way he lifts his colossal body until he's completely erect, swelling the already prominent muscles to appear more menacing, only speaks of a creature with a purpose.
"Oomans here. They must have some kind of tracker." He growls once more and clicks that gauntlet again, making you jerk back with a new wave of fear.
"Y-yes, all the containment units are after you now. It's only a matter of time before they find you and try to arrest you again. Y-you should go." You respond quietly and slowly, trying to make him understand every word.
"My ship is nearby." He grumbles sullenly. You try to control the wave of curiosity that the word 'ship' evokes in you. Seriously, how many humans have had the opportunity to see one up close? But of course you don't say anything, if you got out of this situation with your life it would be good enough. You would forget about this bizarre encounter and go on with your peaceful and boring life as if you had received the greatest gift of all.
But then he continues.
“You…” He covers your body with his once again, cornering you against the wall. Your eyes widen as he wraps a thick arm around your waist, pulling you into him. "You belong to me now, ooman. You'll come along."
You feel like you didn't get it right. “T-to space?”
He doesn't seem to want to entertain this conversation anymore and just grunts again.
It's like all the red flags go up in your mind at once.
"N-no! No, I can't, that's...I can't!"
But he doesn't listen to you, and you can't predict the sharp sting on your neck. It doesn't hurt like it used to, but he cradles your head with huge fingers almost tenderly as a sickening sensation wracks your body and makes you stagger. You feel weak, your body giving out as you babble out things that even you don't understand. Everything is getting dark and your little fingers are scratching his arms looking for support, your breathing is coming with difficulty and your eyes are unfocused.
"It's okay, mate, just give in...I'll take care of you..." He purrs, but you can barely hear him, your senses are fuzzy and lethargic and you know you're going to pass out.
The last thing you see before the darkness swallows you and the unknown can wrap its tentacles around you, are orange flames above you. Hot, consuming and scary.
And then there is nothing but emptiness.
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deunmiu-dessie · 27 days
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ⅶ▬ ⁽ 𝓌𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝑔𝑜 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, sloppy writing, NSFW,  explicit content, teratophilia, wendigo/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, gang bang, dubcon, fear, kidnapping, reader wears glasses, porn no plot. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : ya'll i hate this so much, but i wanted to post something today-- sorry if it's all over the place!
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: while babysitting for your aunt, you find yourself stranded in the living room.
꒰male!wendigo ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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 " Don't worry Aunt J, I got this. "
𝒯he woman gazes at you with a concerned expression, her eyes filled with worry. However, she manages to muster a nod and gently plants a tender kiss on your cheek. "Make sure to lock the doors before you go upstairs. The house only locks my room and the kids’. You must be upstairs before 9:30, as that's when the doors lock. If you're not there by then, you'll be locked out until morning, but even so, if you've locked the front and back doors, you'll be fine. Don't. Forget."
You give her a firm nod, "I won't, I promise."
Recent sightings of a peculiar creature moving around the neighborhood have stirred up fear among the locals, particularly your Aunt whose anxious for the safety of her kids. She sighs and lovingly kisses your forehead, "Alright, enjoy yourself."
As you wave goodbye and lock the back door behind her, you pivot to find your younger cousin watching you with excitement, struggling to manage the baby boy in her arms. You laugh and relieve her of the baby. "How about we bake some brownies together?"
She lets out a joyful cheer, giggling as she dashes towards the kitchen, her excitement palpable. You carefully place the baby in his high chair, turning him to face the bustling kitchen. His eyes widen in wonder as he takes in the scene, a big grin spreading across his little face.
You enthusiastically bring your hands together, a wide grin spreading across your face. " Shall we? "
As you cradle the baby boy in your arms, a sense of warmth and tenderness envelops you and you can't help but pout softly, and coo at him. His little tiny fingers have loosened their grip on the milk bottle, causing it to slip from his hands and land softly on your lap. His eyes are closed, and you can't help but admire the long, black lashes that frame his lids. With a gentle touch, you press a loving kiss to your cousin's forehead, careful not to disturb his sleep. 
  You rise from the comfortable couch, making sure to move with utmost care so as not to awaken the sleeping child. A soft giggle escapes your lips as you hear a shuddering sigh emanate from him. It's moments like these that remind you of the innocence and beauty of childhood, it's something you miss. 
Navigating your way around the couch, you begin your ascent up the stairs towards your Aunt's room. The woman had been nervous to leave them with your grandmother, though loving and caring, she's started to show signs of hip pains and occasional forgetfulness. Hence, your Aunt relies on you to watch over the little ones during her night shift at work.
Using your foot, you nudged the door open and switched off the lamp that cast a faint glow in the room. Gently placing the boy on the bed, you made sure his tummy was flat against the soft mattress before pulling the blanket over him and only up to his waist. You brush his hair away from his face before quietly exiting the room, the soft click of the door closing making you heave a sigh.  
Turning around, you take a couple of steps forward and enter your other cousin's room. She's lying with her laptop open on her chest, her eyes closed, and her soft snores filling the room. A smile played on your lips as you walked over to her, closed the laptop, and placed it on her desk. Using her LED remote, you turned off the strips of light around the room, plunging it into darkness.
After your eyes swiftly adapted to the darkness, you carefully tucked the covers over her petite frame and quietly exited the room. The gentle sound of her door closing brought forth another sigh of relief. Glancing at your watch, you nodded with contentment, realizing that you had a valuable half an hour before all the room doors would be securely locked for the night. It provided ample time to tidy up and prepare for the following day.
As you made your way down the stairs, the creaking noise made you wince, fully aware that you couldn't afford for either child to stir. Swallowing hard, you descended the stairs with newfound caution. As you finally reached the bottom of the staircase, a wave of relief washed over you. The tension that had been building in your chest slowly began to dissipate without any sounds of the baby crying or the little girl calling out.
You started by straightening up the living room, turning on some lo-fi music, and cleaning quickly. After switching off the main light, you flick on the display light, which emits a soft glow, barely doing anything to brighten the room. The kitchen took a lot longer, particularly when clearing out the solidified chocolate from the bowls and wiping down the counters. In the end, it took a total of 20 minutes to finish cleaning the kitchen.
You couldn't help but feel a surge of nervousness as you stole another glance at your watch. The timer displayed only 10 minutes left, intensifying your anxiety. Shaking your head, you dismissed your nerves and concentrated on preparing for tomorrow.
 Lost in thought, the sound of your watch going off caused your heart to skip a beat. Cursing, you quickly packed up, whispering small, scared 'no's to yourself. A faint cheer escaped you as you completed the task, rushing to ascend the stairs on time. Your heart sank as the resounding click of all the doors locking echoed in your ears.
You felt a slight vibration and immediately retrieved your phone from your back pocket. It was your Aunt, making sure everything was okay with you and the kids.
 Auntie : Hey girly, are you and the kids in alright? Did you make it to the room?
 Nervously, you gulped, your hands shaking and palms moist with sweat. Without hesitation, you promptly responded, your teeth prodding at your bottom lip.
 You : Yes we did, the kids are asleep.
 Lying to your aunt made your heartache, but you were too prideful to tell her the truth. Instead of offering a reply, she simply responded with a thumbs-up emoji and a heart. Letting out a heavy, ragged breath, you swiftly returned your phone to your pocket. Descending the stairs, your eyes slowly adapted to the dimness. The previously illuminated display had now turned off automatically, leaving you huddled on the couch, overwhelmed by a sense of unease.
  Following a good thirty-minute interval, your fear gradually subsided. You reached for your phone, scrolling through social media to find no one online.
  Growing more confident, you entertained the possibility that whatever had caused unrest in the community had either disappeared or would not manifest tonight. As you removed your glasses, your vision blurred slightly, your body relaxed, and your gaze fixated on the phone screen that was dangerously close to your face. ( It was probably why you had glasses in the first place. ) 
 Time slipped away faster than expected, and suddenly, it was midnight. The profound silence stirred up a fresh wave of concern, as the absence of wildlife sounds, like crickets and owls, made you feel the urge to curl up and disappear into the couch.
Your phone vibrated,  signaling the low battery before shutting down abruptly. You clicked your tongue in annoyance and silently made your way towards the charger, plugging it in. Slipping out of your tight-fitting jeans, you remained in your undergarments, stretching your legs. Folding the jeans neatly, you placed them on the back of a nearby chair before returning to the couch and settling in comfortably with a soft, velvet blue throw draped over your exposed legs.
    As tiredness crept in, your eyes began to droop, causing your vision to blur and lose focus. The sudden piercing bark of a dog jolted you out of your drowsy state, causing your entire body to freeze. Which was so unusual for the neighbor's dogs, who were known for their friendly demeanor and familiarity with the community, this feral, unfamiliar bark made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.
The barking grew increasingly louder and more aggressive, accompanied by menacing snarls. The sounds elicited a pounding sensation in your chest, so intense that it caused a searing pain. Unexpectedly, the barking and snarling abruptly ceased, but rather than providing any relief, it caused a profound sense of despair, causing your heart to sink.
 Holding your breath, your eyes widened as a towering, monstrous, and slender figure glided past the frosted windows adjacent to the door. Its voice was distorted, emitting broken and eerie sounds, desperately pleading in its otherworld gravelly voice, "Help me. Someone help." 
The arrangement of your Aunt's house was peculiar. The back door functioned as the main entrance, revealing the dining room and kitchen upon entry. Moving forward led to the living room, while continuing onwards brought you to the front door. Situated to the right of the front door were the stairs leading to both your Aunt's and the children's rooms.
At the moment, you found yourself positioned in the living room, standing tall with your gaze fixed on the door. In an instant, the door seemed to draw nearer than you had initially perceived, causing a sense of fear to grip you. As it vanished beyond the second window, you released a sigh of relief, nearly letting out a scream as the shadow reappeared by the window, as if it had detected the sound of your breath.
The door was locked, it couldn't get in, right? Your vision became obscured by tears, and you chastised yourself for your stupidity. Part of the prep was making sure that the doors that couldn't be locked by the system were locked manually. Regrettably, in your rush to reach the room, you had completely forgotten to lock the front door.
 The turning of the doorknob emits a high-pitched squeak, prompting you to immediately flatten yourself against the couch while covering your mouth and nose with your hands. The grating sound of the door opening compels you to tightly shut your eyes. A cool draft of air infiltrates the room, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Within this tense ambiance, a menacing snarl and a huff reverberate, accompanied by the unsettling noise of bones cracking as the intruder maneuvers to enter the house.
The soft whimper of the floorboards serves as a warning of its presence, prompting you to reluctantly open your eyes. A sudden gasp escapes your lips as you behold its towering horns, skeletal face morphing into a snout, and blood-red eyes. With a shudder, you tightly shut your eyes as the creature's head swivels in your direction, swiftly advancing toward where you lay on the couch.
Merely a few inches away from your position, the creature sniffs the air intently before gradually drawing nearer. As you open your eyes once more, you carefully scrutinize its appearance. Contrary to your initial perception, the creature's physique is not as slender as it seemed from afar. Adorned with a layer of fur, its arms display a muscularity that is not excessive, striking a harmonious balance. Furthermore, its thighs possess a substantial thickness, evoking a sense of strength. However, as your gaze trails down, you notice that its hind legs taper into a much skinnier form.
The creature looms closer than anticipated, its intense heat palpable against your skin. Despite its towering presence, its warm breath gently brushes your face. Your breathing stops as you feel something drag across your skin, it's rock hard but there's a softness to it. It pulsates rhythmically, and you swear that you can feel veins throbbing along its surface, a sticky and viscous substance oozing along your skin, inflicting a searing sensation.
You come to the realization that you are positioned just below the creature's waist, nearly at the same height. Was it– its cock touching you? Tears escape from your eyes, and you find yourself unable to move as it accidentally nudges against your lips. The creature is still in search of the sound it heard earlier, but your motionless state and barely audible breaths are causing confusion. You wonder briefly if it's blind.
You ache to turn your head away from it, yet you're acutely aware that any movement on your part could potentially alert it, and you could be killed. You endure it, eyes watching its head whip around for you. It leans closer, hips following suit. Scared that it'll notice your presence, in a hushed surrender, you part your lips, just in time for its throbbing member to slide into your warm, saliva-laden mouth— you had refrained from swallowing, fearing that the sound might betray your presence.  Underestimated, its long thick cock pushes against your throat, forcing you to suppress any sound that threatens to escape. Perhaps you should've just made a run for it.
 You can feel the hefty weight of its balls against your chin and clench your eyes shut as it jerks its hips back, causing you to exhale shakily through your nose. With its motion paused you observe one of its hind legs tapping on the wooden floor, seemingly quivering with delight from the sensation of being in your mouth.
Tears stream down your face as you stifle your sobs, desperately attempting to keep yourself from gagging. The creature's hips begin to thrust with an untamed ferocity, its primal growls and snarls resonating through its chest. Its flavor is raw and invigorating, not entirely repulsive but rather tolerable. The living room fills with the wet, squelching sound as saliva overflows in your mouth. Its member plunges deeper into your throat, causing drool to cascade down your cheek. 
 Your pussy throbs and clenches despite your fear. The disgust you feel towards yourself for being turned on in such a situation only heightens the sensation of disdain. The beast emits guttural grunts now, its hips faltering, and you can sense its impending climax. Arousal drips from your cunt, coating your labia and making your panties stick to you uncomfortably.
 As terrified as you are, the urge to swallow is becoming overwhelmingly difficult to ignore. Squeezing your eyes tightly shut, you succumb to the temptation, swallowing as discreetly as possible, relieved that the sound remains unheard. However, this action seems to have an unexpected effect on the creature, as the feeling of your throat squeezing the tip of its cock causes it to thrust forward abruptly, causing you to gag, feeling it nearly reach the depths of your throat.
 Thick ropes of tacky, sweet cum coat your throat white and you find it hard to swallow. Its legs shudder for a moment and it continues to move its hips in your mouth before it thankfully backs away from the couch, seemingly satisfied.
 Anticipation filled your gaze as you observed it retreat toward the entrance., almost sighing in relief as you parted your thighs, feeling the tension release as your pussy lips spread apart, the sensation of wetness trickling down your thighs.
 Sniff
 Your gaze darted upwards, and a surge of fear coursed through you, and it made you want to scream. The creature was gazing in your direction, yet not directly at you. The door became a distant memory as it slowly retraced its steps toward your position, its nose held high in the air. You realized it must have caught the intoxicating scent of your arousal. In a discreet attempt, you closed your legs, hoping to dissuade its advances.
   But it persisted, undeterred. With your eyes clenched shut, tears streamed down, obscuring your vision. It halted at your head, lowering itself to take a deep, lingering sniff, still unsatisfied. Lower and lower it ventured, until it paused just above your belly button. Another teasing sniff, followed by a playful chuff, before it finally made its way towards your tightly closed legs.
 With a gentle nudge, its snout caressed your thighs, urging you to surrender. You hesitated, knowing that if you resisted, it would employ a more forceful approach. Reluctantly, you yielded, parting your thighs, cursing your decision to forgo pajama bottoms after removing your jeans. A jolt of surprise coursed through you as its elongated, slightly pointed tongue sensually traced the contours of your inner thigh.
Drawing nearer, it sniffed intently, determined to locate the exact origin of the alluring scent. One of its legs rested on the couch, its body contorted to get closer to your pulsating entrance. Though fear gripped you, causing tremors, your wet pussy clenched and released, eagerly anticipating something, anything. The heat of its breath brushed against your legs, its horns pressed against your stomach. Its elongated black tongue slithered forward, disappearing between your thighs, causing your soaked panties to dampen even more so as it leisurely licked and coiled around the fabric.
Eagerly, it buried its head between your luscious thighs, its horns grazing against your quivering stomach. Your body tensed as its teeth sank into your delicate underwear, tearing it apart with horrifying ease. A provocative sniff caused a blush to bloom on your cheeks, and you resisted the urge to close your legs.
And suddenly you’re lost in a haze of desire, your eyes rolled back, surrendering to the intense pleasure coursing through your cunt. Its tongue skillfully traced a path up your slick folds, lavishing attention on your throbbing clit with a delicious roughness. Your legs tensed, responding to the electrifying sensations, while its commanding hands firmly grasped your thighs, ensuring a steady grip as it delved deeper into your pussy.
The relentless drag of its slippery, warm tongue had you gasping for air. It was evident that the beast had developed a fascination with your tender bundle of nerves. As it continued to lap at it, your juices drooled from your throbbing pussy, the thin part of its tongue coiled around your clit, squeezing and prodding it.
You couldn't help but moan out as you came, pussy spasming. Paying no mind to the noise, it continued to lick up your moist slit, rumbling as it stumbled upon your small, tight entrance. Withdrawing, it grasped your legs tightly, almost folding you in half, pressing your thighs against your breasts.
What was happening? What was it doing?
  The sheer heaviness of its throbbing member grazing against your drenched folds elicited a sharp intake of breath, at this point you didn't care if you made noise or not. That thing would surely rip your pussy apart.
 It prodded at your entrance, clumsily trying to find your hole. When the head of its cock finally slid against you, it snarled lowly, the tip of its cock getting drenched from your arousal. The wendigo slowly inched in and you whine out as the bulbous tip slowly pops in, painfully stretching you. Your thighs tremble as your pussy reluctantly give way to its overwhelming thickness, pulsating around the beast timidly.
You're a moaning mess, completely enthralled as its fat, long cock disappears into your dripping cunt. Every vein and ridge pulsates against your sensitive walls. Your tightness clenches around its cock, causing it to emit a deep growl as it sinks deeper and deeper. The bulbous head tenderly grazes your cervix, while its weighty, thick balls press firmly against your ass. Your whimpers and spasms intensify, your eyes rolling back and your nipples straining against your blouse. It remains motionless for a moment, its breaths labored and its grip tightening against your trembling thighs.
With a forceful pull and a swift thrust, it sets a punishing rhythm. The silhouette of its member presses against your abdomen, and it makes you even whine in embarrassment, cheeks flushing. The fear has ebbed away and you can only moan and cry for more, you can feel the drag of its pelvis touch your aching clit when it pulls out. The pain and pleasure meld together, distorting your vision, your eyes bleary and lips parted. 
   A particular rough thrust against your g-spot has you cumming hard and long, your pussy gripping its cock tightly, milking it with fervor. It thrusts into you once more, gently stretching your cervix open, its tip finding a comfortable resting place. Hot, thick ropes of cum flood your womb, the sheer girth of its member ensuring not a single drop escapes, it lasts for a few minutes until your stomach extends slightly and you're too tired to move.
As it withdraws, a torrent of cum spills onto the couch, causing your belly to deflate slightly, yet not completely. The wendigo is finally sheathed, its cock nowhere in sight.
 In an instant, a sensation of weightlessness engulfs you, as if you are floating on air. You find yourself nestled against the powerful chest of the creature, your mind clouded with desire and confusion. Despite your desperate attempts, you are unable to break free from its hold, your throat throbbing with pain. 
  In the blink of an eye, the two of you are whisked away, leaving the safety of the house behind. Your feeble attempt to reach for the door is futile, as it vanishes into thin air. Now, surrounded by the mysterious allure of the forest, you realize that you are not alone. More of those captivating creatures encircle you, their presence both exhilarating and unnerving.
 Tears cascade down your delicate cheeks as your gaze is drawn to their thick, long, heavy cocks hanging between their legs— despite how absolutely terrified you are, your pussy begins to ache and drip. Gradually, you are lowered onto the soft ground, the sensation of the grass teasing your supine form. One of the creatures steps forward, communicating with its companion in a series of excited chitters. 
  Your trembling legs are gently parted, allowing a thicker, lengthier shaft to penetrate your eager entrance. The keening sound of your wanton moans fills the air, blending with the rustling of the grass in the secluded clearing. Suddenly, something nudges your lips, and as you gaze upwards, another creature stands before you, its gaze fixated upon your vulnerable form. Without hesitation, you part your lips, your eyes widening in anticipation as their hips thrust forward, plunging into your mouth, instantly throat-fucking you. You splutter and gag, fear settling deep in your chest.
 Your gaze becomes misty as your eyes well up, and as you peer through them, you notice a multitude of over 50 more of them, cocks oozing with precum, waiting for a chance to fuck you themselves.
Is this how you'd be living now?
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𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆; 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒃𝒚
𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; tommy notices your pregnancy before you do
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the night was calm, the moon casting a soft silvery glow through the curtains of the room you and tommy shared. as the streets outside murmured with the remnants of the day, you lay in bed, shifting and turning. the sheets rustled as you tried to find a comfortable position, your restlessness a silent symphony in the dimly lit room.
lying next to you, tommy couldn’t help but notice. his gaze followed the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers absently brushed against the fabric of your shy pink nightie.
after a moment, tommy propped himself up on an elbow, his brow furrowing with a careful mixture of annoyance and concern. you glance at your husband, eyes meeting his icy ones in the quiet of the night.
“can’t sleep?” he asked softly, his voice a low murmur that carried a depth of understanding for your situation.
you sighed, a hint of frustration tugging at your tender lips. “it’s like i can’t get comfortable. oh tommy, i’ve been tossing and turning all night.”
tommy reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against yours. “something botherin’ you, angel?”
you hesitated, gaze holding his for a moment longer before you shook your head. “i just … can’t get comfortable,” you whine, pouting your lips.
he opens his arms for you and you lean into his comfortable embrace. albeit, it was much easier to feel lulled with him beside you. it was a delicacy that had become so fleeting within a few months of marriage. usually he'd come to bed after you'd fallen asleep, and woke before you started to stir.
as the silence lingered, tommy’s gaze softened, his eyes tracing the soft slopes of your face. in that moment, a realization seemed to settle over him, piece by piece, like a puzzle coming together.
“love,” he began slowly, his voice a mix of tenderness and curiosity. “i’ve been noticing things lately. changes.”
you met his gaze, your curiosity piqued. “changes?”
tommy’s fingers brushed against your flushed cheek, his touch gentle as he spoke. “you’ve been feeling sick over certain smells, right? complaining about the food in the kitchen?”
you blinked, clearly taken aback by his sudden but astute observations. “that’s true.”
“ and i’ve noticed you’ve been tired. more than usual,” he continued, his thumb tracing circles on your skin
you nodded slowly, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dawning in your eyes. “i’ve been struggling to keep my eyes open lately.”
tommy paused, his gaze searching yours before he spoke again, his voice softer. “and there’s the restlessness. tossing and turning all night.”
your breath caught as the realization dawned on you, and you met his gaze with a swirling mixture of emotions.
“tommy, what are you…?”
you trail off as his fingers trace your silky nightie that had once fit just right around your curves but was now becoming snug around your waist. his fingers slid down to cup your gently rounded tummy, his touch light and deliberate.
“your hips,” he said, his voice a hushed murmur. “they’re different now. rounder. as well as your tummy…”
you blushed, your nervous laughter a mixture of shyness and surprise. “oh, so you’ve noticed that?”
you'd figured it had something to do with the way you've been indulging lately. you were thankful your husband chose not to mention your newfound voracious appetite. you were ashamed of how unladylike your eating habits had become, especially on nights when your husband didn't accompany you to dinner.
his gaze held yours, his smile tender as he continued to trace over your softer tummy. “couldn’t very well miss it now, could i?”
tommy’s thumb brushed against your knuckles, his touch a reassuring anchor once he sees you flush at his teasing. “don’t worry, angel, it suits you.”
you smile shyly and bury your face into his shoulder. a moment passes and tommy speaks again.
his fingers brushed against your stomach as he spoke, “i think i might know what’s going on, love.”
a beat of silence passes, then, you realize what your husband could be hinting at.
"yeah?" you breathe, staring into your husband's eyes to confirm your suspicions. you'd figured that you might've been carrying when your monthly had failed to arrive for a second month in a row, but it didn't quite register as a concern until tommy had started to notice.
"i think you're expecting." his words are tender, both of you sharing a moment of silent revaluation.
"tommy..."
you hadn't been trying for a baby, though neither of you were opposed to the idea of children. you'd discussed it on your wedding night, and tommy had promised that he'd give you as many children as you wanted under the humble request that he'd be able to have a year to spend with just his wife before adding any new additions.
“i understand if you’re not happy about this, i know you said you—”you begin to ramble, but get cut off by your husband pressing a stern finger over your lips to prevent any more anxious words from waltzing out.
“shh, love,” he murmurs, “‘m happy about it.” your can feel your eyes fill with tears at his words. mood swings already, you think, how did he notice before you did?
“truly?” you look up into his eyes to see a familiar tenderness, reserved only for you and now apparently your child.
he sighs happily and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.“truly.”
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