#mouth open sliming
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zaycheese · 1 year ago
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I need to stop watching slime vidoes because I start foaming at the mouth I wanna eat it i wanna tatse it cronch nom no nom nom
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jitteryjive · 1 year ago
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got recommended a post on here where someone complained about mario wonder because there’s vore in it. saying this as someone who finished the game. Hey where is the vore
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shevour · 1 year ago
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very much in a ' write 4 pages of character lore ' writing mood and not a ' do your replies ' writing mood
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florshedworf · 1 year ago
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youtube hear me out: im just not interested in this kind of video
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corkinavoid · 4 months ago
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DPxDC "Pick Me Up"
The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.
Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.
Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.
That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:
"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."
Joker sputters.
"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"
The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.
"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."
Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.
"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.
"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."
"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.
But none of them get to finish.
"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.
The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.
And that's not a guy.
The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.
Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.
Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, and?"
"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.
"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.
"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:
"I remember!"
Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"
The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."
Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.
"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.
"I hate you."
"Thanks," Danny grins.
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shaisuki · 3 months ago
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thinking about a tentacled incubus who is different from the regular incubus who only have wings. he's similar to a nine-tailed fox but tentacles and much to his delight he's using it to pleasure his human whom he encountered and he's been with you ever since.
oh how it delights him seeing you suspended in the air with his tentacles. wrapped around your wrists and ankles. spreaded for him to admire while his tentacles sucks the supple skin of your body and the largest of his tentacle is pumping your fat pussy in and out. the slimy texture of his tentacles being produced glints in the lightest of movement.
loud squelches can be heard throughout the room. your slick mixes with the slime creating the noises that blurs your mind in a daze. you're such a sight, you know. in all of his years since existing he had never enjoyed such human for his desires and then you're in front of him. boneless from how many he have made you cum. droplets of your juices are staining the floor below you.
he also loves the dazed look in your face. your pretty eyes barely opening and drool dripping from the corners of your mouth while being stuffed by one of his tentacles. although, his tentacles are attached to him, they have seem the mind to think while they are attached to you. the appendages are attached to your breasts, twirling your hardened nipples and the other are like vacuum to your soft stomach. leaving suction marks to your skin.
he watch you through his lust filled eyes. he can never get enough of this sight and are you cumming again? oh, yes. his tentacle that is stuffing your pussy made sure to get deeper and curls in that sweet spot of yours making you cum harder than intended. his tentacle slowly pumps to ease your orgasm before it goes to it's pace that had you cumming earlier.
too much? no, it's not. you're cumming as long as he pleases. he's not even satisfied at least. he can make this go on forever. after all, you belong to him. you and your supple body.
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whereserpentswalk · 3 months ago
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Reblog to receive your transformation. Look under the cut to see how your choice goes.
Lycanthrope: You can feel your bones shifting, your soul becoming forever fluid. As the moonlight shines on you you realize you can shift, as easily as you could go from sitting to standing. You can feel your hands turn into paws, your mouth become long, your entire body feel so warm and comfy under a pelt of fur. And you can run, through the forests and streets, and you can see and hear and smell like you never had before. And then you can go back, or remain in-between. Yet even in human form it's always with you, like your other form can always be in there waiting, waiting to be let out. You look in the mirror and it's not just you, your human face is just one part of a larger whole now.
Angels blood: it feels painful at first. You cough up what you think it blood but it looks like static. Your eyes start to glow but then wings come out from the back of your head to cover them forever. More wings sprout from your back, they feel nice, strange to move, strange to have new joints and bones and muscles, yet so soft and delicate and sensitive. Your body slowly shifts, as you become slender yet muscular, and you become completely androgynous, your sex organs fall away and any holes to expell waste close up. You feel comfortable all the time, you don't need to eat or sleep, and can't feel pain or tired, you're so strong now, yet so delicate.
Cyborg: You feel yourself being cut open. They decided to take away your sensation of pain instead of making you unconscious, so you feel everything it's just not painful at all. You can feel them cut through bone, dismembering you peice by peice, limbs and organs being gone forever, the strange sensation of body parts suddenly going dark. And then it comes back, peice by peice you get put back together. And your new parts all feel so strange, cold hard metal and plastic, they all move and feel differently then what you're used to, but they all feel so right. When you finally get up everything is diffrent, and when you see yourself in the mirror you realize there's no going back, you'll never be human again, you're as much a machine as a person, yet you're yourself, you're even more yourself then before.
Vampire: When you were first bitten it didn't feel like much, the transformation was slow. You became more androgynous every day. Your skin lost its color until it was entirely grayscale. You lost weight, you couldn't eat, at first you got compliments from weird people but soon you just looked sick, as you could see bones through your skin. Eventually you basically went through puberty in reverse, until you were sexless, and your genitals shunk until there was nothing left. You hadn't eaten in so long, but food seemed gross to you. Soon your mouth began to shift, seeming wounded at first, and then healing, it looked human when closed save for a few lines around your cheeks and jaw, but when you opened it all the way it was a massive complex maw with many jaws and countless sharp fangs, taking up half your face when fully open. After not eating for so long you finally take a sip of blood, from a freind willing to let you try, your veins light up red for a few moments and you feel so good, it's like a mix between the best food in your mortal life, and the joys of an orgasm, and you feel satisfied like you never had before.
Fae: You slowly let the strange tall woman pet your head and you know you're hers. She giggles as she takes out an eye in her hand and puts it back in bloodlessly. She waves her hand over your arm as it turns to living plant mater, and then she tilts her head to see if it fits and turns it back. She smiles, knowing what she'll do. Slowly she starts work, taking away parts and putting back new ones like you're a building toy. You look and see as she tries new limbs, new faces, everything she can think of, your human form being nothing more then a base she can customize. As she painlessly pulls out your teeth and puts gems in their place, and takes off layers of skin to make way for a new exoskeleton, she compliments you and tells you how good you are, and she gives you a kiss on the forehead right before she glues new wings to your back.
Doll: you can see your old self laying there dead, as you look at your new ageless hands. You can't pass for human like this but it doesn't matter, you have visible joins, and a flat unmoving face. It's weird moving without any soft skin. But you look in the mirror and you're so cute, they gave you such a pretty face, and started you off in a cute little suit to wear, with a rose it it's pocket and flowers in your artificial hair. You take a bit to figure out how to walk with your new legs, and everyone who looks at you thinks you're so pretty, not even as a person but as a peice of art, as something human hands made.
Mermaid: You feel yourself deep in the sea. But you aren't drowning. The water goes from blue to black but your eyes can see down here, and your body can live with the pressure. You can see around you as a city below the sea looms above and below you. Your body parts light up to accommodate the shadows, as do the creatures around you. As you start to swim your legs fuse together, and soon there are no legs, no feet, just a long serpentine tail, your body becoming cold and scaled from the chest down. You feel like you're wearing something cold restricting your movements but there's nothing on you. You can breath yet your mouth and nose take in no air. You'll never live with the humans again. Is this home. This is home?
Wyvern: You let the massive scaled creature bow to you and you touch its head. And suddenly you are one. It's like a link is formed and you can't tell where you and and it begins, your instincts, your thoughts, are the same. You can still feel and move your own body but likewise you can do the exact same for it. You can feel what it's like to move with the creature's weight yet elegance, with its sleek slender form, to move its powerful sharp toothed jaws and its delicate yet powerful wings. There's fire within this new body, and when you so wish you can breath it in and out. And it's all so natrual. You can see through both eyes, and you notice it's eyes have your color now, and a human shape, while yourse have its yellow green, and it's slit pupils now. You feel a need to fly that you know will soon be satisfied. You aren't one begin anymore, you aren't just yourself, you are mount and rider, and you feel your other body's wings spread as easily as you'd spread your arms.
Slime: it happens slowly, all of your body going away. First parts just feel soft, then soft enough to poke into, then it's just pink goo that you can move around as much as you'd like. The Flesh transforms but you just have to digest your own bones. The last parts to go are on your head, your teeth melting away as the last remnant of your humanity. Then you can move everything, it's unnatural feeling at first, you don't have individual body parts, just one shapeless mass that can be whatever you want, at one momment you'll be a human shaped thing, but the next you can be a shapeless blob, or anything else. Every part of you can see, and hear, and taste, and eat. You feel so fluid, so free, you are constrained now by nothing.
Living clothing: You let it wrap around you. It's fluid at first, wrapping around you. You can feel it bond to your skin, become as much a part of you as any other layer of flesh. It transforms, it can be any article of clothing, any outfit, all small or as large as long as there's something still on you. And you can feel it, whatever it is you can sense through it, it feels cold and wet in a refreshing way, and when it's something all around you it like a part of you is able to hug and hold yourself. But it's not you, it starts to whisper, and you realize you'll never be alone again.
Spirit: you are nothing. You can feel nothing. Your body is gone, truly gone, yet you can see, you are somewhere. And at just a thought you can be anywhere else you want to be, and look however you want. You can't touch. There is no more touch but you can lift with your mind what you desire. And you can see souls, see thoughts, see the mindscape that humans never can. Yet you're never to feel again. That is unless you possess someone, those bodies do look so possesable, to see what they see and feel what they feel. Mabye you can't just grab someone, but a living host...
Demon: the pact is sealed and your soul is forever gone. You don't feel diffrent, you're still you, but you can see souls, see the people around you have them, and they look so sweet, taste so good. Your true form sets in, as first you look like your ideal self, but then you begin to mutate. Raven's wings come from your back and horns grow from your head. Your eyes redden and teeth sharpen, and your hair becomes replaced with snakes, as a single snake replaces your sex organs. A Scorpion's tail comes out from your spine, and your feet turn into hardened hoves. You feel your new body parts and they feel so good, so natrual, they feel like this is what you were always meant to look like. You can turn back but it'll just be an illusion, this is your body now. Your wings and tail feel so good to move, like they were always meant to be there, like you were missing something without them, and as your snake hair rises it feels so nice, so powerful.
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starboye · 9 days ago
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starring: eddie brock x male reader x venom
request: hi!! can i request a eddie brock/venom x male reader smut where eddie finally introduces reader to venom and venom can’t help but let all his dirty thoughts about what he wants to do to reader out. i’m talking bondage, breeding, ass eating (ikyk his tongue goes crazy)
warnings: smut, monster fucking, freaky!venom, HUGE DICK VENOM, unprotected sex, creampie, ass eating, cum eating, ball and dick cleaning i guess
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as much as eddie did NOT want to introduce you and venom, the pestering was getting a little to much from the both of you so he decided finally it was time, calling you over to his apartment and slowly letting venom come out from his shoulder, a floating head connected to a tendril coming out of your boyfriends back was weird but you've seen weirder.
"y/n meet venom and venom meet y/n" eddie says "pleased to eat you y/n" venom says without mush of a filet, your ass was nice looking and he wanted that "pleased to eat you to venom" you shake one of his tendrils and immediately wipe the sort of slime on your pants.
"i like him, he has a sort of humor" venom says out loud "venom" eddie tries to stop him from starting to embarrass him "don't worry i think you're kinda cool to venom" you say with a laugh "your lips look really nice can i cum on them" he blurts out unexpectedly "well that's enough talking from you v" eddie tries to get venom back inside his body but he takes over instead.
"well i mean if you want to but im not against it" you smile to show off your lips more the symbiote "when eddie told me about you i thought i wasn't going to like you but now that you're here i want to do so many things" he says and eddie already knows what this is going to turn to so he tries to stop him but venom is just to strong, staying in control for just a little longer.
"oh pray tell more" you scoot closer to him "well i want to eat your delicious looking ass, i want to fuck you till you cant think, i want to cum all over your pretty face, and i want to make you my boyfriend" he says all in one breath with a complete smile through it all "well we could do some of those things today" you say getting on his lap.
who would've thought you'd be so open to getting fucked by an alien but hey who am i to judge (you people would let a fox fuck you aka nick wilde but hey i would too) you're quick to start making out with him, his long tongue exploring your mouth and making it's way down your throat, he was surprised to see you had no gag reflex which had his mind running.
eddie watched from inside as you lubed up venom fat cock with your saliva and slide all nineteen inches into you "haha i told you the human could fit me eddie" venom cheers as you bounce up and down on his long shaft, an obvious belly bulge poking out from your stomach and sort of in your chest, but venom still knew you were a puny human so he took it slow with you.
letting you rock your hips back and forth of his cock until he could feel himself cumming, and listening to your moan about how you love venoms' big dick so much had him aching to fill your pretty ass up but the things is, is this safe like symbiotes can cum a lot and like i mean A LOT so like will this hurt you?
meh i guess there's only one way to find out, unloading his pent up cum into your stretched ass that was unable to hold his cum in you for to long before it was spilling out, you looked a little out of it but you were a live so that counts for something "now how about we try that other thing" you ask with a weak grin on your face.
venom flipping you over and shoving his long tongue down your hole to lick the excess cum out while you cleaned` him up down below, lick the cum from his fat balls and making sure his cock was all nice and shiny, eddie just had to watch as you slutted yourself out to the alien but he's not gonna lie he was kinda turned on by it all.
"can we keep him eddie" venom asks still face deep in your ass "id love to stay plus i cant really walk so" you chuckle and for some reason just hearing you laugh made venoms cock throb, he doesn't know why but maybe it's a sign to go again
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taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac
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strangely-written-desires · 26 days ago
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CW: Non-Con/Dub-Con
MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI
You get one on pure impulse. The lure of it was tempting indeed, yours with one simple click of a button, and this one’s on a discount. How could you resist?
Slimes began trending just recently, with videos popping up on your page raving about how loveable they are, how they don’t require much, and how they are perfect pets if you’re away a lot.
Life has been stressful, and incredibly lonely, and this seemed like the perfect thing to help you get through it; it would be nice to have something to take care of, to look after. So you bought one.
It arrived quickly—one-day delivery is truly something—and in pristine condition. The packaging was odd—a single metal cylinder in such a big box—but you supposed that slimes could handle it; they’re resilient monsters, after all.
The cylinder is fancy—a smootn cream color, practically futuristic—and it has instructions on how to care for it. These include what to feed it (practically everything; rat poison is not recommended), how to play with it, and what to do if it starts to feel ill (very unlikely). You hum as you read it, pausing once you get to the red lettering.
‘Do not kiss or bite—’ Who’s biting these things? ‘—Human saliva contains bacteria harmful to slimes; if it ingests any bodily fluids, immediately keep your distance from it and call this number. XXX-XXX-XXX’
You furrow your brows at this, finding it odd, to say the least. Slimes are known to have the ability to eat anything, any poison having little to no effect on them; they’re virtually indestructible. But human saliva is what does it? You shrug, figuring that perhaps domesticated slimes are different—weaker, more prone to harm.
You open it, and the side of the container slides open with a hiss. It’s not long before it begins to spill out, latching onto your fingers before sliding onto your hand—cool and smooth to the touch.
You marvel at the sight of it, in awe, as it continues to climb up your arm, studying the feel of your skin and your scent. Its touch ticklish; you laugh at the feeling. It practically purrs at that, pleased as it tries to inch its way toward the source of the sound.
“Woah, woah, getting a little too close there, bud,” you comment, gently removing it from you, the warning still fresh in your mind, “wouldn’t want you to get hurt on your first day.”
You set it down on the ground, stepping back when it attempts to climb you once more. “How ‘bout you explore the place instead? It’s your home now, too, you know.”
It pauses its movements as if understanding you (you wouldn’t be surprised if it does; slimes are quite intelligent, or so you hear) before seemingly looking around the place—you can’t really tell because it has no face, no eyes to gaze upon. You leave it to its own devices, wanting it to adjust to your home and not crowd it too much.
Yet everywhere you go, it follows, never straying and always attempting to climb you. You eventually relent, letting it stick to your shoulder as you go about your day. It’s awfully clingy, not that you mind, but the reviews never said anything about that.
Slimes usually come in many different colors, but domesticated ones are vastly limited; those ones come in green (the classic), blue, and purple, but yours is different. It’s an unusual hot pink. A pretty color, but not common, not at all. Maybe that’s why it was on sale.
It feeds on anything, enjoying everything you give it. You’re sure if you gave it trash, it would munch on it happily—not that you’d ever do such a thing; your slime only eats the best of the best, the best of the best being whatever you eat. However, over the course of several days, you’ve found out its odd need to try and consume everything you put in your mouth.
Your toothbrush? Cups you’ve drunk from? Utensils you’ve used? You’ve had to bat it away, wrestle it off the counter, and keep it from devouring your discarded trash. You’ve even caught it trying to go through your dirty laundry.
Whatever reviews that said it was low maintenance and barely had any problems are fucking liars. Not that you would ever send it away; you adore it and its little odd quirks.
You specifically bought a slime-proof cage for when you have to step out and are unable to keep it devouring everything you touch. The container it came in would’ve done just fine, but you wanted it to have some space to move around in—to not feel contained and trapped in one tight place. You never thought it could escape; after all, it is “slime-proof,” specifically designed to keep it in place.
Those stressful days never do vanish, but its presence makes it better. Bearable. And you don’t feel lonely anymore. Instead, your days are filled with a sort of warmth that hadn’t been there before.
You're grateful for that.
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Although, on particularly stressful days, you turn to more primitive ways of relief and relaxation.
Today’s one of those days.
And it’s on one of those days that you don’t hear it slipping out of its cage in the other room—glass broken and shattered, scattered across the floor. You don’t hear how it slithers to your bedroom, desperate to taste your arousal in the air. It slides under the crack of your door, basically speeding to get to where you are as you chase yourself to the edge—try and fail.
Your vibrator’s dead, and your fingers aren’t doing the job; they are too short to hit that gooey spot just right to make you shake with pleasure. Your frustration builds as you pump them in faster, swirling your clit in a desperate attempt to push you over.
You jolt when the slime creeps onto your leg, your orgasm falling flat. Your lip quivers, eyes blurring from the frustration of another failed attempt. Shock and anger burst through you, bewildered at how it escaped its cage.
“How did you even— What are you…stop it, get off,” you hissed, moving to pull it off your leg.
But your hand goes right through the slime; it doesn’t stop, continuing its ascent up your thigh. You panic, foolishly using the hand, still slick with your need, to move it. It pauses, your fingers tingle as it slurps up what’s left on it. You try to take back your hand, but it latches on, keeping it in place.
“Let go—”
Dread fills your chest, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does; if anything, it looks bigger. Once it's had a taste, you can feel it shiver for more. It unlatches, fingers thoroughly cleaned from your arousal.
You see small parts of itself reaching for your wet cunt, little tendrils reaching to taste the juices dripping from it. You try to bat it away, get it off you, but it doesn’t budge.
“Wait, don’t. Don’t—”
It’s too quick for you to stop it, soaking up the juices beneath you before moving onto your cunt. It’s eager, pushing itself into you with a forceful thrust; a choked gasp escapes your throat.
It buries itself in you, drowning itself in your slick just to taste it—devour it. Its want for more is almost monstrous; you feel it slowly growing inside you. It starts to move, doesn’t give you time to adjust, to process, before plunging deeper and deeper into you.
It has you writhing on your bed, gripping the sheets to have some sort of anchor. It retracts before diving back in.
You cry out, pleasure wracking you with each thrust, hitting that spot over and over again. You frantically rub your puffy clit, trying to reach that high that’ll have you falling over the ledge.
You should probably stop to think about how you currently are getting fucked by a slime—your supposed pet slime—but after multiple failed orgasms, you don’t think to care at the moment.
You feel it expanding, stretching you open with no remorse. Besides, you can’t stop it; it feels too good to stop, not that you could even if you wanted; it seems in no rush to slow down.
It’s not long before you fall over, toes curling, back arching as your eyes roll back. It fucks you through it, drinking up your cum like its last meal, leaving you panting and spent. Yet it doesn’t stop; it continues, despite how overstimulated you are. It makes you cum three more times before it decides it has its fill for the day.
It continues this routine everyday, there’s a day where your cunt isn’t stuffed full of it, milking you for all your worth. It doesn’t consume any food, deciding your cum’s enough to satiate its hunger.
You can’t tell if your decision to get a slime was a good one or not.
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barnacles34 · 2 months ago
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Mr. Rager, Can I Tag Along?
Part I
Synopsis: Mr. Rager finally joins the birds in the skies. Dedicated to the song Mr. Rager by Kid Cudi.
tags: 8k, smut, so much romance, fluff, addiction, recovery, virgin Ryujin
Ryujin x Male OC
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CHAPTER I: 
You might hear the birds singing flying around,
You never see them too long on the ground,
You wanna be one of them, yeah.
Cocaine toxicity. Solipsism finally vindicated. He was going to die—truly. That cloudy feeling of mind and body separation, as if the ribbons of heaven had finally let him grasp their reins, swaying him toward some version of forever happiness.
Mmmm.
He thought he’d care about dying right there in the nightclub. The shame of weakness, of collapsing with foam at the corners of his mouth—he’d truly thought he’d care more about it. But now, one worry gone, he was worriless. Life had its charm, but it wasn’t for him; he’d been walking on sticks until the very end. Now, the floor felt so right. His body sank into it, slipping slowly, as if turning to slime and merging back into the earth.
Each second, his grip over his fingers weakened, a constant slackening with every passing moment. His eyelids grew heavy, and the outline of the nightclub around him blurred. He couldn’t control his fingers anymore; he was truly sinking. When would heaven begin? When would this fantasy end? Mind-death, a complete and utter submission to the lifeless realm - he’d never recover.
The faint tingling of powder lingered at the rim of his nostrils. At least, he’d had a good high - a nice ecstasy haze along the fine columbian - before dying. Finally, his eyes closed, nerves shutting down, and he felt free, unchained from his body like a ghost.
"Stay with me!" A voice, deep and feminine.
Hm?
"Don’t close your eyes!" Again, that voice.
What?
Whatever. It was too late anyway.
"How many fingers am I holding up!?" Still images flashed through his fading consciousness, fingers held up just before his face, barely visible, though he couldn’t tell how many anyway.
"What’s your name?" He couldn't place a face on the voice, but it was distinctly feminine - separate from his inner voices.
They were trying so hard. If they’d responded any faster, he might’ve been forced to go back - to life.
Go back…
Did he want to go back?
Hell.
Mr. Rager - that’d be a good name, he thought. If he were reborn, given another chance, that’s who he’d be.
"Mr. Rager!"
What? Could the paramedic hear him?
"Mr. Rager! Come back! Fight back! Don’t go off on an adventure!"
Flash. Eyes open. He was alive - he was… alive.
"Mr. Rager. You’re okay; don’t make any sudden movements." A soft, padded palm rubbed his forehead with a gentle, compassionate touch. He looked up. A young woman, petite yet strikingly beautiful, looked back at him.
"What’s your name?" he asked, despite himself. Still a bachelor, after all. "My name is Ryujin." She was dressed in a way he couldn’t quite place, something different from what he expected. "I’m part-time, by the way," she said, noticing his confused look. "That’s why my clothes are different." He rubbed his forehead; it was pounding, but with a distant sort of ache, incongruous with a proper headache. “What the hell happened?” he asked, properly confused. “You went into shock, someone already administered naloxone to your body, thankfully; otherwise, you would’ve-” she abruptly bit her tongue, preventing herself from talking about a potentially sensitive topic that Mr. Rager was subjected to.
“And, by the way, this was my first call ever.” A subtle transition, a conversation starter.
He blinks, trying to relieve the soreness in his eyes, “God, I’m sorry, this is such a fucking shitty situation.” And the way he said it, that emotional self-deprecation.
She might’ve realized something, “Were you trying to commit suicide?” She asked, very bluntly.
“It’s none of your business. Thank you for the hospitality, I’ll be taking my leave now.” When he tried to take the IV fastened to his vein, Ryujin softly, with the firmest grip and tone, said, “You’re going nowhere.”
All Mr. Rager could think of were cuss words, cusses against the world, against destiny to be alive for the foreseeable future. 
A resolve to suicide is the moment the mind, at the cusp of mind-death, truly enters a dead mind. The inescapable rock-bottom, a self-fulfilling prophecy where one feels truly and utterly fastened to the floor - inhibited of all its freedoms, its happiness.
Mr. Rager, or better known as Min amongst his peers - not friends. At the hands of his peers, Mr. Rager sustained a traumatic head injury that tormented him with chronic migraines right from the start of it all - the drunk brawl, that he decisively lost in, at just the age of 17. 
See, Mr. Rager had not a single family member except his aunt who embezzled all the funds Rager’s parents left for him. And the last time he tried to talk with his aunt was when he sustained a knife wound on his forearm from her - a deeply tormented individual, she was locked in a home-made cage for most of her adolescence.
And, unfortunately, there’s not a single time where his life is measurably better than the year before - only getting worse until the overdose.
Ryujin didn’t inquire further, she was hoping somewhat that her presence might help Mr. Rager. She sat next to Mr. Rager, her hand still on the side of the hospital bed, feeling its soft fabric. Mr. Rager, still irritated, asked, “Why are you still here?”
“Cause I want to be here.” A joking undertone, perfectly acted out. In truth, Ryujin pitied him so much, her first patient, a successful businessman who tried to kill himself at the age of 29 - now that’s fucking rare, usually the cases accelerate at the age  of 50 or so.
“Why’d you take this job?” 
She replied, “Artistic inspiration.”
“Hm, fantastic idea by the way.” He was sincere about it.
“Thanks.”
“Do you have enough material now?”
“Oh. Plenty. Plenty enough.” She giggled.
“What if I don’t consent to my likeness being represented in your art - medium, whatever?”
“Mr. Rager, don’t you worry, I’ll refurbish it so much that it'll be closer to the likeness of… let’s say… me.”
“Quit the teasing,” he stated, straight to the point.
“I don’t want to.” She replied back, he was one of the few people where teasing seemed to genuinely improve their immediate well-being, and for someone like Mr. Rager - it’s huge. And, he was finally laying, no longer trying to plan an escape, on the flatbed, staring at the ceiling, observing the music player. “By the way, is this music player provided to everyone recovering?” He’s not one to mix words.
“You’re pretty smart.” She replies, a confirmation, fiddling with her torn skirt, presumably from rushing into her para-medic role.
“That’s what I owe you for?”
“Mhm.” Still fiddling, a pouty sort of face formed on her face, it was her favorite skirt.
“How do you want the debt paid?” He inquired, he’s one to never ignore the nascent attachment to his favorite items - thus, he understands: the exorbitant value placed on favoritisms. “I dunno. You’ll still owe me. Big Time.” She stared back, this time, their eyes entwined with a sort of friendliness that is almost, just almost, ethically wrong in hospital circumstances.
“Very well then.” His tired eyes kept pulling on his eyelids. Genuine sleep had seemed to completely take over his body, and yeah, that’s all the meds he’s under: naloxone, antibiotics, withdrawal medicine, and a lovely dose of morphine. “I feel new.” His voice was dozing as his intra-reflection began. As he nodded off, he felt the faint grasp of her hand, so small, yet filled with so much conviction. He’s tripping balls, but she’ll never tell him - presence was what was required of her.
And that was all the validation he needed: for sleep.
As Mr. Rager finally slept; Ryujin stayed for a bit, or about 4 hours. And, still, she’s sitting beside him - making sure that he sleeps and recovers. Just from the chance encounter of a paramedic call, she felt the compulsion to guard Mr. Rager. Poor girl, if she’d seen a dead body for her first call then she’d vomit a week’s worth onto the ground. 
After another hour, Ryujin finally decided it was time to leave. She wrote a thoughtful letter, of things that needn’t be said - obviously. But she also left a partition, finagling a creative way to demand what she’s owed. After, she let her boss know that she quit on the spot, that she’d also come back to the same room - a reservation of some sort. She left, leaving the stale, minty air of the hospital with a melancholy that wouldn’t be fixed until she saw him again. Because, when she was writing the note, she wished she asked more questions - Mr. Rager just seemed to lead on the conversation to a charming degree, that other circumstances were of lesser importance. 
Ryujin, outside, breathing in the fresh air of the summer, caught the last bus of the route. This route, passing by the road that she was taken on inside the paramedic van, also led to her apartment. Unfortunately, it’s an old, decrepit apartment where only the rudest sort of parties happen. Half the time, the floor above is vibrating thump, thump, thump from the heavy jumps, or the lower floor blasts some of the most needlessly, eardrum-breaking music.
At least she has solitude. Finally free from the dictates of those she didn’t get along with, finally separated from her friends who’d get too boring if she hung along for too long. Now, her family is charming - easy to get along with; now, her friends are always interesting - fascinating to be around. Distance is a marinating technique, or whatever.
Ryujin, the charming shut-in, finally arrived at her place, and began on her art piece. Unfortunately, there’s nothing to list that’s positive about her obsession with art. It’s the time where she vents her frustrations of being a failed trainee - rather, a placement that was restricted from becoming an idol; wallows in the misery of the color tone she loves the most: dark; and, to top it off, she gets bored of visual arts when she tries to make money off of it. Some dastardly sign from the man above, “Your hobby will stay a hobby.”
All that displeasure would be the paint upon the canvas: checkmate, mental turmoil turns to art, she thought. Swipe and swipe, the dirty colored watercolor painting had nearly no form worth thinking - almost entirely brown from the intermixing of the wet, damp color. Then the second layer, an apparition of segmentation, a deeper color, colors that entice and bite back. Then the specificity of the lines, things left unspecified were on purpose. But, this recurring thought, this pounding idea, that she left a man that fell in the depths of the void alone - really began digging into her soul. This thought unto Ad Nauseam brought her nausea that really can’t be eliminated with the will of her conscience. “I should’ve stayed, I should’ve stayed” - the recurrent thoughts that never seemed to leave her. With a sad howl, she fell to the side, crying deep, ruining all her pretty into the sheets - a room so small that her chair was the bed.
“I’m still alive”, Mr. Rager repeated this to himself over and over after waking up - not sure whether to feel some sort of rendered triumph. For a moment, he was truly tip-toed in the void, almost encased into the endless hope, of unrendered reality and a horrible sadness; now, he’s alive, breathing, with a full control of his body.
Nothing had caught his attention, the environment, whether there were people around him or not, only life as he knew it - coursing through his veins. The feeble thumps of his chest - his heart, still persevering.
Several days of this sort of morning locomotion went on, it was also the time that Ryujin came over. Poor girl brought over new confectionaries - mostly of her favorites; brought lunch boxes she herself fully funded; found ways to amuse herself and Mr. Rager during the listless hours.
“What’s the interest rate of this debt? Surely, a person like me, fastened to the bed with belts (a pure exaggeration), wouldn’t be extorted with dubious rates?”
“Mr. Rager, you’ll have to declare bankruptcy by the end of it, seriously. You owe me. Big time.” She joked back, of course, she didn’t really expect much. By her own goodwill, Ryujin was looking after Mr. Rager, an exchange of her goodwill would almost sour all her community service - again, a flash of her trait, a blithely weak trait in modern society, a subtle revulsion to being paid for her services.
Mr. Rager, however, was the opposite. Rogue-man, Rager man, Mr. Rager, a name that fits him so closely, from the early onset of consciousness, an unruly rebelliousness coursing through his veins at all times, with flourish - with the crimonest red. He’s done it all, disowning his billionaire politician parents, who still relish the thought of meeting Mr. Rager one day; losing all his wealth, gaining it back the next; then, enjoying it all on a single roulette wheel, then forgiving the casino when they couldn’t pay his winnings; and then dying for a few seconds, under the angelic influence of the so-called hellish “nose candy”. But for his closure, his preference—he’s pastless, futureless.
That’s the dilemma, Ryujin hadn’t learned a single thing about Mr. Rager that was worth pulling a strand on. Contradictory statements only confounded her further, and a reply to her joke - of bankruptcy and debt - he’d say, “I’d have to find it buried somewhere.” And she’d think, “What? What the hell? What’s buried? What’s ‘it’ ?”
Often the thought was interrupted, never fully leaving its conception—Mr. Rager wanted to keep it that way. Ryujin, often on her phone, never leaving her eyes off Mr. Rager, spent her delicate hours in the breezy, spacious hospital room.
Mr. Rager, of course alarmed, would ask - every day - “why do you visit so often?”
Then, Ryujin, really not knowing an answer, would default to a bland answer of so and so - real political talk. This procession, of nothing happening, stretching on for days was repetitive. It also made them happy. She’d put on her makeup, with her artsy hands - quick and fast. The rapidity with which she approached this situation, so contrary to all the aspects of her life - seemingly, Mr. Rager had brought vitality to Ryujin.
And in comes the day of withdrawal, the hospital withdrawal - where Ryujin and Mr. Rager resided comfortably. The door clicked softly as the nurse entered; simultaneously, Ryujin and Mr. Rager’s hairs stood up - what are they alarmed for? It was not, the nurse, no, absolutely not, the nurse was jovial, happy, thinking that she was delivering happy news.
She didn’t know that both of them found their only sources of joy inside this hospital. The nurse thought that she was relieving them of a most ludicrous bill, by ending it as soon as possible - as this hospital in particular, charges in hours, yeah, real dystopian shit. And so, it was a surprise when both the people had an almost disdainful stare towards her - it’s just my imagination, the nurse thought.
“Are you sure? You know overdraft schedules cost significantly more?” The nurse asked, confused, concerned.
“Yeah, yeah, I just want to stay here for one more day.” Mr. Rager replied.
“But, but - do you have any ailment? That’ll bring down the price.” 
“None at all, I just want to stay here for another day more.”
Rich people are nuts, the nurse, still, complied, letting him stay, leaving him for another day.
As the day progressed, Ryujin came back, again, in the evening. “Your schedule, how do you do that?” Mr. Rager was genuinely impressed with how Ryujin utilized her time, imagine his surprise when she just says, “I just skipped some stuff.”
“Alright, well, thanks for coming.” And that got Ryujin thinking, was this his first time thanking me? Which, in fact, did make her day. And, she wouldn’t dare challenge this once in a lifetime behavior - that’d be a quick way for that behavior to be stashed away, forever. Again, as soon as she entered, the atmosphere changed. 
It’s about damn time they understand the euphoric peacefulness they rouse for each other. And, today was one of the moments where Mr. Rager gives a slight glimpse of his life - the confounding ones that really led to nowhere. “I think my aversion to alcohol comes from the fact that I had kids with this chick, married this chick, bought a mansion for us to live in - and, only too late, realized that it was really the alcohol that talked.”
Ryujin’s heart sank, “what? You have kids?”
“Not anymore, don’t have custody over them anymore.” He was so unbothered, utterly unbothered.
“I’m sorry for asking, just curious—what happened to them?”
He chuckled, “No more personal questions after this, alright?”
She nodded, her beady eyes on full alert. The pillow that she borrowed from the hospital bed, on her lap. She was intently listening from the comfortable armchair. 
“I let her take the kids, she didn’t ask for alimony or anything like that—just that, on the condition that I don’t contact them ever again.” He stared at the ceiling, sorting some of it out, not sure if it was some traumatic experience. Nevertheless, he continued, “she found me unbearable after a while, and I found her unbearable as well. I was never there too: too busy with money. She probably didn’t chase after alimony because she already had a sweetheart - with money - to get back to.” With so much ease, as if he’d been through too many lifetimes - too many he can remember.
“Oh,” that’s it, that’s all the reaction she can give.
“Oh, what’s with that reaction?” He chuckled.
“I-I’msorryIdon’treallyknow-” she paused, “Hey! You’re being so annoying today.”
“Sometimes, a flipped script - like teaser gets teased - leads to masterpieces.”
“Any examples?”
“Nah, I just made it up.”
From then on, the conversations continued; the deep introspective pauses continued, listlessly; and both began to feel the drowsy effect of the combination of warm light and black-out curtains.
And a tired Mr. Rager loves beauty. 
“Ryujin.”
“Hm?” She looked back, staring at him with her doe eyes.
“You’re like marijuana.” One can say he has a way with words.
“What?” Her brows stitched in confusion.
“You’re fucking amazing to have around. But, I swore to never, nev-” He fell into a deep sleep, so contrary to his habits: he’s never fallen asleep with his own mind’s permission.
Her doe-like eyes opened farther open. Her heart began beating listlessly, skipping beats. I’ve got to leave, before I-. Yet she magneted closer to the bed, where Mr. Rager slept so peacefully. Did I do that? He’s always complaining about sleeping, yet- yet he slept so easily. She was making up all sorts of situations, scenarios, theories - none of them healthy for the mind.
And, before she knew it, under the bright moonlight radiating into the room, gentle shadows across his face, she leaned closer, letting her soft lips touch the peak of his cheekbone, causing shivers across her spine, and she thought fuck, fuck, I’m really doing it - and when that wasn’t enough - then his forehead, feeling the warmth radiating from his forehead on her lips. But no more, that’d be too much, too much.
Under her own shame, her bright flush cheeks, her dilated pupils, twin pools of dark moons: she quickly left the room, carrying all her stuff such that it’d be guaranteed to fall in the middle of the hallway, a real mess she made of herself.
CHAPTER II: 
Keep movin' forward, keep movin' forward
I'm so-I'm so reborn, I'm movin' forward
Along the way home, the realization washed over her like a molotov flame - its gentle but fiery shimmer covering the entirety of her body. And the way her heart pumped, any performative act she could do to stop it was useless - ultimately doing nothing, nada, zilch. The sound of his roaring laughter from her jokes, the curve of his smile, the messy stubble, god, she was really losing it inside the bus. Her every thought, motion, every constriction of her body - pulse and all - was consumed by him. Her legs rubbed together desperately, and the slightest, faintest moan left her quivering lips as she let her imagination go wild. 
And the fact that… that an elderly lady was behind her, judging her provocative movements, just nudged her on further - full on deviant shit.
As soon as she’d be home, she’d have a towel under her.
Fortunately, past the hospital departure, they wanted to see each other again - platonically. However, it’s been days, and though that may seem quite short, they’ve never been separated for more than 12 hours. 
And these days, these listlessly long days, let Ryujin know of her sympathetic entanglement, and, seemingly intensifying it. Ryujin, with her sore body, stared at Mr. Rager’s phone number on her phone - the curves of the numbers kept reminding her of everything she thought about days before (the curves of the numbers some dubious correlation with Mr. Rager). She’s about to do it again, two fingers, knuckle-deep, into her folds until she’s a drooling mess on the bed. She was already a mess to begin with, a crook in her neck, half her bed unmade, sleep-deprived.
That isn’t to say that Mr. Rager wasn’t just as affected. He never succumbed to the pleasure of the hand, but the dreams, the wistful dreams. Imagining her close smile against him, moaning soft and goading phrases right into his ear - melodiously erotic. Her soft palms against his broad back, pressing deep - trying her best to not scratch up his back. You’re fucking me so good, mm- she’s whimpering, right on your ear, fuck, shivers throughout. Then, halt. It’s the fucking alarm.
Both awake, going through their groggy morning routines to finally meet again. Would it be as magical as it was in the hospital? Would it ever be so calm?
The time to meet was approaching quickly. Ryujin got ready, her perfect face, judiciously given with all her perfect talents, was colored with minimal effort, any more and she’d show off her inexperience with makeup - Mr. Rager would’ve lost it all regardless. Because, she was dressed in this tight dress, the type of dress that a girl like her deserves, expensive, ornate, sexy; but, she was a special case, she’d never worn something so ornate and so revealing, and the mirror would reflect a little doe desperately pulling on the hems that revealed her taut thick thighs, the cusp of her petite bosom, and any effort to cover was an ultimately futile effort, this was something she had come to terms with, before leaving her small studio.
And, as if she were in a Wong-Kar Wai movie, she entered the bus: all glammed out in a shitty environment. And the nervous eyes in the bus quickly looked away, intimidated heavily; still, some passengers hoped that they could get a glimpse with the spasm of their pupils to her direction - that’s how good she looked.
She sat down mindfully, crossing her legs - alarmingly aware of the stares. Her face adopted a natural blush - a face too beautiful to hide. Her eyes, set beneath her delicately arched eyebrows, stared at the reflection of herself from the wide glass. She’d never be able to understand her own beauty, too often enveloped in imposter syndrome, and the only person, Mr. Rager, would be the one, who could tell her the beauty of her cascading black hair; her large eyes, accentuated by a deep-set gaze; the beauty with which she carried herself, awkward, yet enigmatically, always, the most beautiful person in the room.
Mr. Rager, gaunt from the opioids, still looked herculean, a fitful combination that fit any clothing piece. With an androgynous face that was covered with sharp eyebrows, dark under eyes, high cheek-bones, and a sort of asymmetrical face that was almost better than the conventional symmetry: in summary, he was someone you couldn’t miss. This inherited comeliness comes with its risks, from the ease of life to the women, things that Mr. Rager succumbed to in violent fashion. Other than that, his preparation was pretty rapid, hopping into his entirely dark-tinted - for obvious reasons - car and set off into the gentle night.
Ryujin landed at the closest bus point to the meeting point. Her dress was unsuited for the weather, and her body began going frigid under a chilly summer day. That’s until a black car, a mercedes s-class, stopped ahead of her. It was nothing to be worried about, she’d just pass by it, acting as if she didn’t see it. However, the figure that exited the car was all too familiar: Mr. Rager.
“Ryujin.” Mr. Rager took a look, scanning her body - making it all too obvious with his pupils - instantly realized why he’s been thinking constantly about her - she’s just the most beautiful person.
And Ryujin, the way her knees slightly folded from seeing Mr. Rager, a slight spasm in her joints - she really missed him. And her hands crossed together between her loins, her eyes opened slightly larger.
“Don’t be so nervous.” He chuckled, that chuckle, that deep chuckle - Ryujin could feel the heat in her core. “Come in, you still have a long way to go,” she gladly accepted, entering into the car: feeling the soft seats, the fragrance of the unusual smell of vanilla and sandalwood (in a car?), and the overwhelming luxury around her surroundings.
“Be sure to dial the temperature or dial whatever you need, I’m sure you were pretty cold outside.” Mr. Rager said, aware of how Ryujin is not one to engage in something without permission - only if he knew what she’d done, the moment before she left, that day. However as he talked, all Ryujin could respond with was a chuckle, she was too focused on how the sentence sounded, how his eyes placed on her face, and occasionally, how it landed on her chest. And that was just the pinnacle for her.
He couldn't stop his gaze, this fermentation of a pending calamity was bounding closer and closer, and thrilled both parties to no end - they couldn’t even hide their own temptations behind the screen of a platonic hang out. By the seconds, the passing seconds, they got bolder, he got bolder. He let his eyes wander far down, her creamy white legs, her meticulous maintenance of it all. And Ryujin was wallowing in it all, his sharp gaze made her feel warmer, wetter - enticing her to dial down the temperature, a contrast from when she was so cold outside.
Still, they’d say nothing, despite it all. The silent hum of the tire scraping against the asphalt was all the credence, the distraction, they were allowed. The rest was this endorphin-filled, endorphin-crazed environment where both of them knew that they were pushing too quickly, given the fact that this companionship began from a suicide attempt.
Still, there’s this slip of time, where they could, possibly, love each other. Though, before these exponential entropic forces caused all sorts of calamity, they arrived at the spot. This run-down complex, that hid a quaint restaurant with private rooms, was a source of nostalgia for Mr. Rager. Ryujin followed, climbing the stairs, ascending just behind him, pulling down on her dress, sticking her thighs together as she climbed (a natural precaution). The restaurant was exactly that, quaint. They entered one of the tight-fitting cubicles, where they sat across from each other, a small sitting-table separated their bodies - unfortunately.
“Don’t be too worried about this restaurant, it may be run down, but it’s a great experience.”
“Oh, no, no, I’m not worried about that, I frequent far more run down establishments than this.” As the words left her tongue, Ryujin cringed, frequent? What am I? A prostitute? Her eyebrows knitted.
“Relax Ryujin,” he chuckled, “enjoy yourself, I’ll pay for it all.”
“That’s the first step to the debt?” Ryujin grinned, loosening, gaining her natural confidence.
“Perhaps. Come on, go crazy.” There it is, that nice toothy grin, her cheeks ripple into some sort of whiskers - god, he’d do anything for that, again and again. 
The dishes came, oily dishes full of food, and Ryujin’s eyes glazed in excitement. After a brief, too quick, moment of eating, both of them leaned back - absolutely full.
“You got a bird’s stomach for your ambition, Ryujin.”
“And you’re a head taller than me, but you’re leaning as well!”
“Good point.” He chuckled, fighting indigestion through it.
“I don’t even like oily food.”
“Me too.”
This time, a collaborative laugh.
Mr. Rager paid the meager bill, leaving all the food to rot on the table - the plight of abundance.
“Anything you want to do today?” Mr. Rager asked, putting on his seatbelt.
“It’s really late, I really wanted to punish your wallet, you played your cards right going out so late..” Ryujin relaxed into the seat, fully comfortable, in-tune.
“Well, if you don’t have any plans. Mind if I go the reservation for us?”
“What reservation?”
“That’d ruin the surprise, Ryujin.” The ambient sound of the tires against the ground in combination with the dark night - the darkest night before morning - was an even more intense atmosphere.
This peaceful atmosphere, intense, yet peaceful, again, just like the hospital visits. This interesting continuation of happiness, so foreign to his life, was something that he could get used to. His forearm pressed against the storage compartment, letting his hand spill over; his other arm was loosely steering, as loose as the gentle dark night. 
As he trailed the road, occasional peeks at Ryujin showed her transition to sleep: drowsy eyelids that infrequently close for periods of time, then, longer periods, then, sleep. 
Who was this angel? This angel that wrought Mr. Rager all manners of hope, of happiness, of reflection. If he hadn’t been so stubborn about his affliction towards personal information, maybe, just maybe he’d understand her more, this girl - so beautifully clad in a flowery dress.
Is this love, this elusive feeling? How could it be so cruel? So cruel as to bring it to me at a time so random, and so heavily…
Again, he forgot his bad habit: speaking his thoughts out loud.
He realized too late, and he could feel her large eyes staring at him, confused. 
Yet, and yet, he felt the gentle warmth of another palm on his forearm - a reassuring grip.
“Min, I love you too.”
CHAPTER III: No Longer Mr. Rager
I want to kiss you on your space below your navalette
The place you keep so neat, so moist like a towelette
Ryujin, her beautifully beady eyes looked at you, as she lifted your forearm, planting little kisses all over it.
“Oh Ryujin.”
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that, Min.” A statement that left her lips as she continued worshiping his forearm.
Jesus, this woman.
He pulls into the closest parking spot, giving not a single fuck that there were a few cars there - all likely empty, anyway.
And, with all pretenses and courtesy removed, the forearm that was so judiciously worshiped, wrapped around her nape, pulling her into a searing kiss. That deep moan, that accepting moan as his mouth opened against hers. He almost forgot the most essential question - suddenly, slightly pulling away from the kiss.
“How’d you find out about my name, Ryujin?” Min asked.
“A woman doesn’t disclose her secrets, besides, how could my love not have a name?” Cheesy, feisty, what a woman.
“Good point.” Another searing kiss, dynamic, evolving, every step more depravedly romantic than the previous.
He was pretty sure that he’d break something, in the middle compartment, that separated you from total body connection. Again, you pull away, this time, it brought out a desperate whine out of her, her arms that wrapped desperately around you kept pulling you in - like a vortex.
She understood the memo as soon as he exited the car - love connection. This time, with a wider space, still constricted, was the best they could do, and they’d relish this extra space. Min, naturally assumed dominance over Ryujin, her body acclimated against his aggressive pulls and pushes - all for the pleasure of Ryujin, and she didn’t take it lightly, each breath heavy with the densest pleasure. Oh, oh, oh, keep manhandling me. She’d whisper. And he’d obey.
As Ryujin, with her tight dress, splayed against the seats on her back, took initiative to take off Min’s clothes, button-by-button. “Oh I’ll fuck you so good, Ryujin, so fucking good.” He’d repeat, over and over, and Ryujin would get more aroused by each iteration: “Yes, yes! Please.” Occasional soft bites were felt all over his collarbone, his neck, his earlobe. “Possessive little bird, I’m not going anywhere.” He caressed her head, making sure that he’d also mark her, a heavy hickey on her neck.
And Ryujin fucking loves it, she softly caresses him, soft grasps against his back, locking her taut legs around him, begging for continuations. And, Min would obey, in his own rebellious way, tightly grabbing her breasts - hidden behind the dress - then pressing kisses all over her neck, nearly all of them hickeys. 
“Fuck the reservation,” he grunted, it was an expensive reservation, but he doesn’t give a fuck: Ryujin’s right under him, begging for him to ravage her taut body. And she replies, “That’s right, that’s right, mister, master!” The end of her sentence was capitalized by Min’s heavy grasp on her breasts.
“That’s right, little bird.” Low grunts against her ears, his thick shaft, covered, grinded against her body, while his mouth assaulted hers.
And she cums, her head turns up, looking wherever - straining her neck - to release her pleasure. “Ngghhh!!!” A heavy whine, so enthusiastically human, straining against the seats that held her back. “Holy shit! That was so amazin-” enough talking, he’d motion, locking mouths together.
Silent moans, “mmmf..” hummed against his tongue, Ryujin was so turned on, and he’d love to fulfill all her wishes. Each rotation of his hip against hers were accentuated by Ryujin’s deep moan, squeaky moans, the moans that she couldn’t hide by covering her mouth. His hand, fixed onto her breasts, finally ventured below, feeling her lithe abdomen - the slightest abs - then letting his hand rest on her pelvis, just above her pussy. 
He finally released himself from the hypnotizing kiss, staring at her body - mostly still covered by the dress: now, that, won’t do. He pulled on the bottom hem of her dress, revealing her wet core, an embarrassed squeak along with it all. “You’re so fucking hot, Jesus,” he had a taste of what her body looked like, and he just can’t get enough. All precaution thrown out the window, the expensive dress was about to be ruined, and Ryujin - ever resourceful - seemed to allow it. He pulled the upper hem of the dress down, breaking the straps that could’ve been removed easily - this is a statement, I own you - Ryujin seemed to get the memo - all beady and begging.
Her soft breasts, creamy, smooth, with pink nubs spilled out from the tight dress. He pressed both his hands, all over her body, exploring the transitions from her taut skin to the scrunched dress, making sure to remember every facet of it all. “How badly do you want it?” He whispered, wholly focused on her body, subtly noticing her wet core, the outline of her pussy growing clearer by the second. And Ryujin didn’t even have to answer the question, locking her legs around his waist, frantically trying to get her hips on his covered shaft - yeah, she’s fiending for it.
And Min, ever the indulgent, gently moved and hovered his hand over her neck, waiting for that confirmation, that wink, that nod - and, Ryujin, calming down from the intense pleasure, nodded. That first grasp, tight, measuring her tolerance, measuring just the moment when the eyes go back to her eyes - and he seemed to completely pinpoint it, that slight spasm of her body, and her inner thighs are just soaked.
Finally, Min decided it’s time to give her sopping cunt some attention. Peeling the layer to the side, wet with the highest arousal, hid her bright pink core - and it, her core, was begging to be sated, pulsing, glistening, beautifully fragrant.
Firstly, he let a single finger prod, then entered. And Ryujin was already shaking, her eyes went straight to the back of her head, and her neck vascularized - all veiny - from the soft choke. It would’ve been too cruel to give her too much pleasure, so he took his hand off her throat, instead, patting her head - letting her know that she's doing so good, so good. 
In and out, motion of the ocean, slick covering his finger the deeper he went, earning the most virile moans out of her cute mouth. “You like that, huh?” He dug deeper, until his knuckle - a loud moan. She had never felt anything like this, her two fingers could never compare, and she’s a virgin after all, and she’s about to get deflowered in the backseat of a car - and, she loves it. 
In a swift motion, where Min continued his manhandling of Ryujin, he pulled his finger out - in a hook motion to agitate her g-spot, earning a girlish yelp - then, let Ryujin taste her own juices on his finger.
“You’re doing so good.” Min whispered, so overly joyed by Ryujin, how her petite body convulsed in pleasures beyond what he could ever imagine.
“I know.” Ryujin replied, defiant to the end. She knew exactly how this inspired him to be rougher - and she loves it. He gripped her waist, gripping harder, letting her firm abdomen mold against his grip, dug deeper into her cunt, placing his thumb over her engorged clit. One. Two. Three motions around her clit, three motions of his finger into her cunt - before she squirted onto the side window, far more girlish yelps, and desperate panting. This time, Min with his wet hand, spread it all over Ryujin’s face - the essence of her arousal, via his hand, spread on her face, where makeup was placed so thoughtfully, only to be ruined by her own squirt. She’s panting amidst all this, unable to process anymore than her overwhelming second orgasm. 
“You’re a fucking mess, Ryujin, cumming this quickly?”
“You made me this way…” She huffed, “you fucking brute.”
This time, all Min does is press against her pelvis - specifically, the pelvic bone, where just below is her g-spot, and the slight pressure, was absolutely deadly. All the while, he declared, “That’s right, little bird. I’ll press you against the seat, face-down, slam into your ass with all the force I can muster - then, when I’m deep, too deep, cervix-level deep, I’ll release all my cum into your precious little womb.”
“Nghhh~~!” And another squirt, where her legs closed together, toes curled, and her head hung back. While Ryujin was trying to recover, Min placed a quick and wet kiss on her lips, but that'd be the only romanticism that Min allowed her. Quickly, he let her sit up, pulling her by her thin wrists. Then, he pulled down his own pants - letting his shaft free from the restraints of his tight clothing, the painful onset of an early blue balls in its conception, that was only fuel to the fire to fuck Ryujin good, and hard.
“Sit on my lap facing me, Ryujin.” He demanded. And no matter how much Ryujin came, squirted, panted, and yelped - she’d always oblige in Min’s demands. She quickly hooked her other leg over him, in a hovered position rather than sitting. This time, he passed his fingers through her wet hair, letting it pass behind her ear, “safe word is Mimetic,” and he earned a soft nod from Ryujin, and consent to batter her sopping, wet, sticky, engorged pussy.
He slithered a hand around her waist, holding her in place; then, placed his other hand around her neck, just on the nape. He pulled her in for one last kiss. The last bit of eye contact before penetration, and all that could be seen in Ryujin’s eyes - beady and all wet from pleasure - was a fiending desire to be fucked silly.
Slowly, he let her descend, right up until his tip kissed her wet folds. She winced from her sensitivity, just from the touch. And that’s when it flashed in her eyes, she wasn’t sure if she was ready, given the fact that she hadn’t told him about her virginity. Before she could realize her thoughts through speech, she felt the intense heat of something foreign entering - something so thick and large - and it wrought every emergency signal in her brain - all of them, positive. “Oh–OH, fuck…” is all that Ryujin squeaked out before he pushed in deeper, feeling her gentle pussy wrap around his shaft - all wet and moist. A constant sizzling whisper could be heard from Ryujin as he buried his cock deeper, until, halfway in, where she let out a deep moan. “Holy fuck,” she moaned again, deeper. Holy fuck is right, her body was so resistant, tight right at the start to the end, yet, the way it also sucked his shaft into its wet folds - Min was already addicted.
“Ryujin, you’re so tight.” He said as he kept nudging Ryujin to move farther down, waiting for her glistening pussy to completely wrap around his shaft - then, eventually, completely devour her in the backseats of his own car. Yet, as he went through it with her, he began clueing in on the note - Ryujin is very.. Too sensitive. Why Ryujin focused on getting herself down, skewering herself on his length - desperately breathing, her chest dilating in and out. Through it all, as Ryujin tried to, adorably, hide her inexperience, Min pressed a compassionate kiss right into her mouth. 
“I love that. The fact that you’re so horny for a virgin.” He whispered against her mouth, breathing hotly, immeasurably hard.
And Ryujin needn’t respond at all, all she needed to do - well, did - was reach out with her tongue for his mouth, with those prey eyes, begging to be taken, testing her fickle fate - a sign that he needed to kiss her, devour her, again and again until hell freezes over. And finally, during the desperate haze of a reunification of mouths, he finally buried himself straight to the hilt, in her pink, glistening, sopping, beautiful core. And slowly, the wet sounds of sex, so blatantly loud in this claustrophobic environment, reverberated inside the car; the wet sounds of her moans covered this hazy atmosphere, coming from her lips that detached from his mouth, streaks of saliva still connecting them both; and that feeling, this mutual feeling of utter bliss, how her back bent - contorted - into every pump.
They couldn’t stop staring at each other, two perverts, two soulmates who couldn’t go for a second without looking at each other. Even when Min pushed up harder, letting his full length pass through her virginal hole, they still maintained that sensual eye contact - that essential eye contact.
“You fuck me so good, Min.” Ryujin said as her two small breasts jolted from every pump, every contraction of his length leaving her one step closer to ruin - until her eyes went back to that dangerous place, that orgasm line. And the resulting pressure, that heavenly pressure, pressed against his shaft so strongly, that his tight-lipped mouth let out a few growls of pleasure, a sign that he’s close to painting her womb in baby batter. 
Ryujin, ever the caretaker, felt the convulsions, and began pressing desperate kisses over his face - anywhere she could reach, whilst patting him on the back. And Min would never admit he liked it, that he loved it, and he didn’t need to admit it, Ryujin already knew. 
And she knew exactly, that this was the final straw that she needed to break before she was filled with his essence, the catalyst of that final convulsion. Min immediately seized, grabbing Ryujin in a bearhug - one that could’ve bruised her - and pumped hard, that final wet sound of sex, before, rope after rope of release entered deep inside her, splashing against her cervix, filling her womb.
“FUCKKK!!” He growled, he hadn’t felt this good since ever. And the same for Ryujin, who cried a leaky yelp, where her last bits of squirt flowed down the slightest nook from their love connection. They were static for a moment, relishing in the deviant copulation they engaged in, where, almost, the condensation of their lovemaking was visible in the air of the car.
“I love you.” She kissed him again, staring all lovey-dovey, as if her pupils had gone and turned into hearts.
“I love you.” He stared at her, happy, smiling.
“I love you more.” She added, exaggerating her laugh, trying to tease.
“I concede.” He replied.
“Heyyy! You’re supposed to say it back!” “I’m more for physical demonstrations. Wanna see?”
“Uh no. Please. It feels like it's about to fall off.” She was mentioning her pussy, all swollen and gummy to the eye.
“I love it, it’s so beautiful.” He replied, fully serious, digging his mouth into her neck, he was absolutely crazy about her.
“Min, I gotta take a shower, you’re being gross-” that’s when Min pressed a finger onto her - still engorged - clit, and proceeded to say, “I’m fucking crazy about you.” 
“Ngh! Stop! Seriously, it’s about to fall off.” Unfortunately, the collected accumulation of their love juices swiftly dripped down as Ryujin jolted back from him touching her clit.
“Isn’t this gonna stain your car until the end of time?” She stared at the significant puddle of who knows what.
“Let it. A commemoration of our intense copulation.”
Ryujin blushed, quickly grabbing the tissues that Min offered her, and wiping off all that she released, her entire lower half, essentially, was wet. And Min got aroused from watching Ryujin cleaning herself - her little winces when she slightly grazed her cunt only adding fuel to the fire. “Clean my cock.” Min demanded, but when Ryujin grabbed the tissues - ready to oblige - he replied, “with your mouth.”
To be continued...
Ahhh, I love cliffhangers. Enjoy waiting for 10 months! (just kidding!)
Honestly, I wanted to take months with this project, but I just can't seem to stop myself (from writing mid stuff).
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ozzgin · 2 months ago
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For October, may I ask for more Xenomorph content from you? I adore all of your work from your writing to your drawings, and it would make this silly little worm squiggly with joy - and maybe a bit of something else, if you catch my drift... -
Much love and smooches! 🪱
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Xenomorph Queen x Reader x Xenomorph Hive
In which you're kept as a toy by the Queen and passed around by the rest of the Hive. They know you're Ripley's descendant. They'll take their time with you. content: gender neutral reader, NSFW, based on Alien: Isolation
All you wanted was closure.
That's why you hounded every lead, every hint, every possibility. That's why you ended up on Sevastopol, crawling your way through rotten remains of androids and abandoned labs. That's why you got caught.
You thought you'd end up like the others. When the Xenomorph Warrior brought you to the nest, you caught glimpses of the facehugger carcasses, and the people who served as incubators. Their chests were split open, bloated and obscene. Your lips pursed in a grimace as you awaited your fate.
Unexpectedly, you were dragged along, further into the labyrinth of slime and bone. Until, at last, you were facing the Queen herself. You could immediately tell: she was enormous compared to the other aliens. The servants scurried away, abruptly dropping you like some sort of offering for the curious Beast.
One glance, and she knew. She could see it in your defiant scowl, a certain familiarity that immediately filled her with amusement and excitement. You were related to Ripley.
At first, she just observed you as some sort of peculiarity. Truth be told, she never truly learned much about humans outside of the brief incubation period. Then it happened: it seemed that touching you in certain ways aroused you terribly. You were visibly embarrassed by your reaction, biting your lip, covering your face, or trying to look away in order to hide the deep red blush rapidly spreading across your features. The Xenomorph Queen was intrigued.
For the most part, she enjoys toying with you. You're her little plaything, and she won't stop until you're all hot and bothered. Then she'll leave you to the hive. Often, she will watch as her Warriors and Drones pass you around greedily, having their way with you before another one hisses for a turn. Rarely she'll demand her share, mildly envious of the shameless whimpers rolling out of your mouth from being ravaged by one of her underlings.
See, she doesn't mind the others fucking you. She hates it, however, when you're enjoying yourself more under their savage hands. No one does it better than the Queen.
To think she'd be this possessive towards her new human belonging.
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[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist] | [Horror Masterlist]
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mindmelter · 2 months ago
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Up To The Brain Floor
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As a security officer at a high-end hotel, I spent most of my time sitting in the control room, eyes on the security monitors. The job seemed straightforward, but I had a secret duty too. My employers, so to speak, were an alien species in search of human hosts—and I was there to help them find the perfect bodies.
Like right now, I watched this hot tattooed hunk walk in the elevator, the man was stunningly hot.
The aliens were kind enough to let me pick the host bodies based on my judgment, and this hunk was just perfect host material. I smirked as I pressed a key on the keyboard.
The man didn't notice, but a small hatch opened on the lower part of the wall of the elevator, and a small alien slime crawled out of it. The hunk continued waiting, assuming he was on his way to the parking lot. But the elevator wasn’t going anywhere—I’d frozen it mid-floor the moment he stepped inside.
I would only make the elevator work again once the alien had done his job. I unzipped my pants and fished out my cock, I just love this part so much, I thought as I stroked my hard cock. I spotted the slime crawling on the man's shoulder, and then it jumped straight into his ear.
The man flinched, instinctively jabbing a finger into his ear, but it was too late. The creature was already worming its way to his brain.
His body suddenly jerked, slamming against the elevator walls as he struggled to remain standing. He threw his head back, his eyes were rolled back and his face twisted in a silent scream. My own breathing quickened, my hand moving faster on my shaft as I watched the scene, it was like watching porn to me. The man fell to the floor, convulsing as the alien took control.
After several minutes, the man slowly began to rise, as if testing his own limbs. He turned to the mirror, lifting his shirt to reveal those hard abs and massive pecs, running a hand over them like he was seeing himself for the very first time.
Then, he looked straight into the security camera, locking eyes with me through the screen. The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin. He suddenly tugged his waistband down, just enough to free his impressive cock, smirking at the camera as he gave his shaft a few strokes.
With one nod, he signaled he was ready. I pressed a button, and the elevator started working again. I watched the hunk put his cock back into his pants and fix his hair in the mirror. The door finally opened, and he stepped out as if nothing had happened.
I was the only person who knew the truth. I knew he wasn't the same man who had entered that elevator. That man was long gone and an alien was now in control, and I had the video of the moment it happened saved on my computer.
I looked down at my hands and saw they were covered in cum. For that occasion, I already had a tissue box on the table. After cleaning my hand, I titled the footage "The Tatted Hunk" and added it to a folder filled with other videos.
Alongside it, I had "The Jersey-Bound Jock," "The Fresh-Faced Gym Rat," "The Burly Man With A Beard," and "The Blond Stud In A Suit" Each one showed the exact moment they ceased to be human to become a host, and now, I had "The Tatted Hunk" added to my collection.
I just can't wait for the next hunk to walk into the elevator.
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hemipenal-system · 2 months ago
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cute little abandoned fursuit that seems like it’s in really good condition for having just been left outside. you take it and get it all cleaned up and put it on and take some pictures, and it’s really nice.
the problem is when you go to take it off you can’t. the zipper is just gone and there isn’t a split between the head and the body anymore, and then the eyes flick closed, leaving you in darkness.
something wet squelches against your ear. wet, and warm.
it leaves a little trail of slime as it curls over the top of your ear and up your earlobe before pressing in. you try to yank the head off but the suit won’t even let you move your arms.
there’s another one on your other ear, wriggling and squirming into your ear canal before they both idly start to thrust in and out, each deep plunge coating your ear in whatever hot liquid they’re secreting.
there’s a firm pressure between your legs. another one, but wide, so wide it spreads your thighs as it grinds up into you before changing tactics and curling upward before dipping through your waistband. it teases your surprisingly needy hole for all too long before plunging in all at once, and when you whimper involuntarily, another one shoots down your mouth and into your throat so fast you can’t stop it.
there’s a different moan, and it takes you a minute to realize it’s the suit itself. you’re moving now, forced to walk as she crosses the house, going to your bedroom.
when she lays down on the bed, a seam splits open between her legs, and when she starts rubbing it you feel it like it’s your own, whining in tandem as your hips buck upwards together
you have no idea how long she keeps you there inside herself, trapped in the pitch black with her tendrils ravaging your ears, throat, and ass, but you both cum so many times you lose count, and she fills you every time until you eventually pass out
you wake up tucked into your bed with a lipstick mark on one cheek and a pawprint on your hand. the fursuit is nowhere to be seen
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angel-of-the-moons · 2 months ago
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I'd adore seeing something with Eddie and Venom being your big fuck off bodyguards at the Halloween party, bonus points if the costume is just venom!
Spooky Scary... Slime-Monsters?
Eddie x Venom x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: None!!
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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They met you in an alley, one night. The rich inheritor to some firm or another, cornered by a bunch of no-good (tasty) thugs.
Contrary to most people, you didn't run when Venom beat the shit out of, and promptly ate the heads off of your assailants. You were... Surprisingly open-minded? Eddie found that Venom liked you, and he'd be lying if your understanding of their situation wasn't refreshing. It was nice having someone other than his ex, or Ms. Chen to talk to about this sort of thing.
But when you hit them up to be a bodyguard to a freakin' Halloween party, of all places? He was hesitant, at first. But rent and groceries were kind of expensive... And you were offering quite a bit.
So, they took the offer. They met you, once again, in an alley.
The ground shook softly as Venom landed nearby. His maw stretched into an eerie grin as you gasped in shock before realizing just who it was.
"Oh! You're here!" You sighed with a relived smile, adjusting the little witch hat on your head, "I was starting to get worried."
"Yes, well... we wanted a snack so we grabbed some... fast-food on the way in." Venom replied with his deep, rumbly voice.
"Please tell me you cleaned up before you came here." You replied, scrunching your nose rather cutely.
"Of course, we aren't savages." Venom snorted, crossing his arms over his broad chest and staring down at you; almost offended you would suggest he wouldn't clean himself of the evidence.
"Oh... Well, good." You said in reply, "Did you guys pick out a costume?"
Venom frowned--pouted, really, before rocking his head from side to side. "Eddie said costumes are dumb."
The way he stretched out the last word reminded you of a petulant child mocking their parent, and it made you smile.
"So... I guess you're going as you?" You suggested.
Venom's opalescent eyes widened for a moment, like he hadn't thought of that. As he opened his mouth, a part of his face peeled back and Eddie's own face appeared; and he did not look thrilled.
"No--"
"Yes!"
You couldn't help the giggle that came from your lips as they argued back and forth. But eventually, the symbiote wins out in the end.
And so, that's how you walk into the club, arm-in-arm with Venom.
It shocked people, to say the least, but in some cases, when people got too close, Eddie and Venom were great at pretending he was some sort of expensive, animatronic suit. A few people even stopped for some photos!
The party was a droll thing at first, slow and boring, even for a rented nightclub. But a lot of these people were friend of your parents--very few really knew how to actually have fun. Even the younger people they paid to be with for the evening seemed bored out of their skulls.
That was, until Venom had hopped on stage. He had managed to load the DJ performing into playing something a little more lively--to "get the blood pumping". Apparently, nobody but you got the morbid joke.
His ploy worked, and people began to go down to the dance floor. Well... the ones young enough to avoid breaking a hip, anyways. The older ones complained about the music tastes, but your parents, the hosts of the party, clapped Venom on the shoulder and thanked him for saving the evening.
As you all sat down to enjoy cocktails, you explained that you'd hired him as your bodyguard. When asked what had happened to your primary one, you explained that after he left you alone long enough to get robbed the night you first met Venom, you decided it was a good change of pace and protection. Your parents wholeheartedly agreed.
However, neither of you were prepared for when your dad shook Venom's hand and asked the dreaded question:
"So... Are you interested in dating our daughter?"
You wanted to die on the spot.
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bestanimal · 4 months ago
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Round 1 - Phylum Onychophora
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(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)
Onychophora is a phylum of long, soft-bodied, many-legged animals. They are commonly called Velvet Worms due to their velvety texture, and the human propensity for calling any small animal with a long body a worm. Onychophora is the only animal phylum in which every extant (non-extinct) member is fully terrestrial.
Onychophorans are predators, preying on other invertebrates which they catch by spraying an adhesive, glue-like slime. This slime can also be used to deter predators. They will target slime at the limbs of their prey, and have even been observed targeting the fangs of spiders. The slime is stretchy, with high tensile strength, and forms a net-like structure when sprayed. It takes about 24 days to replenish an exhausted slime repository, so they will eat their dried slime when they can.
Onychophoran legs are called oncopods, lobopods, or “stub feet”. They can have from 13 to as many as 43 pairs of feet, depending on species. Their legs are hollow and have no joints, instead being moved by the hydrostatic pressure of their fluid contents. Each foot has a pair of tiny chitin claws which they use to gain their footing on uneven terrain. They sense the world via a pair of antennae, the numerous papillae covering their bodies, and a pair of simple eyes, though there are some blind species. Their mouth is surrounded by sensitive lips, and their chitin jaws, used for chewing up prey, look similar to their claws. On either side of their mouth are the oral papillae, openings containing their slime glands. Unlike their relatives, the tardigrades and arthropods, they do not have a rigid exoskeleton, restricting them to habitats with high humidity. They are also nocturnal hunters, and shy away from light, leading them to be most active on rainy nights. Onychophorans have two sexes. Females are usually larger than males, and sometimes have more legs. In most species the males will secrete a pheromone from their many “armpits” to attract females. Mating procedures differ between species. Some species are live-bearing, and some are egg-laying. The oldest known fossil Onychophoran, Antennipatus, is known from the Late Carboniferous.
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Propaganda under the cut:
The little orange guy in my avatar is a velvet worm!
Some species can spray their slime up to a foot away, though their accuracy gets worse with distance.
Apparently, velvet worm slime tastes "slightly bitter and at the same time somewhat astringent.” Don’t ask how biologists know that.
It is hard to evaluate all velvet worms due to their nocturnal nature and low population densities, but of the few species that have been evaluated, all are near threatened to critically endangered. Main threats come from habitat loss due to industrialisation, draining of wetlands, and slash-and-burn agriculture. Many species naturally have low population densities and small geographic ranges, so a small disturbance of ecosystem can lead to the extinction of entire species. Populations are also threatened by collection for universities or research institutes.
While most countries offer little to no protection for their velvet worms, Tasmania is unique for having its own velvet worm conservation plan and one region of forest dedicated to preserving the endangered Blind Velvet Worm, Leucopatus anophthalmus (seen in the 3rd image).
Onychophoran’s stub feet allow them to be sneaky ambush predators which hunt only at night. They move slowly and quietly, with their body raised off the ground. They only use their claws when needed for climbing, otherwise they walk softly on the pads of their feet. They are often able to get so close to their prey that they can gently touch them with their antennae to assess their size and nutritional value before the prey is alerted.
Onychophorans have small but complex brains, and are thus capable of sophisticated social interaction. Some species live and hunt in packs, acting in aggression and territoriality towards velvet worms not in their own group. After a kill, the dominant female always feeds first, followed in turn by the other females, then males, then the young. High-ranking individuals will chase and bite subordinates who climb on them, but will allow juveniles to climb on their backs without aggression.
Somft
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alienpossession · 2 months ago
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This is the original post by @mindmelter
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I think the tatted hunk knew how much I went nuts for him because he literally brought a friend along just a couple hours after the alien slithered into him with my help. This friend is similarly built with the tatted hunk (dare I say bigger) and he seemed to be more of a rugged, non-Caucasian version
This friend's takeover only happened hours after they walked out from the elevator and do God knows what in the tatted hunk's room. This time, the friend entered the elevator all alone as the time shown that it's almost sunrise. Judging from his look, he seemed to be heading to the gym and clearly they fucked the night before. I press the button to release yet another alien, and he seems to be too deep in his own thinking until it's too late as the alien already shot itself to his ear when he realized from his peripheral vision that something is lurking near him. He thrashed around wildly, a common occurence I already used to see for the past few months which indicate that the alien is on the process of covering the entirety of the human brain with its slimy self, and I obviously fished out my cock from my uniform while enjoying the sight.
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After all the usual moves of physique check coupled with a quick self-worship, the alien then surprised me with his request
"Open up the access to your office, human. I want to meet you directly,"
"Okay, why?"
"We didn't employ you to ask question, human. Just do it,"
I have zero idea what is up with this particular one, but if it's like the encounter that happened during the early weeks I started this whole arrangement with them, well I expect him to fuck the shit out of my mouth, which I don't really mind if I have to be honest, but judging from the time, this is quite a risky move as the next shift is about to start in 40 minutes.
But I eventually let him walk into the control room since I'm not going to mess around with a slimy extraterrestrial being that can make my brain obsolete and practically turned me into a meat puppet. Once inside, he told me to open up the folder filled with all the video I have of all the takeover. I gulped before asking him
"Why?"
"How many times do I need to remind you that we don't employ you to ask questions, human. Just open the folder," As I double-click the folder and revealed the 68 videos of the takeover, he grinned at me
"Let's make video 69, shall we?" He double-clicked the video titled "The Three Musk-eeters" which I vividly remembered to showcase three gym junkie that just finished their late preparation for some sort of worldwide bodybuilding competition taken over by one slime that managed to split itself into 3 and made the three into a closely-coordinated unit that operates in group.
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The video played while the tatted hunk draped his muscular arm over my shoulder and rested his chin on top of my head while his hand fondled my cock. "Sir, why are we doing this now? This is almost the end of my shift, what if the next shift walks in to us doing all this?"
"Well, you can always use a helping hand, don't you think? Oh fuck, look at them going at the blond's dick, how long you held that elevator LOL?"
"T---ten minaaaggghh---minutes,"
"Seems like you won't last that long if I keep this up, next video!" He stopped jacking off my cock, but not before he tugged at it very quickly I started to leak pre. Then, with that slick sweaty and slightly coated hands of his, he handily used the mouse to click on another video randomly. It opens the one titled "Gun-totting Russian" as he then moved away from his previous position and instead kneeling to then expertly swallowed the entirety of my 5.5 incher hardening cock.
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All the crazy head action happened while my eyes fixated on the screen that shows how the big Russian dude, Maksim, managed to grab the slime and tossed it right before it shot itself to his ear canal. Then, he swiftly shot at the slime and split it into two, thinking that he just killed some sort of weird abomination or something. He then squatted, his big mistake, to check on what kind of shit that just attacked him but before he could thoroughly check it, the two slimes leapt from the floor right to his mouth and ear. He screamed to no avail as he flailed on the floor, all 240 pounds of his muscle jerked uncontrollably as the alien started its violent takeover of his massive body. The video successfully pushed my cock to reach its full mast at almost 6 inches and I can feel that I'm so close to shoot my load before the tatted dude stop the head action
"Ohhh.......judging from the file name and the sound made, it must be Maksim Alimov," he said to me while still placing himself in between my legs with his mouth hovering right in front of my cock and his nose exhaling warm air right to my tip, "Big catch, don't you think? Probably the most notorious one among the other 68. Must be crazy hot to think that such a ruthless mob boss on the run like Alimov there is merely a dumb muscle puppet *slow lick around my tip* controlled by my kind, all thanks to a lowly security *gentle flick of his tongue right on my piss slit* like you," he finished his sentence right when I eventually shoot the warm geyser all over his face.
He chuckled at the sudden eruption and in a shocking display of his puppet's physical advantage, his long tongue cleanly lapped the surrounding of his lips, chin and even the tip of his pointy nose. He then grabbed my day-old underwear and use it as if it's some kind of cloth to clean the rest of his face before tossing it back to me
"Well, that's video 69 for ya. No takeover but I bet it will be your favorite from now on because why on Earth a straight, macho tatted hunk like me willingly kneel and then eat your cum unless I'm just a brainless human with no free will whatsoever, right?"
I nodded in embarassment as his statement managed to make my softening cock hardened once more
"Fuck, you're one horny guy. Hmm too bad it's 5:47 now, clean yourself up quickly before your shift replacement comes. I'll see you later and keep up the good work, security man," he said as he quickly dashed out to the parking lot, probably roleplaying as the tatted hunk driving his sports car to do his morning gym routine.
As I finished dressing up, saving the recording of this very room from the time he came until he left just now and replaced it with fake recording of me just sat in silence, the time on the screen shows 5:52, and a fit-looking daddy just entered the elevator to come down for his breakfast.
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Noting the usual time needed for takeover and how my friend Juan usually came a bit late around 6:03 to 6:05, I pressed the button to recruit this daddy to the collective. I'm this close to press the button once the daddy walked out from the elevator to have his breakfast in the hotel restaurant and a shirtless buzz blond stud walked into the elevator. But, it's 5:58 and I'm not about to risk Juan to witness what I'm up to, so I just sighed and prepare myself to leave for the day. Next time you'll not be so lucky, stud.
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