#monsterfucker stickers
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monstrousdesirestudy · 2 months ago
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I’m so pleased you’re happy with them and their quality!!! So excited for everyone to get theirs and decorate their knickknacks with monsterfucking fun
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Yee! I got my @monstrousdesirestudy stickers! They are actually even better than was hoped for! The plastic is higher quality than I'm used to for even standard "Good" stickers! These are clearly gonna give good durability!
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huginsmemory · 5 months ago
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After learning about book of bill's 'one thing led to another night comment' I suddenly remembered the Kronk Licensed Monsterfucker meme (below cut) and. Well.
Also pspsppsp Bill and Billford girlies. Come here. Come closer.... Yeah that's right... this also applies to you... Also and adjoining post
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wall-eye · 5 months ago
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I've got both physical and digital stickers (or emojis, for use in discord servers) of my CHOMP art avaliable to get on my ko-fi, if you're interested in showing off your willingness to bite :)
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ghost-cwunch · 8 months ago
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More sapphic monster romance brainrot (i made stickers of them lmfao)
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I love them sm sjshaghd give me name suggestions pls! idk what to name them still ;-;
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neonstardustart · 4 months ago
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Updated my Etsy with new photos!
If you like bookish, adult, and monster-themed stickers and prints, please check it out here!
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birdofparadissee · 1 year ago
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"And They Were Monsters" - an art book for monster lovers, via @Kickstarter https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/novaandmali/and-they-were-monsters-an-art-book-for-monster-lovers?ref=android_project_share
Calling all my fellow monster fuckers out there to help back this AMAZING Kickstarter! Obviously, being an art book all about monsterous lovers, it is very much NSFW. But everything looks absolutely divide from the peeks they've given us!! Tons of extra goodie options, and tons of beautiful artwork!! All images / screenshots taken directly from the campaign page, none of the art is mine! Link posted at begining of text, will also pm it to anyone in case it doesn't work right from the post.
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artnarchistwitchcraft · 2 years ago
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made stickers from my tarot deck cards (in case you're interested they're available on my etsy).
also the final tarot deck (not just stickers) is coming out soon <3.
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surfs-up-brian · 7 months ago
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Help.
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jplupineislost · 8 months ago
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Redbubble is currently having a sale on stickers with free shipping and 25% off on magnets!
Prints, buttons, and cards are also available!
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monstrousdesirestudy · 3 months ago
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Monsterfucker Sticker Sheets: Pre-Order Now!
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Scales 🐉
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Tentacles 🦑
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Werewolf 🐺
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🌟 Free Bonus 3x3 Sheet with Pre-Order 🌟
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Do you want to help advance science AND have dope monsterfucking stickers?
Fellow monsterfucker academic Phoebe Santillan @teratophiliologist and I are planning to sell fun monsterfucking stickers to help raise funds to help pay for research expenses so that we can duplicate our survey findings officially! Choose from three themed sheets (scales 🧜🏻‍♀️, werewolf 🐺, and tentacles 🦑 ) or buy all three at a discount price!
Pre-order between 10/23 - 11/4 and receive a free bonus 3x3 sticker sheet :0
Pre-order now!
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edgygayguy · 2 years ago
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nidus prime prepared me for everything ill take the helminth infection even if it kills me 🧎
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planetdream · 10 months ago
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AN EVENING IN THE WOODS !
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CHARACTERS ! werewolf!bang chan, human!reader
GENRE ! horror/thriller but barely, smut [minors dni]
WORDS ! 3.3k
SYNOPSIS ! on a drunken game night, you're dared to take a little stroll through the woods after rumors of a werewolf lurking through the town.
THIS FIC CONTAINS ! more thriller than horror i think. mentions of alcohol. being chased/stalked; mentions of being 'kept'. reader desc. wearing long skirt + called 'good girl'. smut [dubcon(?)—reader is basically being used. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possessiveness. [rough] sex in the woods. monsterfucking ig. large cock channie <3. pussy eating. facefucking. cumplay + creampie. belly bulge oops. dumbification(?) growling..] used the word 'beast' a lot oops. it gets weird idk
💌 ngl...i think i forgot how to write smut u guys... this is partially inspired by a brief part in house of leaves by mark z. danielewski, but like, not really at all iykyk. anyway, as u kno, i always appreciate feedback <3
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There’s a big difference between vampire hunters and werewolf hunters. The creatures are different from each other in both ferocity and nature; thus, the study and hunt of them will differ based on several factors. Hunters of said creatures are expected to know what to do in situations in which they are faced with such foul beasts. You, quite frankly, are neither a vampire nor a werewolf hunter. Inexperienced to the point where you couldn’t begin to imagine what you would do if faced with anything that is such a monstrous terror, let alone a werewolf. Yet, here you are, prancing around the cold forest like a delicious piece of meat, praying that you don’t cross paths with anything—man or beast.
About a month ago, men and women alike began disappearing from town in the late hours of the night, not to be seen or heard from again. In the following weeks, numbers of missing people have only risen, leading many to believe that there might be a serial killer on the loose. That, however, was only until word got around that a town drunkard had seen what he could only describe as a ‘terrifyingly large rabid dog’. ‘It had to be about six feet tall just standing there’, he said, swearing solemnly, even vowing to quit drinking in an effort to portray his seriousness. The man wept, “It was one of them werewolves. I swear by it.” 
Only from there did word travel through the town. Though, no one believed the drunk old man, laughing at his testimony—‘A werewolf? In this town? That’s impossible’—some treating it as some fable, or a game, even. Which is what leads to you, alone, in the woods tonight. A fun game of truth or dare with your friends—being a chronic truth picker, tonight (with a little liquid courage) you decide that you want nothing but to humor your associates, you chose dare—turns into you blindly making your way into the dark forest with nothing but a lamp, pocket knife, and a few neon stickers to help you make your way back; and that’s only if you’re not murdered. 
By the looks of it, the surrounding forest is empty. The only sounds come from the rustling of tree leaves mingling together due to the wind, the sounds of birds squawking in the far distance, and the snapping and crunching of twigs and leaves beneath your shoes. You trek your way through the trees and dirt extremely unnerved. Nothing has happened at all, and although you’re thankfully still alive and breathing, making your way through the clutter of trees and dead wood, you cannot help but be a bit frightened about the dreariness and uncertainty of the situation. 
It’s a cold night, predicted to snow a bit; temperature dropping lower and lower with each hour that falls. The sun had set a while ago and the purple-orange hue leftover has now faded from blue into black. And while the stars are beginning to show themselves—pristine and beautiful—the dark sky only adds to the dreariness of your walk through the forest. The sudden additional silence is eerie, nature has stilled completely. Although the echo of stillness is inexplicable, unusual; it comforts you—knowing that you would hear your assailant coming, should you come close to being attacked. 
When looking at your watch, you find that you’ve only been in the forest for fifteen of the required thirty minutes—it’s very possible that you can go the distance, turning on your heels and deciding to make your fifteen minute walk back to the edge of the dark forest; and most importantly, to safety. After all, your friends must be worried about you by now; maybe even surprised that you’ve really stuck to the dare. In a matter of minutes, this will be all over and you will be resting at home.
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You had to have been walking in one straight direction, right? Maybe because it’s dark, and you, admittedly, have drunk quite a bit, but the placemarkers you remember sticking to the trees along your path are nowhere to be found. The light of your lamp shines against tree after tree, but they remain in their natural state, unchanged. Your eyes widen, heartbeat increasing as you look at the leftover placemarkers you hold in your hand, only six remaining of your original twenty—so you know you’ve used them. 
You stop in your tracks, not willing to venture any further than you already have. Mind racing, scanning and assessing all the possible things you can do, slowly slipping into a panic. You could scream as loud as you can, vocally expressing your need for rescue; but how likely is it that you’ll be heard, especially given how deep into this unchanging landscape you are. Perhaps you can continue walking ahead, only praying that you make your way out unharmed—after all, safety should have been just a fifteen minute walk ahead.
As you lift your foot a few centimeters off of the ground to make your first step, through the darkness of the forest and out of your peripherals, you swear you see a large shadow for just a split second—lurched over and next to a thick tree to your right. A chill runs down your spine and you shudder as you realize the presence of this creature; intimidating and dominant. Taking no chances, feet hitting the ground hard as you sprint through the woods, doing your best to escape this nightmare; real or otherwise. 
The action of running when you feel like you’re being chased, versus running because you are being chased, are quite similar. It’s all instinct, a gut feeling that you jump on, increased heart rate; it’s choosing to flee rather than to fight. The difference, in this moment, you realize, is the definite risk of getting caught. The consequences could prove to be unsatisfactory, at the very least, if you were to be caught by whatever it is that may be following after you. Although, looking behind, there’s nothing in sight—no sign of disaster nor danger. You continue along, albeit a lot slower than before, attempting to catch your breath a bit. Walking off trail just a bit to slow down and assess your next course of action. 
The snapping of a twig within your vicinity has you darting from the temporary hiding place. However, the predator is right on your trail, persisting in its hunt for flesh. You weave your way through the woods, brain firing off about escaping quickly without harm. The chase does not last long, though. One misstep taking you down, tumbling. Briefly, in your panic, you appear to meet eyes with the foul beast. Fear lodged in your throat, dry and brittle—crumbling into tiny little pieces that pester your insides like a million tiny beetles finding a dark, cavernous home. Stomach clenching, seizing as you cower in submission to your terror. Hands buried into the freshly fallen snow—previous footsteps already blanketed over and long gone. Never have you thought you would give up so easily; unsure if you’ve got it within you to fight back in the absolute worst case. 
Body stuck in place, paralyzed with fear once you hear the snow behind you crunch, a sign that the creature is inching closer to you. It’s like your life flashes before your eyes once you feel the snout of the creature pressed against the back of your neck, heat blowing against the back of your neck, followed by a short, deep snarl emitting from within the beast. The large presence behind you is undeniable. The way the creature towers over you is horrifying—a domineering and overbearing sense of power, exuding pride and strength in the form of body heat. It circles you, though you are too terrified to look towards it, despite the daring growl it emits. Heart racing, nearly about to jump out of your chest and run away itself. The creature begins to circle around you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see its feet—huge black paws. Oh great! You’ll be eaten alive. 
But then the feet of the beast turns into man, and slowly you raise your face to get a good look at its true face. He starts off as a blur initially, but the longer you look at him, the more recognizable he becomes. A face you’ve always seen lurking around town. Though despite the area being rather small, you’ve never formally interacted—only stared at each other from a distance then kept it moving. Tonight, however, you finally decided to walk up to him at the local bar whilst with friends, only for him to walk away without a word. ‘Oh, him? Yeah, Chan is just like that.’
“Mmm. What’s that smell?” Chan asks while humming. Arms caging you in against the tree as he presses his nose against your neck, right near a particularly sweet spot. “Smells heavenly. So sweet and delicious.” 
He continues to sniff you out, planting a small kiss to your neck before traveling lower, nose now pressed to the fabric of your clothing. Face pressed in between the valley of your breast, Chan takes a long, deep inhale. His eyes are closed as he pulls back, slightly smirking with clear contentment. Chan takes the material of your shirt pinched between his fingertips before tearing the shirt down the middle, groaning at your now exposed chest. His hands cup your tits, thumbs teasing at your nipples, as he runs his nose down the valley, before swiping back up with his tongue. 
Chan isn’t done, nose still pressed against your skin as he sinks down to his knees. Rough hands cupping your ass, squeezing, as he stops—nose pressed against your mound, breathing you in while trying to pull you closer, finally finding the source of that sweet, heavenly scent. He’s breathing heavily to the point that you can feel his hot breath against your skin through the thin material of your skirt; snarling as he takes in your scent. And he’s mumbling something down there—pussy hungry words about how fucking delectable you smell. Perfect to devour. 
Contrary to the petrifying circumstance, the rush of adrenaline you get in the moment is euphoric and exhilarating. Chan’s touch is hot against you, almost scorching, and leaves you wanting—no, needing more of him. 
He hikes up the long length of your skirt with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder to force your hips towards his face, diving face first into your cunt. Tongue lapping up hungrily at your wetness, moaning and groaning without a care in the world as he gets the first taste of his meal. Plump lips sucking your clit, vibrating when he moans, causing you to shake and squirm, but Chan has a strong grip against you. He’s messy as he eats you—occasionally breaking free, not for air, but to spit against your cunt—as the lower half of his face is covered in your nectar; which he hopes never washes off, absolutely frenzied by your scent, cock hard and leaking cum, jumping at the thought of finally getting to fuck his cock into this sweet little cunt. 
While Chan is usually a patient man, having no problem in waiting—stalking his prey and then teasing them for hours upon hours on end—he finds himself struck with need. A particular need to feast. To fuck and destroy his prey. Days and days of stalking you, taunting you from afar, and you played right into his palm—obviously fated to be found afraid and lost, deep in his territory. It is at this point he thinks to keep you. Perhaps hide you away somewhere cold and dark where only he’d be able to find you. Keeping you bound to him until he gets sick of you—or until you cease to exist. Aching to fuck you over and over and over again until it becomes too difficult for you to even think about moving a muscle, succumbing fully to his torturous pleasure. He stops himself from thinking too far ahead all too soon, clearly entranced by the sweetness of your cunt. 
Chan springs to his feet; cock heavy, hard and curving to the right, tip swelling red with need and dripping with precum. Your eyes are glued to his cock as you watch him massage his right hand over it; even in his big palms his cock is huge. The excitement to take him spreads from the pit of your stomach and up your chest, visualizing into the form of goosebumps all over your arms. He just laughs at the look on your face; how equally intrigued and dismayed you appear. A perfect little lamb stalked and caught by the big bad wolf, unable to flee due to their own fascination despite their fright. 
Chan leans in, his lips against yours briefly. A hand curling into your hair to bring you down to your knees, you follow suit. His hand stays tangled in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp. With his other hand, Chan strokes his cock, running his thumb over the tip; then pulling your head towards his tip. Eagerly, your tongue slips from your mouth, ready to taste everything he’s giving you. You swirl your tongue around him, but Chan has other plans, slowly sliding his cock into your mouth; helping you savor the slightly salty taste of his seed. Fixing your mouth open as wide as it can go, with both hands now tangled into your hair, he thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth, slowly increasing the speed of his thrust. 
“You just take it like a good girl, huh?” You don’t say anything, but that dazed look in your eye and the moan that escapes from deep in your throat tells Chan all he needs to know. 
“Perfect little mouth, but I bet that pussy is even better.” Chan frees his cock from your mouth with a trail of spit. His hand around his cock once again, the slick sound like music to your ears. Though, it’s at this point that the cold air is starting to get to you—the snow is light but still continuous—yet you power through it for just another taste of Chan. 
“Want you so bad,” You bite your lip, looking into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed together. You stand and stretch to turn your back to him, looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your backside towards him like a bitch in heat. Chan smirks at you, a small laugh erupting from him at the sight of your shamelessness.   
In the heat of the moment, Chan licks the palm of his hand before bringing it down to rub at your cunt from behind. He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear a long, deep snarl come from within his chest. The closer he gets to you, the louder the growl echoes, and the more he warms you with his body heat—caging you in against the tree. You grind into his hand, greedily taking anything he gives you. While Chan is steadily becoming just as impatient as you, he always spares time to play with his food; teasing the tip of his cock against your slit. Chan slowly slides into your cunt—a rough hand clenching onto your hip, nails digging into your skin; not nearly enough to keep him from losing his cool as your wetness encases his cock, wet and tight. 
You’re barely taking half of his dick before the stretch of it nearly becomes too much—but he’s one step ahead of you; arm snakes across your belly and down to your cunt, two wet fingers ready to play with your clit. Chan works his fingers against your clit slowly winding you up, all while planting a quick kiss against your shoulder; tongue drooling out to lick a long wet stripe against your neck. It’s only once he receives a moan from you in response that he starts thrusting into you slowly; the thrusts of his hips syncing with the movement of his fingers. 
It isn’t long before you’re taking more and more of his cock, being stuffed and stretched deliciously. Cunt leaking and begging for more of him. Chan lets out these harsh growls and grunts that contrast with the pitch of your moans. His nails dig into your hips, using a minimal amount of strength to pull your hips back against him, making you meet his thrusts. His hips smack against your ass roughly, cock stretching you further, but your cunt swallows every inch perfectly. That’s only until he slides out of you, wordless, yet, still letting out a snarl. He pushes you onto the ground, hands and knees crashing into the new layers of snow. You yelp out in response, but Chan can only laugh at you. 
“Just letting me push you around like this? I think I should keep you,” He follows you, kneeling onto the ground, cock in hand. Laying  a quick smack at your ass, he hums. “How would you feel about being my little plaything, huh?”
His free hand kneads against your ass while he plays with his cock. “Keep you locked up with me ‘n only let you out in these woods at night, hmm? All cute ‘n naked for me to hunt down and fuck again.”
“And you can’t even hide cause I’ll always find you, pretty.” He finally slides into your cunt, still not letting you have all of him, yet. “How does that sound? Do you like it?”
His words are filthy and so are his touches but somehow he’s got you entranced. You let out a loud, cracked sob of a yes in response to his inquiries as if he bullied it out of you. “Good girl.” 
Chan finally allows himself to break—hips snapping harshly into yours. Not caring if you go limp from the way he’s fucking into you, instead his hands are once again clenching your hips, grinding his hips against your ass whenever he thrusts his cock back into you. Your fists clutching onto the snow as you take his cock, unable to do much but drool and mewl for him. 
He presses his chest across your back, caging you onto the cold ground. His tongue once again flat against your skin, licking every inch of what exposed skin he has access to. Still pounding into you as he chases his impending orgasm. Then he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, letting out a whine rather than the usual growl as he fucks his cum into you. It’s hot, sticky, and heavy—and it seems like it’s unending; seemingly producing more and more as he pumps his cock into you. Slowly Chan reaches a hand down to press against your lower abdomen; feeling how your belly swells with all the cum his cock is feeding your cunt. 
You moan at the feeling when Chan pulls out of you with a sigh of exhaust. Cum coating his cock and spilling out of your cunt, staining your thighs. So much of his seed has spilled out and he’s no longer stuffing you with his cock, but yet you feel so full. Chan continues to incite, two thick fingers dip into your cunt to scoop up and play with the excess cum that’s dripping from your hole. 
Chan pulls you back to him by your arms, caging you against his chest. He whispers to you. “What if we played a fun little game, hm?”
He grips your chin and those same two digits that were once inside of you, force into your mouth, offering you another taste of Chan’s cum. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, “Let’s say, I give you a ten second head start to run.”
Chan kisses the back of your neck and a chill runs down your spine. “The ten seconds start now.” 
He frees you from his hold, and springs to his feet leaving you dumbfounded. But by the time you stand and face the direction of Chan, legs weak and cold, he’s no longer there.
It seems his fun little game has officially started. 
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© PLANETDREAM 2024
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redsrooftopprincess · 3 months ago
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Monster
Raphael x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: Smut. 🌶️🌶️🌶️
Happy Monsterfucker Pride Month you fucking deviants. 😈 Here's a present.
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There are a lot of words that come to mind to the average person upon meeting the Hamato clan. "Thing" is pretty popular, and "Freak" is always a classic, but by far Raphael's least favorite is "Monster."
That one tends to stick around, like a "Hello My Name Is" sticker, even after first meeting. The others have an easier time. Leo's the calm, cool one, Mikey doesn't need any help making friends, and Don's got that cute nerd thing going on, but Raphael is big, quiet, and Close Quarter Combat has left him with more scars than clear skin, making an already ugly situation worse.
So when he was sitting at your desk while you were hanging out one night and a notification popped up on your computer, the word caught his attention.
"What is a... 'Monsterfucker?'"
You're not sure sure if anyone has ever died from asphyxiating Dr. Pepper, but you wonder for a moment if you'll be the first.
When you can once again breathe, you look up at him raising a brow at you, "You good?"
"Yup," you croak out with a nod and a thumbs up, clearing your throat, "good."
He gives you a moment to catch your breath, "So... You gonna answer my question, or...?"
Damn. You were hoping he'd suddenly magically forget that he asked.
You've been holding off on coming clean to the guys about this particular personality quirk. You're conflicted because, while it would do wonders for their self esteem, it would more or less be the equivalent of wearing a big sign around your neck that says "HEY RAPH! I'M INTO YOU!" You're still trying to figure out how to approach him about it, and whether or not doing so would ruin an already amazing friendship.
Apparently, you aren't going to get a choice.
You clear your throat, procrastinating, and looking down at the Halloween coloring book you've been working on so you don't have to meet his eyes, "Well..." You clear your throat again, "... a Teratosexual... or... 'Monsterfucker'... is someone with more... exotic... preferences," you cringe internally.
"Exotic as in...?"
"Exotic as in... non-human." You say, making an attempt at sounding casual, suddenly very focused on the cat you're coloring.
That was not the answer he was expecting.
The longer he's quiet, the louder the heartbeat in your ears.
"So you're... not... into humans." He ventures hesitantly.
"Not generally, no..." You say, still not looking at him. Your face is burning.
"Oh..." He says, sitting back and attempting to process, "So what kind of, uh... monsters, I guess... are you, um..." He can't believe he's actually asking this question.
"Depends," you say, thankfully without your voice squeaking.
"On..."
"On... who they are as a person," you say, "just like anyone."
He's quiet again, and you resist the urge to look up at him. He's running through moment after moment with you in his head. The looks, the touches, the gentle words, all those times he kicked himself for reading too much into things...
You tense as you hear him get up and walk over to your side of the bed. the mattress dips as he sits down beside you, and a hand comes up to still the hand coloring. You look up at him, heart thundering in your ears as his thumb brushes over your wrist.
"Now, I could be way off base," he says softly, "and if I am feel free to tell me and I swear I'll never bring it up again... but sometimes I feel like you and me, we..." He takes a breath, "What are we? Friends? I mean, Donnie's your best friend, but you spend all your time with me, and... um..." He trails off.
"Is that what you want...? Friends...?" You ask, hesitantly. You're talking about it. Everything the two of you have both very purposely avoided talking about. The time, the touches. You're talking about it, making whatever the hell this is real. Which means the next words out of his mouth could either build or break you.
"Honestly, at the risk of possibly ruining the best thing that's ever happened to me... No."
"Honestly," you say, breathless, your heart doing backflips, "me either."
"So... If not friends, then... what do you want?" He asks, holding your gaze.
He watches every one of your reactions closely. Any sign of unease or discomfort and he's going to bail. But there aren't any. He's pulled to you, and he closes what little distance there is, a blush blooms across your cheeks and chest.
"Honestly..." You whisper, "you."
He inhales sharply, and looks down at you in awe for a moment, heart pounding behind his armored chest. Exhaling, he cups your face with his other hand, brushing his thumb over your jaw before sliding it back slightly and tilting your head up to him.
"You sure that this... that I'm... what you want...?" He's vibrating. Everything in him is screaming out to take you. Claim you. You're right here. You're giving yourself to him. Anyone else would have just kissed you by now. But he isn't anyone else, and this isn't exactly a normal situation. He has to be sure.
His soft caress is sending sensations rippling down your arm, and you can barely breathe for the ache in your chest. The night they met, Mikey had been injured. Badly. So badly, that they had to drop in at April and Casey's even knowing there was a stranger there.
He stood in the corner and watched you like a hawk. You were new, and new was dangerous. He watched you jump in to help Donnie with whatever he needed, eyes clear and calculating.
In the moment, you were too focused on making sure D had what he needed to save his brother's life, but the memory set your skin on fire.
"Pretty much since the beginning." You whisper, nodding.
He wastes no more time. You've wanted this as long as he has and that thought sends a surge of heat through his bloodstream. He releases your hand and slides his around your waist, pressing his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap, and as flush against him as he can. He's been dreaming of this since the moment you met.
It feels right. Natural. Like you should have been doing this all along, but the moment the hand against your cheek slides into your hair, gripping it gently, and you can feel the rumble in his chest within your own, any whispers of regret are forgotten.
All too soon, he pulls back, both of you needing a moment to catch your breath.
His forehead pressed to yours, you look up at him curiously when he starts laughing softly.
He beams down at you, "You know, on the list of shit I though was gonna happen... ever..." You smile up at him, laughing gently as well. He looks at you with elated, if not confused, eyes, "You got any idea what you're signing up for."
"Pretty sure, yeah," you grin.
They all tried so hard to be human, but it was the hardest for Raphael. Whether it was a result of his mutation, his wildly inconsistent emotional states, or some combination of the two, he was the closest of the four of them to their primal nature.
That night, and the hulking figure in the corner, like some kind of ancient sentinel watching over his charges, was a memory you had come back to so many times you're pretty sure you could recreate it perfectly, not that you would want to.
You pull back slightly to look at him, and bring your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek. You look down at his lips, brushing your thumb over his scar, you've always wondered what it felt like, "... and I think I've been handling it pretty well, so far." Your eyes meets his like the period at the end of a sentence.
Looking at you as if you were the only thing he's ever really wanted, he presses his lips to yours far less tentatively this time, growling into the kiss.
You rest your hand on the back of his head as he kisses down the curve of your throat, nuzzling against it and leaving traces of himself on you. You don't miss the significance of being marked as His and something warm and grateful fills your chest.
He works his way back to your mouth, kissing you deeply before pulling back. He looks down at you, still in almost disbelief.
"I want to see you..." He says, breathless, running a finger just under the hem of your tank top. He looks down before meeting your eyes once again, and you would shudder if you weren't pinned down by his gaze.
You smile, pulling your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground. You had no idea what you thought his reaction would be to finding out everything, but this was way better than you could have hoped. Gooseflesh scatters across your skin, though you're not sure if it's from the change in temperature, or the way his eyes laser focus on on every inch of you. They light your skin on fire, but he doesn't move.
"You're allowed to touch me, Raphael..." you whisper. His eyes shoot up to yours, "I want you to." He inhales sharply, fingers already tingling, he hesitates for just a moment before a calloused hand brushes tentatively over an already hardened nub, making you shiver.
His hand covers your breast and he squeezes gently, the sigh that ghosts from your lips emboldening him.
When he dips his head and captures the other in his mouth, circling with his tongue, the whimper that escapes you as your eyes fall closed is nearly his undoing.
One of your hands rests on the back of his neck, while the other guides his hand lower. As he caresses your waist, his mouth moves to your other breast, giving it the same treatment and leaving your pulse racing.
You can feel the dampness between your legs, and from the way his churr has deepened, it's evident he can smell your arousal. His fingers play at the waistband of your shorts, but no further.
"This doesn't have to go any farther than your comfortable with," you reassure him.
"It's not that, it's just..." His cheeks darken, "I'm not... um..."
"Human?" You venture, with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah..." He says before laughing softly, still not entirely able to process that this is happening, "But, I guess... that's not really a problem for you, is it?"
"Nope," you say, offering him a wicked smile which leaves him swallowing hard.
You smirk and reach up to tug at his paldron. "Feeling a little one-sided here, Red," you say looking over all the clothing and equipment he still has on.
He exhales, a permanent smile of disbelief resting in the corner of his mouth. Him. You want him. You climb off of him, laying back on the bed, and he stands. He sheds his gear and clothing as you look on hungrily, reclined on the bed like a God damn empress. His tail twitches. You aren't just letting him have you, you want him right back, and that is doing amazing things for his ego.
As he's removing the last of his clothing, he glances down at your shorts before meeting your gaze with a brow raised in expectation.
You narrow your eyes and smirk, pushing yourself up and standing beside the bed, before pushing your shorts from your hips and letting them slide to the floor. Now it's your turn to look at him expectantly as he tosses his red mask on top of his gear and takes the few steps towards you.
He looks down at you as if you're the most beautiful creature he's ever seen, and if you ask him, you are. With fabric no longer impeding, he is glutting himself on your scent and his head is swimming as it takes everything in him not to drop right there.
Your eyes roam over his body greedily, drinking him in, something you previously could only ever do in secret, and he shivers. You can't help it, you reach up a hand and hesitate for only a moment before placing it on his chest, following the labyrinthine whorls and channels in his plastron. He's cool and hard under your fingertips, and rough in many places where the keratin has been damaged.
"You know what kills me?" You ask softly, fingers tracing a particularly deep scar, "You have absolutely no idea how beautiful you are," you step forward, pressing your lips to the deep groove. You're rewarded with a sharp inhale and the rumble in his chest against your bare skin.
His hand slides around your waist and he pulls you into him as you kiss upward along the length of the scar. Your softness caresses him, and warmth pours through his shell, filling all the parts of him starved for sunlight. A deep hum reverberates inside of him when you reach the divot in the top of his pectoral scute, and kiss the scarred skin just above.
You look up at him, whispering, "Will you let me show you?"
He looks down at you, and he looks terrified. But he nods. He trusts you.
You take his hand and walk to the end of the bed. You close the door to your room, the light flashing in the full length mirror on the back of the door.
"Sit," you say with a gentle squeeze of his hand, leading him to the side of the bed facing the mirror. He does as he's told, and you climb into his lap, also facing the mirror.
You take his large hands in yours and guide him, showing him how you like to be touched. He watches your reactions to every movement closely, and it isn't long before he's confident enough to explore on his own. His fingers trail lightly down your side, following the line of your hip slowly inward. He stills, waiting to see if you're going to stop him from moving forward.
You don't.
He holds your gaze, watching your features change as his fingers slip into your folds. You gasp as he teases you slowly, and it isn't long before you're near trembling.
You're eyes fall closed, and your mouth falls open as one finger finally pushes into your soaked center. You lean back against him, whimpering as his finger curls, brushing against the soft part inside of you, before pulling out and pushing back in. He repeats the action, slowly, and again, slowly. He feels you clench around him, writhing impatiently, and looks up at the mirror.
Flush and trembling in his arms, one hand nearly covers your abdomen, the contrast of your smooth skin and his pebbled scales looking almost intentional, color and texture complimenting each other perfectly. The other continues disappearing inside of you and drawing from you the most exquisitely frustrated sounds. And it's him. He's doing all of it. His oversized, inhuman hands are creating this moment.
There is no other word for it than "beautiful..."
Your lust blown eyes open to meet his as you whimper and twist in his lap. "f-fuck..." he shudders as he drops, gripping you tighter.
The corner of your mouth turns up slightly as you meet his reflection's eyes. Trembling, he angles himself to rub against your sex, coating himself in your slick, pulling a small sound from your throat. You're already so wet and ready, and when you tilt your hips and capture his spade-tipped head, you are very grateful for that.
The burn as you stretch around him is glorious. He's bigger than you were expecting (and you were expecting), and a deep moan is pulled from you as you sink down on him slowly, your eyes falling closed.
You still once he's buried to the hilt, both of you needing a moment to adjust. When you open your eyes, his are still closed. His arms hold you tightly around the waist, and measured, trembling breaths ghost over your shoulder.
He needs a minute. This is new for him and the worst thing he can imagine right now is for this to be over before it starts. You are so soft and warm and tight, and he can feel your heartbeat pulsing in the walls around him, and if he doesn't get some kind of control, he's going to bust right here.
After a few moments, he opens his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror. His fingers find your clit again, and he strokes it slowly, groaning, his head falling back, when you clench around him.
In an involuntary search for friction, your hips rock against his and he gasps, his other hand tightening around your waist, and he's never been more grateful for years of training in meditation.
He breathes heavily for a few moments, and once he feels like he has his bearings, he holds your gaze and tightens his grip on your hips, pulling out of you slowly before pushing back in. You can feel his churr inside you and you shudder as he sheathes himself again, feeling the vibrations of his desire scatter outward from your center, leaving your fingers and toes tingling.
You move together in a slow rhythm, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He's going to remember every single second of this for the rest of his life. Whatever happens next, this is his. This moment. This feeling. He's wanted a lot of things in his life - peace, acceptance, love -, and for this one shining moment, he has all of them. For this once shining moment, he has you.
This beautiful, brilliant goddess of light and mercy is with him, wants him. You are watching him in the mirror as if he is something sacred. Divine. This broken deformation of something that isn't even a man, held in reverence, and he is filled with something indescribable.
His head falls to your shoulder with a deep moan, as a fire ignites inside of him. Not the one he's used to, there is no burning rage. No barely contained fury. This is not the fire of battle, but the fire of a forge.
Red hot iron burns in his veins as years of doubt and insecurity are boiled away. They didn't matter anymore. Every weird, unacceptable mutated turtle thing he had to deal with. Every scream of horror at his terrible visage. Your light. Your heat, is burning it away. Allowing him to make something new. He leans back, lifting you and bucking up into your harder as that heat fills him, and with every thrust, something in him is reshaping itself.
You could see it in his eyes. That fire of creation. And if you thought he was beautiful before... He holds your gaze with open purpose, unsure but ready for anything, pouring that fire into you. The catalyst of his recreation. And for the first time in his life, he feels like maybe he deserves something good.
And, Gods, you felt SO good.
He's transfixed, his hand reaching around to find your clit again, moaning as his mouth descends to your neck and shoulders. Needing to pull more of those exquisite sounds from you. Every one of them ringing through him like a struck anvil.
A smirk turns his lip as he stands, growling, and you brace against the door as he shows no signs of slowing. His large hand comes to cover yours on the door, wrapping around it. Eyes no longer fixed to the mirror, gaze downward, watching the way you stretch around him as he disappears into you, he can feel his release building as your body flexes around him.
The fire roars under your skin as his speed and strength increases, capturing every sight, sound, and scent, and tossing them back into the flames.
You're beyond language at this point, grunting and whimpering with every thrust. You can feel him in every part of you, until there is nothing left in the world but him and the burn of him filling you completely.
You can feel the pressure building as he growls low and sparks shoot up your spine, his hot breath crashing over your shoulders in waves as he is lost to you. He wraps his arm around you, leaning back and pulling you flush against him as his eyes fall shut.
You are consumed by the flames, arching against him with a cry as white fire streaks through you, the pressure breaks, and you are undone. Raphael follows with a roar, gripping you tightly as he buries himself in you. A second wave crashes over you when you feel him spill himself inside of you, your body milking him dry.
Trembling and breathing hard, you sit back and hold each other as you come down together. You meet his eyes in the mirror, and he's looking at you in reverence and gratitude, like you're his own personal miracle.
Because you are.
He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head in your shoulder and breathes deep, pulling your scent into his lungs as he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Glancing up, he watches himself drip out of you, staining the rug below. You are flush and exhausted, but smiling as your heart rate and breathing slow.
After taking a few moments to clean up. You crawl back into bed together. He slips his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
You smile up at him, happy, truly, actually happy, for the first time in... ever? That can't be right. It feels right. All you know is you've never been happy like this.
It won't last. It can't. He's too special. And now he knows he has options. "Just think, when you get bored with me, there's a whole community of people that will also find you hot." you chuckle softly. It was only a matter of time, right? You were nothing special.
His smile disappears.
How could you think...
"Y/N, I don't want anybody else." He says softly, sure.
"Raph, you haven't met anybody else." You counter.
"Fuck anybody else. Everybody else. I got it in one, and I ain't about to question that." He presses his forehead to yours.
You smile at him in patient, loving, disbelief. "Okay, Red."
He raises his head to look at you. "Want me to prove it? Fine. Give me a few years, I'll have you convinced."
This gets him a laugh. "Years?" you really like the sound of that.
You grin up at him. You really, really like the sound of that. But moments later, you cringe hard and start giggling, a clear sign that your brain has interrupted with something ridiculous. "Okay okay okay, I'm gonna say it. I have to say it... I've created a monster."
"If I'm lucky," he says. You look into his eyes as he smiles down at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. "You better be prepared for me not to be able to keep my hands off you," he says with a smirk.
"Y/N..." He groans and covers his face with a pillow while you cackle.
"No wait, see? Now you can't hate that word anymore because it will remind you of sex!" You chirp delightedly.
"You can't possibly be fucking serious right now..." He says, muffled by the pillow.
The next several minutes are spent with you vehemently defending your joke, while, delightfully annoyed, he quietly admits to himself that being a Monster might not be all that bad.
...
Happy Pride Month, my Monster. I love you. ♥️
...
Tag list
@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins
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ms--lobotomy · 6 months ago
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Yes, I am aware that hemipenes are found on reptiles rather than Mahi Mahi. Mahi Mahi also nut in the ocean, and I'm not going to have him nut in your pool. I have standards. Konrad still has one nut. [Previous] [Next]
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Summary: this is where you fuck for the first time
Word Count: 1314
Content Warnings: SMUT, giving reader stretch marks because I am feeling so silly, light monsterfucking, eatin out, squirting, crying during sex even though its really light sex
Image Credit: @squishyowl
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He positioned you on the ledge, staring up reverently at you. He thumbed at your side and rested his head on your lap. The tips of his hair fell into the water, radiating out from him like the rays of the sun. You giggled.
"How do you get this thing off?" he asked, half taking the piss before tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Like this?" He began to pull it up. You lifted your arms. It came off, not unlike peeling a sticker from a smooth surface. He cast it aside before he snaked his way up your body. He pressed his head into your chest, the tip of his chin on your cleavage. Your legs parted, wrapping around him as much as they could.
"Two shirts?" he asked again. You felt clawed fingers slip under the back of your sports bra as he moved his face away from you slightly.
"It's... it's a sports bra." You turned your face away from him and folded your hands over your chest.
"A sports bra?" He tugged at the bottom of it.
"Y-yeah," you replied. You ran your fingers over your knuckles before you lifted your arms back into the air and he pulled off your soggy sports bra. His eyes widened.
"What is it?" you asked sheepishly.
"You..." he mumbled, grabbing for your breast and holding it in his hand. "It's you, my... liege."
You felt blood rush to your face as he kissed you right below the nub he wasn't holding. Your legs pressed against him, tightening like a vice. "Your liege?" you asked weakly. You tangled your hands in his hair, surprisingly soft under your fingers.
"Mine," he said as he pulled away briefly.
"Mm," you started, rubbing at his scalp. "Yours."
He ducked back in to bite you softly. His teeth were sharp against you, but you could still feel him holding back over your soft flesh. You inhaled sharply before letting out a slight moan and tilting your head back.
When you thought you couldn't take any more on the left, he moved to the right and started to work you there. You felt his teeth graze the most sensitive area on your chest, and a shiver went down your spine. You squeaked out his name, again and again.
After a while, he started to trail kisses down your stomach. He ran his claw along your stretch marks, making you shudder. As you looked down at him, he kissed every last one of them. His hands were at the small of your back now, pulling you in closer.
"Why are you...?" you trailed off before he shushed you with a finger to your lips.
"Let me love you the way you should be," he said, almost as if to himself.
You melted in his arms, leaning back over the wet concrete. He darted his arms over to catch you, meeting your soft flesh before it could tear open. You looked over yourself at him, legs opening instinctively before you realized that your shorts were still on.
"Let me get those off of you," he mumbled as he used his other hand to tug at your pants. He raised his eyebrows when he saw your underwear, but dutifully pulled them off as well. His hands met each other behind you, making something cool for you to lean back on. You shuddered as he closed his eyes, guiding himself to your needy cunt.
He was gentle. His tongue was rough; longer than it should be on him, but his eyes soon opened as he looked up at you. Your brain began to fog up, thinking of nothing but him pleasuring you. You cried out, soon putting a hand over your mouth. He moaned into you before he pulled away for just a second.
"You're safe with me. Let it out," he cooed, his thumb running over your shoulder.
A shiver went down your spine before you relaxed in him and your hand fell from your face. "I... am," you said weakly.
"You are," he replied, nuzzling between your legs before he began to feast again. You felt him hit places that someone shouldn't be able to, and you moaned softly as you ran your hands through his hair again. Your head tilted back, and you felt yourself squirt around him as a long and drawn out moan escaped your lips.
He cleaned you up as you bottomed out and clarity began to return to you. Your chest heaved up and down as he rocked you down into the water, carrying you to the shallow end of the pool.
"Mortarion..." you mumbled, arms wrapped around his neck.
"Yes?" he asked, sitting on the stairs and positioning you on his lap, facing him. His hands were on your waist, grinding you against his cocks.
"I..." you started, not quite knowing what to say.
"Is everything okay, liege?"
You felt tears begin to sting your eyes as you buried your face in his chest. "'m fine," you said, wrapping your arms around him.
He pried you off, tilting your face up as the red in your eyes became more pronounced. "You're crying," he said, running his other hand through your hair. "Does anything hurt?"
"Mmm, no," you replied, looking up at him. "Just not used to being treated like this, I guess."
He said your name, each syllable cascading gently from his mouth before he pulled you back towards him. "I won't hurt you," he said quietly as your hand brushed up against one of his cocks. "I won't hurt you. I promise." Your head was against his chest now, and you could feel his heartbeats thrum rapidly, his breath slightly ragged against you.
"I trust you," you said as you closed your eyes.
"Thank you," he said as he grabbed your waist and pulled you down on one of his cocks. You chirped, your eyes already rolling back and the tension in your shoulders releasing. You went limp against him as he slowly filled you out. He put a comforting hand to your back as he buried himself all the way in. He kept you there for a moment, panting slightly, before he thrust back a little bit and fucked into you gently.
Your eyes closed slightly as he took you, taking his time with you as his chest muffled your moans. He grunted with each thrust, and it made you bounce on him despite the slow pace. You moaned his name again and again, looking up at him.
He was smiling. It was a gentle expression on his face, which only brightened as he saw you look up at him. You threw your arms around him, whispering nonsense about how pretty he looked between thrusts.
When your eyes had fallen shut again, he took you off of him. They opened, and you looked down with a questioning gaze before he speared you back on his other.
"O-oh!" you cried as he began to resume his pace, staring lovingly down at you. "Mortarion--"
"What is it?" he asked. You felt him speeding up, and he snaked his way up the stairs quickly as you clenched around him. He turned so that you were facing the pool, and he was facing away.
"Mortarion, I'm about to-- aah!" you cried out, gushing on him again. You felt your vision blur for a moment before he came into you as well, throbbing. You felt your stomach grow with how hard he came, his other cock spurting helplessly onto the concrete. You collapsed on him, a heaving mess.
He leaned back, floating in the pool while you were atop him. He put his tail fin to you back, stroking it lightly. You moaned again, and he took one of your hands and pressed it against the top of his chest.
"You're safe here," he said.
"I am."
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Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf
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rinwellisathing · 2 months ago
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Get to know my OCs: modern vibes: who would they be in a modern setting?
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Sentry Ojeda:
Edgelord goth core art kid. Always has a sketchbook and pens, noise canceling headphones covered in edgy stickers, horror and band merch, hand-distressed clothing and big hair, kinda unintentionally smug and gate keepy about how obscure his favorite music and horror movies are, if you invite him to your tabletop game, he is edgy mcedgelord. Big fan of Jhonen Vazquez.
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Wysp Silksong:
Indie musician, cat dad, cool guy working at the record store who always plays at coffee house open mic nights and pines after the guy he likes that he just can't confess to. Mostly keeps to himself and unironically posts how much better he likes his cats than people.
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Kroger of Creche K'liir:
Super serious medical student. Over achiever in highschool, dangerously close to burnout, survives on triple shots of espresso and protein bars, this will all be worth it when he's a doctor. Family is everything and he is overworking himself trying to keep his family happy this whole time. Goes to the gym to stay in shape but also secretly likes to be around all the work out bros.
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Jaina Thalassia:
Beach and books girlie. Surfing, reading on the beach, collecting shells, special interest is marine biology and nautical history, equally a crystals and goddess energy girl. Disability advocate as well because of her illness, good with kids and clowns on people who hate on kids online. Theatre kid
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Jackal Silk:
The guy you cross the street to avoid, probably spent too much time on 4chan and reddit, toxic masculinity and cringe tough guy shit, trolls people constantly, tough guy copy pasta energy.
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Octavia of Creche K'liir:
Plushie collector, monsterfucker, long info deep dives and getting caught up watching hours long video essays online, kinda a 'well actually'person, always taking notes, shitty student but full of obscure facts and information, infodumping.
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jplupineislost · 1 year ago
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