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[monstersandmaw]

Male vampire x female character (Țepeș x Adriane - Full Moon Motorcycles) - Chapter One (sfw)

Hello all! While I'm finishing up this month's Patreon exclusive for you (m. dragonborn!), here's nearly 7k words of what was supposed to be the first in the Full Moon Motorcycle 'universe'. It's set before Demon's, Oats', and Pumpkin's stories!

I hope you come to love Țepeș as much as I have! He's got an interesting backstory, and although he looks intimidating, he's actually a huge softie under all that muscle and height. If you know Demon from his story, you get to see a different side of him in this, and you'll see why he was so keen not to introduce his human love interest to the gang after this (shitty) behaviour...

This is going to be up on Patreon on early release, but I'm keeping Demon's story back until it's finished so it doesn't spoil things, so keep that in mind if you leave a comment please :)

Content: plus size female character (unaware of the supernatural) is given a helping hand by the owner of a motorcycle shop, and returns later in the day to thank him, only to find half of the Full Moon Motorcycle bikers standing outside the shop that evening and goofing around. When she's offered a ride home, the tall, darkly-clad, silent biker nicknamed Țepeș volunteers to take her on his massive, black Ducati Streetfighter V4...

Wordcount: 6809

Extract:

A dark, scuff-sided delivery moped — unsurprisingly missing its left mirror — clipped her elbow as it sped down the side street, spewing a cloud of nasty petrol fumes strong enough to make her cough. As she cradled her arm against her chest to rub at her elbow, Adriane’s heavy, cotton bag jolted down off her shoulder to catch painfully in the crook of her arm, and she cursed elaborately.

“Watch where you’re going, arsehole!” she yelling after the moped a second later, but they were long gone.

To add insult to injury, she snagged her boot heel on a crack in the pavement and tripped backwards to land hard enough on her ass that all the breath left her body in an inelegant grunt, and she was lucky she didn’t bite her tongue off when her jaw clacked shut under the force of the landing. The straining seams of her ancient and over-full tote bag finally ruptured on impact, and loose sheafs of paper fluttered up and away like white doves into the blustery autumn air.

“Shitting fuck!” she shouted and scrabbled to catch the remaining ones. If all of those pages got away, she’d have nothing to show at the interview — for which she was now probably going to be late — and there was no way they’d take her seriously without some kind of portfolio. And boy did she need this job.

“You ok there?” a rough, bass voice asked from right behind her. “Here, lemme help you.”

“My stuff,” Adriane choked out around a sob without turning around. “Shit…” Tears of raw frustration, tinged with exhaustion, filled her eyes and she bowed her head, willing herself not to burst into tears on the sidewalk outside some gritty-looking motorcycle shop in the back street of this new and relatively unfamiliar town.

“Here, come on. Let’s get you up.”

“What’s the fucking point?” she groaned, but she did get her legs under her and let the stranger help her to her feet with a kindly hand at her elbow. He released her and stepped back, and she smoothed the floaty, floral-printed, chiffon skirt down over her curvy thighs and tugged irritably at the hem of her cropped denim jacket before looking up at her rescuer for the first time.

She found an older man moving away to a respectful distance now that she was upright, and she regarded him a little warily. He wasn’t particularly tall or threatening though, with his wavy, salt and pepper hair falling scruffily around his ears and just brushing the collar of his blue-and-white-checked shirt. He had a short, grey beard, kind, smiling brown eyes and a significant barrel-belly. He also looked like maybe the kind of guy who rode a Harley and took no nonsense when pushed, but he seemed harmless enough as he steadied her and then stepped back another pace.

Adriane looked along the street and saw that one of the pages of her portfolio had landed face-down in a puddle, and the rest were lost to the wind. “Fuck,” she said again. She was forced to clutch the torn remnants of her bag to her chest to keep its remaining contents together, which felt like a metaphor if ever she’d known one.

“What’s wrong?” the man asked, raising his head slightly and breathing in as if he’d caught the scent of a familiar perfume. As he did, his hazel brown eyes caught the light oddly and seemed to flash amber. “You hurt yourself?”

“I’m good,” she said automatically, then added with a gesture at the soggy pages, “That was my portfolio though. I just got it printed this morning, and I don’t have the time or the money to get it printed again. My interview starts in —” she glanced at the old, analogue wristwatch on her left wrist. Only now, after the fall, it was cracked. Well, at least it wasn’t some fancy smartwatch. None of those for her with her bank account idling somewhere in the low double figures. “— twenty-eight minutes.”

“How fancy are we talking?” he asked and she frowned, confused. The man jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and explained. “I’ve got a fairly decent printer in the shop for flyers and stuff. If you’ve got a thumb drive with the files on, you can print it off here.”

She blinked. Miracle of miracles, she did actually have the USB drive in her jacket pocket. “You serious? I can’t pay you.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” he said with a hearty smile. “C’mon. Time’s wasting and you ain’t got long.”

Adriane bit her lip, moved by the kindness of this complete stranger, and followed him into the bike shop.

Read the whole thing right now over on Patreon, and consider joining the Little Ghosties tier for access to this month's Patreon exclusive story, as well as my entire back catalogue of Patreon exclusive content.

[ilustrariane]

Hmm..so i heard this art challenge was trending?

here`s my take lol

Rain from my webcomic Atnomen - in the AU - My Cinnamon Girl, which you can read fully on PATREON, beware very dirty, but wholesome, content

[satansfreshhottiddymilk]

Ollie singlehandedly saving the horse population on twitttttterr 🤠

[moonloredraws]

Lunar Sacrifice is complete and our twink has grown scales! The link to the patreon post is in content source, once I've come back from my convention this week I'll post it to Etsy as well, as usual, the PDF from Etsy will be 5 euros!

[mxnsterbabe]

I'm launching my Patreon on the first of next month! If you join, you can have lots of cool rewards like;

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[eruden-writes]

Scent Match - Part 8 (Augustine + Amber)

Summary: When Amber Dyer decided to attend a Creator Con, she never expected to run into Of Wolf and Blood lycan heartthrob, Augustine Prime.

But, there he was, stooping over her table, asking to buy the unflattering drawing of his character. Valuing integrity over taking money from a celebrity and running (though she was sorely tempted,) Amber finishes the sketch and delivers it to Augustine.

However, he continues to doggedly pursue her and entwine their lives.

All because of her scent.

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First Part - Master List - Previous Part

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If you like my content, please consider supporting me on: 

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Quietly, the two headed to Augustine’s bedroom. Amber noted he hadn’t even bothered to turn off any lights, but that could have been excitement making him careless. If he even wanted her, she thought. Glancing sidelong at the man, he seemed rather calm. As if this occurrence wasn’t actually some long desired outcome.

In reality, elated prickles danced along his back and through his skin. It was only thanks to years of acting that Augustine didn’t grab Amber and drag her back into the bedroom. He actively fought his imagination as other images of tossing her directly onto his bed, climbing over her, letting his mouth taste her threatened to break his cool exterior.

As they made it into his room, Augustine barely kept from looking back at Amber to see how her watchful eyes took in the area as he turned on the light. The elegant navy blue and heather grey decor wasn’t really his own taste. It was meant to be pleasing and lush, while equally being easy to clean between guests.

The colorations were the last thing on Amber’s mind, however. No amount of preparation could have steeled her against a hotel bedroom. It was so surreal. Another full wall of windows that led to another balcony. Curtains open, overlooking the city skyline and the streets below as the night sky spilled overhead. As she walked further in, her shoes sunk into the soft carpet. Thicker than even what she had at home.

Her eyes gleaned over the bed, noting its size, but anxiety had her turning her attention elsewhere. A full-sized dresser with a large mirror sat near a plump cushy chair. With doors cracked open, Amber also noticed a walk-in closet and an en suite bathroom. There was evidence of Augustine’s stay, as well. Previously worn clothes, a pile of business cards on the bedside table, a book beneath the lamp, an empty soda bottle. Not exactly a mess, but certainly not pristine.

“Should I add a little zhuzh to the show?” Augustine winked as Amber turned a curious look to him. She realized she hadn't even noticed his clothing earlier. Augustine had already slid off his suit jacket, draping it atop the dresser, leaving his button-up and trousers on. for the moment. His hands were poised at the neck of his shirt, fingering the buttons teasingly.

Briefly, Amber Wondered exactly how he thought to zhuzh up his strip show. Probably with theatrics and gyration.

“Only if you want me laughing the entire time.” At Augustine’s curious sound, Amber elaborated with a helpless shrug, “I’ve had partners in the past try to sexily strip for me. It just makes me giggle. I don't know.”

“Well, thank you for telling me and saving my ego.” Augustine chuckled and gave a nod as he pulled his shirt up and over his head. Like the jacket, he laid it atop the dresser and kicked off his shoes and socks. All the while, he felt Amber’s eyes watching him, waiting for the last articles of clothing to drop. He could antagonize her a little, he knew. If he waited to divest himself of his trousers, he could force her to ask or initiate the last bit of stripping.

“Don’t make me regret being nice," she mumbled, shooting him a warning look while trying not to stare as he disrobed. But it was hard not to. The contours  and planes of his body drew the eye, making Amber think of all those masterfully chiseled statues in art museums. Her hand raised, but stopped short of touching him. “So, I should just touch you?”

“Yep, however and wherever you want. I’m pretty sturdy.” He thumped himself on his bare chest in demonstration. “Just, with you touching me, some things might, ah, rise to attention. Y’know?”

Amber raised a hand again, but it paused as she tilted her gaze back to his face. "Are you seriously okay with this?”

“Most definitely. I want you to want to marry me, so anything that’ll ease your worries is something I want to do.” Augustine gave a nod, exemplifying his own agreement to the circumstances. When his nodding paused, his expression turned curious. “Although, I’m kinda surprised you jumped to this instead of dates.”

Amber remained silent. She didn’t actually believe he’d want to go on any dates, if she was being honest. Amber was still fairly certain once the weekend was over, that was it. Sure, Augustine had given her his contact information and she’d even spoken to his manager, but once they were apart, that was it. It would be so easy for him to pretend it never happened.

“You can still back out of this at any time, Mr. Prime,” she answered softly as she reached out and brushed her palm gingerly down his chest.

His body heat bled from him, through Amber’s hand, and up her arm. From the edge of her vision, she watched Augustine tense and saw how his gaze intensely followed her hand as it skimmed down his torso. Absentminded, her fingers followed the edge of his chest hair, down over his abdomen. “And I know so many people would jump at the chance to marry you. Hell, so many would jump at getting you into bed.”

Before Augustine could ask her where she was going, Amber finished softly, “So I just… I don’t know why I have so much trouble with the thought.”

“What?” He still couldn’t follow her words or reasoning. Especially with her fingers touching him so lightly. Part of him wanted to grasp her by the wrist and press her palm flush to his chest, just to feel more of her.

“Other people can just jump into bed with strangers without thinking about it. It’s so easy for them. I guess I’m kinda using this as an opportunity to figure out what's-" Wrong with me. "-different about me."

Something in her scent turned sour, Sad. He didn't like that. He really didn’t like that if he was related to the cause.

Before he could even consider if it'd be a good move, Augustine carefully caught Amber by her wrist. When she turned a questioning look to him, his other hand gently cupped the side of her face. "I like the way you are, Amber. Don't push yourself if you don't want to."

The moment was getting too tender. This was supposed to be dirty and quick. Amber had been fully prepared to be rejected or even coolly let go after they did whatever she had the nerve to do. She wasn't prepared for this. The warm expression in his eyes, his palm softly on her cheek, her own heart traitorously thrumming.

“You’re surprisingly hairy." Amber dragged her attention from him, cheeks burning. She needed a distraction from the moment. “I thought Follywood types waxed everything.”

Augustine let his hand slip from her cheek as she turned her face subtly away. He shook off his disappointment with a shrug and a half-laugh, “Hard to wax when you’re prone to growing patches of hair or fur when excited.”

Amber hummed noncommittally, not ready to address his admission at being excited. “How was the charity date?”

“It was fine. A married couple won me.” He watched Amber as she fiddled with his trouser button and zipper. With her face turned away from his line of sight, she obviously cuy trying to gain some emotional distance. Or maybe she was embarrassed with how red her cheeks had grown.

Taking her time with fasteners, if only to disguise her trembling fingers, Amber continued, “What were they like?”

“Nice enough. One of them, Asher, owns a bookstore in Portland and their spouse, Trin, does IT for some big company. We chatted about the series, both books and the show, and they tried to get information about the new season from me.” Augustine let the words amble over his lips as he watched Amber. She succeeded in loosening his trousers, letting them fall.

Her refusal to look at him shifted away from shame and toward attentive curiosity. The outline of his dick beneath the fabric of his boxer briefs teased at her thoughts. With as tightly his excitement strained at the material, she didn’t need much imagination to figure out his girth and length. However, she still couldn’t bring herself to touch him there. No, her hands dawdled at his thighs, teasing the wisps of hair - slowly becoming thicker - that dotted his legs.

Frustrated with the lack of touch and the lack of Amber looking at him, Augustine narrowed his eyes, deciding to prod at her. “They were both pretty flirty too.”

Without thinking, Amber firmly palmed at his erection as she rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to get jealous.”

He couldn't stop the roguish grin that split his lips, hips rising to meet her palm. “Obviously. You’re the one here with your hand on my dick and not them.”

Both the heat and hardness in her hand brought a flush to Amber’s face. She couldn’t very well pull away, though. Especially not with his damned smug grin on his face.

Forcing her actions to be fluid and smooth, she kneaded at him through the fabric. “Why didn’t you end the night with them? Sounds like they’d have been down for it.”

Though firmer, her touch still wasn’t enough for him. The craving for more scraped along his insides. He barely stopped himself from grinding against her touch, silently begging for more. “They weren’t you, Amber.”

“You say that so easily, but I guess you’ve probably had tons of relationships and, like, bacchanal-level orgies, huh?” Amber found herself rolling her eyes, yet again, as her tone inched toward sarcastic. It was easier to grasp onto her image of him than admit his words had any effect on her.

Likewise, it was easier just to let her hands move than to think about what she was doing. Unthinking instincts guided her actions. Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of his boxer briefs, yanking them down. His cock bounced out eagerly, bobbing under her gaze. Veins strained under the skin, complexion dark and ruddy compared to the rest of him.

On a conscious-level, Amber absolutely ignored her curious thought of his taste or how her mouth watered in preparation. Even as she knelt before him, hands braced on his hips, her cognitive dissonance kept her mouth running. “Missing out on a potential threesome isn't such a bummer for you.”

“Mhmn…” Sharp excitement sliced through Augustine as Amber lowered to her knees, her breath ghosting over his member with the closer proximity. Involuntarily, his cock flexed, an ache burning for more attention.

“Oh my gods, you have.” Finally, she turned her gaze to his face again. She’d see how full his beard had grown, how thick the hair on his chest and arms had become in such a short amount of time.

Something in his stomach flipped, seeing surprise and a hint of curiosity swimming in her eyes. Excitement lurched further as she - seemingly absentmindedly - dragged her parted lips against the side of his shaft, her hand stroking the neglected side.

“There’s been some.” He shrugged, throat tightening as he silently choked down a groan. Despite his restraint, his body was too tempted by the heat of her mouth and leaned toward her. He wanted to do more. So. Much. More. “They’re not my favorite thing. They’re pretty smelly with all those sweaty bodies.”

She could imagine Augustine, an obnoxious enrobed Dionysus-Adonis hybrid with a crowd of people flocking to him as he lazily drank a decanter of wine with a smug grin. Heat flared down Amber imagining the sight. Suddenly, she also realized what exactly her mouth was doing as his dick throbbed against her lips.

Masking her shame, Amber pulled away from Augustine, sitting back on her heels. Craning her neck to look up at him, once more very aware of their size difference, she clamped down on her fluttering heart.

A flicker of disappointment passed his features at her sudden distance, but it quickly upended at her words. “Alright, I’m done with this form. It’s pretty basic. Shift.”

Giving an unimpressed wave of her hand, she waited for Augustine to comply or refuse.

The bright smile gave away his answer as he straightened from a slight slouch. “Yes, ma’am.”

Augustine didn’t even take a step back before focusing on the change. Amber watched as his hair thickened - creeping along his entire body in a ripple - into a pelt of fur the same color as Augustine’s regular hair color. The previously pointed ears grew larger, extending the curvature of his jaw until they angled near the crest of his head. His nose and jaw elongated, becoming something between a wolf’s snout and a human’s face. Similar growth happened to his feet and hands, she realized, as a toe claw nudged against her knee. She swallowed, dutifully trying to ignore the images that tickled her thoughts at the size of Augustine’s hands. He was certainly more canine than she’d seen of him in-person, so far.

She let herself glean over his entire body, though she did keep his dick in her peripheral. Already hard, his member appeared to grow larger, likely in proportion to his own everything getting bigger, and turned from ruddy to bright red. Even the head narrowed at the tip, flaring a little before the shaft to take a more arrowhead-esque appearance.

Again, stray thoughts bombarded Amber's head. How did he taste? How hot and solid would his cock feel on her tongue? Or better yet, inside her? Amber's insides clenched at the idea and she abruptly remembered she wore a dress thanks to imaginative 'easy access' scenarios blooming in her mind.

In this form, Amber’s scent became fuller-bodied in his nose, weighing down on his tongue. His very tastebuds buzzed. It made Augustine want to drag his tongue along every inch of Amber, taste her fully and completely.

"You're very large." She critically eyed Augustine, trying to determine just how much bigger he had grown. Though his fur made him appear larger than he was, she thought.

"Thank you."

It took Amber a beat to realize why Augustine sounded so delighted and smug. He thought she was talking about his cock! A blush seared over her face as she glared up at him. "That's not what I meant!"

Amber's glower only made Augustine's grin grow. "It's ok. I know I pack an … intimidating package."

She didn't know what prompted her retaliation. Maybe her curiosity just won out. Maybe she wanted to knock that smirk off Augustine's lips. Either way, Amber found her hand wrapping and the base of his cock, beneath the bulbous knot. With little preamble, she took him in her mouth. Under her tongue, Augustine tensed, surprised by the sudden tactic.

Closing her eyes, Amber focused on taking more and more of his dick with every bob of her head. She listened as his breathing hitched, heard how his clawed toes dug into the carpet, felt how his muscles twitched and tightened. She even thought she could feel a breeze from a wagging tail, but that may have been ham imagination.

Each reaction ignited a long forgotten feeling. Something she rarely felt herself. Smugness.

It wasn't until her lips met his pubus, thick fur tickling her nose, that Amber stilled and peered up at Augustine. Against her tongue, his member weighed heavy and hot. She held back a smile as his cock twitched excitedly when their eyes met.

"Fuck, Amber," Augustine gasped, gold eyes wide and wolf ears pricked forward. She had him entirely buried in her mouth, her throat. A challenging glint in her eyes as she stared up at him. Amber's expression and the very sight of her looking so confident made his heart pound. He had to focus to not let his tongue loll out of his maw in an obscene pant. "That's… You're impressive."

"Or maybe you're not as intimidating as you think," she returned after she eased off him, wearing a pointed expression. Amber forced herself to not stare at his now slickened, shiny red member still bobbling for her attention.

"Point made," he chuckled, now realizing how tight his hands balled into fists. It had been that or grabbing Amber by the head, threading clawed fingers through her hair as his hips worked against that talented mouth. Even just thinking it made his arousal jolt. He needed to find something else to grip onto lest he forget himself. "Can we move over to the bed?"

She shot a dubious look to the king-sized bed. He was about to assure her that it didn’t mean he had expectations, he just needed something to grab onto that wasn’t her head or hair or… well, her. Amber cut him off before he could even soothe her worries. "Alright, but there's no guarantee we'll fuck, got it? I'm getting comfortable with you. That's it."

Hypocrisy tilted through her mind, knowing full well her words clashed against the fact she had his dick in her mouth moments earlier. Whatever. Her boundaries could ebb and flow.

When Amber got to her feet, Augustine backed away to the bed, flopping back on his elbows once the back of his legs hit the mattress. As the bed creaked under his sudden weight, he offered up a grin to Amber. "I'm just happy with whatever you want to do."

Approaching him, Amber rolled her eyes at his words. A small part of her echoed how strange it was that she felt so comfortable around him, a veritable stranger. A different part of her - more curious to see how this all would end - focused more on exploring him again.

Ignoring Augustine’s splayed legs, Amber leaned over him with one hand going to the ruff of fur around his neck. As her hand sunk into the dense fur, she gave him an experimental scratch.

Unprepared for the new turn of events, a strangled sound left Augustine as Amber’s other hand drew to his ear. His eyes fluttered shut, leaning his ear into her touch. Heat churned inside him as his head nuzzled into her touch, an indecent whine leaving his throat.

The reaction tickled Amber’s senses. In that moment, her suspicions eased, seeing him openly tilting toward her attentions with a genuine need. It was still ridiculous, all the same. But it was genuine ridiculousness, she realized.

It was her amused snort that made Augustine’s eyes crack back open. His clawed fingers dug into the blanket beneath him as realization struck. In his efforts to get more touch on his ear, he had unwittingly bared his throat to her. A mark of extreme vulnerability among lycans. Though Augustine doubted that’s what held her attention.

No, Amber had her head tilted to the side and a considering smile on her lips. The warmth in her eyes nearly struck the air from Augustine’s lungs, having not been subjected to such a tender look from her before. He held his breath, too afraid to break whatever spell she had woven.

Something in Augustine’s expression shocked Amber out of her momentary affection. Painfully aware of the gentleness in the air, she tore her gaze from his face. She needed a distraction. As her attention fell, it caught onto his red arousal. That would be distraction enough.

Amber’s hands trailed down Augustine’s front, carding through the shorter fur that spread down his torso as she lowered herself to the floor between his legs. He was still under her touch, his eyes watching her hands travel further southward.

Then her caresses bypassed the one place he was most eager to feel her touch. Augustine only barely swallowed down a frustrated whine as her fingers worked through the thicker fur of his legs, down to his ankles before beginning to traverse back upward. The return trek, however, was remarkably slow. Slower than before.

“Amber, please, you’re torturing me,” Augustine groaned, head lolling backward. Heat throbbed between his legs, impatient and edging toward painful. All the while, her fingers continued to toy up his legs, fingers digging through the fur to scratch lightly against his skin.

“Am I?” Her tone was too amused to be completely innocent or unaware of what she was doing. Leaning closer to her dick, she puffed warm breaths over his shaft, but didn’t touch him yet.

Augustine gave an affirmative grunt, eyes glued to her.

Her lips quirked into a wry smile, tilting her eyes to Augustine, though she couldn’t see his face at the moment. “I did say this was about me getting comfortable, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” She’d probably shirk away with his next words, but he couldn’t help it. He watched her carefully, a lazy grin on his lips, as he said,  “I like you feeling comfortable enough to torment me.”

Amber only gave a momentary pause. Barely a hiccup in her actions as she gathered up her nonchalance. Nosing along his furry thigh, she sighed, “Ah, so you’re a masochist.”

“Only if you want to be a sadis–” A sharp exhale interrupted Augustine’s retort. He groaned, curving forward as Amber’s mouth once more enveloped his cock.

Well, that was one way to silence him, Amber supposed as she slowly inched down his shaft. He tasted heady and salty on her tongue, the throb of his pulse taunted her. Her tongue writhed curved around the underside of his member, flexing against him. With every movement of her lips, every flex of her tongue, Augustine twitched or groaned. Such small movements evoking such grand displays of pleasure.

After one pass downward and back up, she lifted her mouth from him. Though she lingered close enough so her lips would tease his tip as she spoke. “I don’t want a partner that does everything I want. I’ve been in that position and it’s not fun.”

The look in Amber’s eyes was earnest and sincere and serious. Augustine found curiosity rousing in his thoughts, along with a dose of faint anger. Had she meant the unspoken meaning? That someone had forced her to be someone she wasn’t? Or was it just a life experience?

Augustine shelved the thought for the moment. Tonight was about her comfort, her exploration. Not him getting personal answers. If he had his way, there’d be time for that later. He reached for her hair, threading his clawed fingers through her hair gently. Imperceptibly, she leaned into the touch, only the slight pressure of her against his fingers any indication of her movement.

“I’m fine with being a masochist to your sadist, but–” A wolfishness stole across Augustine’s maw as his fingers tightened in her hair and he leaned over her. He gave a tug, experimental and light, enough to get his point across and was rewarded with a surprised, sinful little squeak from Amber. “Turnabout is fair play, Amber. Wouldn’t you agree?”

For a beat, she stared up at Augustine. His mouth full of sharp teeth and eyes that nearly glowed in the dark and razor claws, of which one set was currently lightly grazing her scalp. His slouch over her just made the size difference between them all the more prominent. Shameful excitement thrummed through Amber, burning hotter as his grin broadened toothily.

It was that grin that kicked Amber’s thoughts back into action.

“I suppose that’s true,” she replied airily, her lips still hovering close to his dick. Moving slowly, her hand drew to his knot, fingers coiling around the bulbous bit of anatomy. Augustine’s gaze slid from Amber’s face to her hand, air caught in his lungs. A thrill pulsed through him, throbbing against her touch. He completely forgot about his hold on her hair, fingers falling lax, as she shook him off.

“But I’m pretty sure I still have the upper hand,” Amber added, the corner of her lips tilting in a grin of her own. A bit of wryness crept into her voice as she asked, “Can I keep going now? Or are you going to interrupt me again?”

This was not the Amber he had met in Artist Alley. Her half-lidded gaze and that smile that made it clear she knew she was in control made that clear. Though he thoroughly enjoyed the shy Amber, he was curious to see where this one led. Augustine had a feeling this wasn’t a part of her she showed to just anyone. Or, hell, maybe it was something long-buried.

Either way, excitement crept up his spine, his tail wagging against the bed, as he nodded. “By all means, please continue.”

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[weministertomonsters]

Latest free post on Patreon!

Vile and Vulgar

A Vampire Lord is captured by a mad scientist and tortured in his dungeon for years before he eventually escapes. Now he wants his revenge. Too bad the old man isn't around anymore and he's got to pick the next best target, the mad scientist's granddaughter. But before he can set his plan into motion, she shows up on his doorstep. However, he's long past such things as forgiveness...

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[monstersandmaw]

March’s exclusive Patreon story is a super cute, gentle, and massive minotaur lad, and we’re back in a high fantasy setting, with an elderly dragonborn lawyer for a friend too!

I hope you’ll consider joining our growing community over there, and remember to join as a free member if you want to keep reading my new stories which would have gone up on Tumblr, since all this AI nonsense.

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[ilustrariane]

Page 32 of September Sun is up for all patrons already! Dont miss the freakyy plot twist! 👀👀🔥

[jplupineislost]

____________✧𝕴𝖓𝖋𝖔 𝕮𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗✧____________

18+ ONLY; Minors/Ageless blogs will be blocked on sight. ✌ [Main is chibilostsoul so likes/follows/etc. come from there.]

|| 𝕵. 𝕻. 𝕷𝖚𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖊 || 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖞/𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖒 || 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝟏𝟗𝟎𝟎𝖘 ||

Artist + Writer + Vtuber

Mainly makes Exophilia [monster] stuff

Uploads are currently inconsistent

My blog for writing: @jplupine | Monster Apartments Project | Slashers: @bigkurosmash | Crochet: @mysticalwolfcreations

🐺 Comm Site + Links 🐺 YT 🐺 Kofi☕ 🐺 Patreon 🐺 Shop 🐺

🐺 Comms:OPEN 🐺 Tag Key 🐺 About Me 🐺 Emoji Monsters 🐺

*More info can be found here!

I DON’T allow reuploads or modifications of my work. Reblogs are appreciated. 🫀

[moonloredraws]

Hey hey hey!! New month, with new goodies! This month is kinda exciting! I'm going to start a NEW comic, Lunar Sacrifice, on the $5 tier, We have hand embellished holiday cards on the $15 tier, which you can choose one from, and people on the $50 tier get all 3 card designs PLUS one of the original paintings!

Link to my Patreon is in the content source!

[mxnsterbabe]

This week we have early access to Archer the werewolf!

The excluslive story for this week is Mandisa the drider!

Check out my Patreon to see either of these, and keep reading for a sneak preview of Mandisa~

After dinner, you moved to the living room, settling on the couch. Mandisa sat beside you, her legs folding neatly beneath her. You picked up the remote, flipping through the channels until you found a movie that you both liked. As the opening credits rolled, you snuggled up against her, feeling the warmth of her body next to yours.

Mandisa’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, her fingers gently stroking your hair. You loved the way she touched you, so tender and affectionate.

As the movie played, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her. She was so beautiful, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes focused on the screen. You reached up, tracing a finger along her jawline.

"Hey," you whispered, drawing her attention.

She turned to look at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Yes?"

"I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you," you said, your voice quiet.

Mandisa’s green eyes brightened, and she leaned in to kiss you. Her lips were cool and soft, sending shivers down your spine. The kiss deepened, and you lost yourself in the sensation, pressing into her side.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Mandisa’s cheeks were flushed, and she looked down at you, eyes half-closed. "You know, when we first got together, I never thought I’d have all of this. A loving fiance, gorgeous house, the works. Even if dating a human has its quirks.”

You grinned, feeling a burst of happiness. "Well, someone has to keep things interesting around here."

[eruden-writes]

The Unexpected Human Problem - Part 30

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31

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I'm weak and shared this at the same time as my Patreon.

Comments, tags, and reblogs are real motivators for me! ♥ ♥ ♥

Becoming a patron of mine would also mean a lot, too.

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Summary: The night her abductors die, Rayelle finds herself running for her life. She doesn’t know where she is, what is following her, where to go. All she knows is she’s not on Earth any longer and the thing chasing her has the capacity to kill.

Tai'qdei never anticipated finding a human when he took the job of tracking and subduing a small contingent of smugglers. It was only when the human attacked and fled fled, Tai'qdei - hopped up on the euphoria of a successful hunt - gave chase, instinct burning at his center.

Will sense return to Tai'qdei before he catches Rayelle? Or will Rayelle be subjected to the yautja’s natural inclinations?

And what happens afterwards?

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The rest of Rayelle’s life came sooner than expected. She should have known Evan wasn’t going to take his losses well. To his credit, he bided his time with a fake smile on his lips and even seemed to move on with a girlfriend. She hoped everything boded well.

She should have known better. That was all Rayelle thought as she was pulling into the parking lot of a highway truck stop, when she saw the truck speeding toward her in the rain.

This truck stop was a “drop off-pick up” location she and Evan had designated. Neutral ground. It was midway between their respective homes and very much closed on this day of all days.

“-ey were supposed to wait.” Blearily, she heard Evan snarling to himself as he yanked one of the back doors open. A little farther off, she heard the squeal of tires as the truck drove off. There was more scuffling closer by and she realized Elliot and Skylar were getting ushered out. “Get in my car!”

“What about mom?” Skylar asked, their tone wobbling. “We gotta take her to the hospital!”

There was a pause. A hissed expletive. Then she heard gravel crunching away before her door suddenly yanked open. She felt herself lifted, smelled the sickeningly familiar aroma of Evan’s cologne.

With her head still spinning, she struggled in his hold, but he quickly threw her in the back. Both kids crowded around her, asking her questions. Her head swam, unable to focus on any of their words. There was a sense of movement, a faint register of turn signals clicking and the roar of the car speeding up.

Rayelle’s brain didn’t make sense of anything until Skylar nervously said, “Dad, t-this isn’t the way to the hospital.”

“You wanna tell ‘em about the men y’sent after me?” Rayelle pushed herself upright, words slightly slurred. The world spun at the edges of her vision.

Ice emanated from Evan’s answer, “I have no clue what you mean.”

“You remember. It was the last dinner I agreed to with you, alone.” Rayelle waved her hand, shooting him a look in the rear-view mirror. Part of her knew she was traveling down the worst avenue of discussion in this circumstance, but something in her wanted to needle at him. Maybe it was head trauma, making Rayelle reckless. Or maybe, given how he’d paid someone to run them off the road, she was ready to let her kids see his colors fully. “You waved as they shoved me into a van.”

“I have no fucking clue what you’re saying, Rayelle,” Evan savagely spat, turning briefly from the road to glare at her before whipping back around.

Her expression darkened just as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead. Vibrations rattled the car and she realized just how jumpy, how shaky Evan appeared. Looking in the rearview mirror, she spotted deep dark bags under his bloodshot eyes.

Flanking Rayelle, her children remained quiet and tense. Until Elliot shakily asked, “Where are you taking us?”

Evan didn’t even look back to his children, didn’t soothe them. He just growled, “Somewhere. Just shut up, sweetie.”

Beside Rayelle, Skylar whimpered and Elliot shakily reached for her hand. Her expression pinched, attention flickering from one child to the other. She looped an arm around Skylar’s shoulder, pulling them close. They both were deathly pale, Skylar trembling and Elliot on the brink of tears. Neither was understanding what was happening. Thankfully, neither seemed hurt from the literal car crash that Evan had staged.

Taking a deep breath, Rayelle tried to remain calm. Her kids needed her to be sturdy and strong and unwavering. A brief thought of tendrils and textured red skin and mandibles flared through her mind. Something solidified inside her as her eyes drew to the front, to the rain pelting the windshield.

Attacking him as he drove would do no good. They’d all end up in an accident, possibly dying. She just had to find an opening and take advantage.

It wasn’t long until Evan was driving them off the highway, through rural town streets. Rayelle’s stomach flipped when she noticed he’d driven into a nature park. On a stormy day, it was guaranteed to be empty.

Rayelle and the kids braced themselves as the car raced through the parking lot, hopping a curb to drive on a bike trail. The sounds of rock and mud and the chugging on the engine roared around them as the car shook from being forced off-road. Rain continued to patter over the car, loud and incessant. The tattoo of the rain was joined by the shrieking scraping of branches along all sides of the vehicle.

By the time the car stopped, Rayelle wasn’t sure if it was by Evan’s design or whether it had enough. Either way, Evan grabbed something from the other seat and slammed his car door open

“Out!” He barked on the other side of the back seat’s door, waving a gun to emphasize his authority. Slowly, all three clambered out. Elliot, then Rayelle, and finally Skylar. Where the car had finally stopped was in a clearing, a yard or two away from the edge of a cliffside drop-off.

With the firearm acting as a guiding force, Evan waved them to stand between himself and the cliff’s edge. While he motioned, he continued talking. His tone of pained sensibility, verging on breakdown. “It didn’t have to be like this, Ray. We didn’t have to divorce or go through court or any of that! We could’ve been together and happy.”

She positioned herself between her children and her ex-husband, too apprehensive to do anything with that gun pointed at them. Her expression and tone hardened, eyes narrowing as she shot back, “Was I supposed to be happy when you hired those men to kidnap me?”

Evan’s features darkened, pinched as he scowled. “What does that fucking matter? They didn’t do their job.”

“Dad?” Skylar’s uncertain voice barely sounded over another roll of thunder overhead. Rayelle almost flinched, listening to her child’s image of their father start to fracture.

Evan ignored them, opting to wave his ex-wife closer with his gun. “Come here, Rayelle.”

With no other course of action, she obeyed. As she took a few steps forward, Elliot whipped his stricken attention to her, immediately grabbing for her arm. “Mom!”

“It’ll be alright. Just stay close to your sibling.” She shot him a smile, though she herself knew she couldn’t make that promise. Gingerly, she pried her son’s fingers from her arm before continuing toward Evan. He listened to her direction, sidling closer to Skylar, though his expression remained warily on both parents.

“On your knees,” Evan sneered, once more motioning with the gun. She couldn’t help but feel he radiated some malicious smugness, under his bitter exterior. He was going to get ‘the bitch’ on her knees, one last time. Angry swirls clawed at her stomach at that thought.

Just as slowly as she approached, Rayelle began lowering to her knees with her hands still raised. Evan scoffed, oozing disdain as she got halfway. That small sound razed over her, igniting the stoking fury.

With her left hand, she grabbed at his gun-wielding hand, twisting his wrist - away from her kids - just as her right fist slammed into his groin. The impact sent a rush of satisfaction through Rayelle. Watching Evan crumple with a pained groan, the gun clattering away over pebbles, just doubled the satisfaction.

Before Rayelle could dive for the gun, Elliot rushed in. Quick as he was, he snatched up the weapon. Before she could praise him for helping, he threw the gun over the edge of the clifface.

“No!” Thunder rumbled overhead as Rayelle screamed, taking a step toward him while watching the gun careen in the air. Something in her stomach sunk as she whipped around to face Evan again, putting herself between her child and her ex once more. Evan was already on his feet, reaching for something inside his jacket pocket, which only made her stomach lurch. Oh no.

Elliot sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Can’t we just talk?”

“We’re already past that point. Your mom has already poisoned you enough with this gender confusion bullshit, Emma.” Evan growled as he whipped out a second gun. Rayelle flinched, hearing him say what had - thus far - remained in a court setting. Behind her, she could feel Elliot struck by the emotional hit. He’d been so careful, waffling for a long time between presentations. With the divorce settling down, with the talks he’d had with Evan, Rayelle knew he’d gotten his hopes up.

There was no time to think about that as Evan cocked the gun, the click clear despite the pattering rain. “Maybe I can save Austin, but you two are too far gone.”

“Dad!” Together, Elliot and Skylar screamed, the former a watery cry and the latter a shriek of horror.

“Get down!” Rayelle waved behind her, motioning for her eldest to drop.

The gun went off a deafening boom. The world slowed as Rayelle’s mind raced for options. Duck, dodge, drop… She didn’t have the time. Bracing herself, she waited for the pain of the bullet to rend through her, hoping it didn’t hit anything vital nor cleave through her to Elliot when…

The bullet stopped. Midair. It didn’t simply freeze. It hit something, crumpling in on itself as the sound of impact echoed through the air.

Everyone froze and Rayelle’s brain fritzed for a second, before she realized something else. Where the bullet stopped, where it hit something, rain was not falling. The air in front of Rayelle flickered like a glitched artifact as her eyes slid upward.

An organic clicking mixed with a warble, before the cloaking flickered out. A tall and broad back, armored in black, stood before her, between herself and Evan. Her breath caught as her brain tried to shake off the delusion. There was no way. There was absolutely no way.

Even as she denied it, her eyes caught sight of red-orange textured skin between the plates of armor and long red-black tendrils, pulled back into a sort of ponytail.

Rayelle’s heart thundered in her chest, a sound threatening to escape the back of her throat.

“You!” That caught Rayelle’s attention and her eyes swung toward Evan, her eyebrows furrowing. How the hell did he know about Tai’dqei?

“I knew you were real!” Evan’s scream sounded hinged and deranged as he took a step toward the alien. The gun in his hand shook, but Rayelle wasn’t sure if it was from fear or rage. “Everyone said I was just stressed, but you’ve been tailing me, haven’t you?”

Tai’dqei angled his head at the human and, despite months apart, Rayelle thought she could feel smugness radiating off him.

“And you,” Evan hissed, turning his attention to Rayelle. A growl rose up slow and quiet from Tai’dqei, his muscles tensing even though Evan didn’t seem to notice the warning. “You have something to do with him, don’t you? You weren’t happy ruining my life and my children. Oh no, you had to keep tormenting me!”

Whatever he was about to do was interrupted as Tai’dqei charged at him. Evan howled as a crushing grip snatched up his arm, the firearm was yanked from his hand. Not one to be taken so easily, Evan jerked and struggled. Mud beneath the two struggling opponents gave way, and their footing slid.

Where Tai’dqei remained upright, Evan slipped, landing in the mud. But that was enough to make inspiration strike, as he hefted a glob of mud and hurled it at Taid’qei’s face. It landed with a smack, causing the alien to pause.

A very loud snarl rumbled out of Tai’dqei as he wrenched his mask off. As he latched the mask to his hip belt, the angry guttural clicks echoed through the rain and trees.

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” breathed Evan, scrambling backward on the ground when he caught sight of the alien features. A low growl continued to emanate from Tai’dqei as he slowly followed Evan, like a jaguar stalking their next lunch. Tai’dqei’s mandibles flexed and, from the way he walked, Rayelle got the feeling he was playing with her ex. Evan was no actual threat to him and he was broadcasting that fact.

Quick like a viper, Tai’dqei lunged and snatched Evan’s ankle. A surprised yelp burst from Evan. Tai’dqei hauled the man up upside down, holding him at arm’s length. With a few heavy squelching footfalls in the mud, he headed toward the cliff’s edge. Tai’dqei easily dangled Evan over the edge. A silent threat made which only made Evan yell louder - beg louder - voice tinged with further terror as he remained still.

“Wait, don’t!” Now it was Skylar’s turn to rush in. They grabbed at Tai’dqei’s free arm, but flinched away when the yautja turned his gaze on them. Skylar’s lips trembled, blinking back tears as they weakly said, “He’s… he’s still my dad. Please.”

Tai’dqei glanced up to Rayelle, tone soft though he still held Evan over the precipce. “What are they saying?”

Oh right, Rayelle straightened as she remembered the translator nanobug. Of course, Tai’dqei couldn’t understand her kids.

“They don’t want to see their dad dropped to his death.” With a wave of her hand as she edged closer to the car. She sighed as if resigning herself to taking the higher road. Ignoring the confused and curious looks her kids shot her, she waved Tai’dqei over. “Bring him over here.”

Tai’dqei’s eyes narrowed, his mandibles twitching with amusement. There was something in her stance that made him believe she had something else up her sleeve. Something she deemed more appropriate for her kids to see than their father splattered on the rocks below. So, he obliged.

As soon as he was set down, Evan scrambled to his feet, moving toward Rayelle as if to hug her. “Thank you, Ra-”

Whatever gratitude he was about to show her was cut off as she grabbed his collar, her other hand reaching for his head. Using her pent-up rage, she forced Evan’s face toward the car. Surprised, the man barely even had a chance to resist as his face kissed the hood.

“Never. Threaten. My children. Again!” Punctuating every syllable, Rayelle slammed Evan’s face into the car. The sound of flesh hitting metal echoed through the air, between the raindrops. Once finished, she released him and, with a groan, he slumped against the car. Blood smeared along the metal, his face, her shirt.

With a sigh and her shoulders still tense, she turned to her children and Tai’dqei. All three watched her quietly. She waited for her kids to say something, to voice their dissent.

“Is dad going to be okay?” Skylar piped up, their eyes shifting from Rayelle to Evan. They didn’t exactly move to help their fallen parent, but there was concern woven into their tone.

From the ground, the aforementioned man groaned.

“He’s alive, at least,” Rayelle scoffed, fighting the urge to kick Evan while he was down. She knew she’d have to have a long and difficult talk with Skylar and Elliot - likely two different sorts of conversations - about what just happened, but those talks could be had later. There were more pressing matters on her mind. Turning to Tai’dqei, she demanded, “Why are you here?”

“I… It’s a long story.” Tai’dqei’s fingers flexed as he considered what to tell her. There really wasn’t time. They had a lot to do, depending on the actions they chose from here on out. “We should get go-”

“No, TAC told us you couldn’t come here. What’s going on?” Rayelle took a step closer to him, her finger jabbing him in the chest plate. It was easier for her to hang on to suspicion and anger, than let herself believe their story could have a happier ending. Her mind flew wildly with questions and accusations, her eyes widening as one potentiality settled. “You didn’t steal the time machine thing did you?”

“I did not,” was all Tai’dqei managed to say, before Elliot grabbed his mom’s arm.

Her attention wheeled to her son, finding his expression curious but conflicted. “Mom? How can you understand them?”

She opened her mouth, but closed it when she realized she didn’t have a good answer. Despite how the phrase echoed in her head, considering Tai’dqei had just used it on her, she muttered, “It’s… it’s a long story, sweetie.”

“No, seriously. What the fuck is going on?” Elliot’s grasp released Rayelle as he ran his hands through his own short hair. It was easier for him to focus on the absurd, rather the family trauma that had just passed. “A time machine? And them, are they an alien?”

As Elliot paced away, Skylar intercepted him. They pressed a hand to his arm, as if the touch could calm their brother down. Looking up to Rayelle, their own expression a mirror of conflict and pain and uncertainty as their brothers, Skylar asked, “Can we get out of the rain at least?”

Taking a deep breath, Rayelle turned her attention back to the patiently waiting Tai’dqei. “We need to get out of the rain. Somewhere dry.”

Tai’dqei nodded, inputting a command onto his gauntlet. His ship uncloaked itself, right at the edge of the cliffside, hovering in open air. With a motion of his arm, he wordlessly told Rayelle and her children to follow as the boarding gangway lowered.

“How long has this been here?!” Elliot yelled, though he trudged grudgingly toward the boarding ramp.

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Tag list: @ajarofpickledtears, @boogeysmoth, @omg-the-nutella-queen

[genuflectx]

Last May request for patrons is up! <3 Here’s a short teaser.

“The two of you stood in the middle of the living room. He silently took the coffee and cake pop but didn't meet your eyes, shrugging. “Sorry I've just gotten so...”

“Busy,” you sighed, tilting your head.

Charles just looked at you.

You took a seat, hoping he'd feel less intimidated or cornered if you were sitting. “Look, I know something has been going on. You do this every month, it's like you've been,” you scrunched your face, struggling for the word. “Hiding? Whatever it is you can tell me.”

He opened his mouth then closed it. Then he sat down heavily in a loveseat across from you, putting his coffee and treat on the table, untouched.

“I won't judge you,” you offered a smile that you hoped was encouraging. “I promise I won't. I just want the truth. It's the foundation for every good relationship, and Charles I,” you looked down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “I really like you, so.”

There was uneasy quiet for a beat. You heard him shift in his chair uncomfortably. “You may not like what you hear. You like me now, as some... charming professor who brings you flowers and loves his work. But you wouldn't like-” he trailed off.

Your eyes implored him. “I've never been judgmental, really, I just don't want you to hide from me. Whatever it is I'll still like you.”

He steeled himself and shut his eyes. When they opened again he said: “I'm a werewolf.”

You stared at him dumbly. “...A werewolf. Like, changes-with-the-full-moon-werewolf?”

“Not so simple as that,” he smiled wryly.

“I change at will, but during different phases of the moon urges are stronger,” he explained. “And I've been avoiding you because I don't want to hurt you. Or scare you away.”

You smirked, taking that in. “Urges?”“

[the-blind-geisha]

An image of Demi as a stripper is up early on Patreon! ♥