#xenomorph x male reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tropes-and-tales · 1 month ago

Text

The Enemy of My Enemy

(The Predator/Yautja x F!Reader)

CW: Violence; smut (monsterf*cking; fingering; PiV, unprotected). 18+ only.

Word Count: 9889

AN: This was originally requested by an anonymous person!

The distress call is what bring Mah’tu to Earth: a Yautja ship infested with a single xenomorph that escapes its cell to wreak havoc before the ship crashes onto the planet of the oomans. Mah’tu, in a nearby star system, is the closest to handle it.

Thank the gods he has the foresight to call for aid. A single xenomorph on a planet full of soft, weak creatures…it turns into an infestation almost immediately. Mah’tu is grateful the Yautja ship at least crashed in a small ooman settlement

Still, the small settlement is overrun quickly. Mah’tu finds himself outnumbered, outgunned, overpowered. He sees some oomans as he fights: they scurry around, they try to run. Few manage to escape before they are slaughtered. He pays them no mind. They are a weak species and only worthy prey because of their inventiveness, but these oomans are panicky and stupid with fear, and easy prey for the serpents.

He finds himself cornered in a large building. He hears the faint crackle in his comms of other Yautja as they approach Earth, but he himself is lost: he’s trapped with two of the xenomorphs, and he dispatches one easily, but the second stabs him with its barbed tail, sprays acid blood, and Mah’tu falls.

The Yautja are strong, durable. They heal quickly, and neither of these injuries would be fatal, but he feels his vision edging in black, and he knows once he’s unconscious, the serpent will kill him.

Mah’tu is a noble warrior. He was Blooded young. His bloodline is ancient, and he’s sired many Yautja that will live on beyond him, so he does not mourn his own lost life as he slips out of consciousness. At least he won’t feel the blow, though there’s little honor in that sentiment.

It surprises him, then, when he doesn’t die. When he instead wakes up, comes to, and finds a ooman—small, trembling—crouched beside him.

No, not beside him. Not exactly. The ooman is crouched between Mah’tu and the second xenomorph. It lies dead and twitching as it oozes its acidic blood from where the ooman has impaled it with a metal pole through its long skull.

The ooman is a female of the species, even smaller than the males, and Mah’tu sits up with a grumble and takes in the measure of his savior. A small thing, filthy. Stinking of fear and sweat and the rich metallic tang of ooman blood and the acrid, biting odor of serpent blood. Trembling as she turns and stares at him, her too-wide ooman eyes studying him warily.

How did something so small and cringing manage to kill a serpent, and with a piece of scrap metal, no less? Mah’tu had seen better trained, better armored Yautja fall to serpents, and yet…

He knows what it means to kill one of the kiande amedha. The Yautja revere them as the ultimate prey, and to kill one is a feat to be celebrated.

He does it with little thought: the ceremony is ingrained in him, as it is ingrained in all of his kind. To kill a kiande amedha means the ooman is Blooded by Yautja culture, so Mah’tu reaches down and drags a claw through the pooling acid blood of the serpent. Then he reaches out to the ooman, who flinches away from him, makes a whimper of fear. But he reaches out his other hand to grasp the filthy face. He holds her still and traces a small mark onto her forehead that makes her cry out at the sting of the blood as it scars her.

He marks the ooman—you—as Blooded. In Yautja culture, it means you are an adult, capable of Hunting alone. But more than that, it marks you as a full member of the clan, and given the strange circumstances of this moment—Earth, a xenomorph infestation—he marks you as his clan.

When the crackle comes through his comms that his fellow Yautja have arrived, that the military oomans of this sector have loosed a missile of some sort to level this infestation, Mah’tu again acts with little thought. This is ingrained in him too: marked as his clan now, he grabs your wrist, tugs you to the roof of the building, and narrowly escapes with you before your settlement is leveled by your government.

He realizes what he’s done once the ship is safely away from your star system. He’s marked you as Blooded, as his clan, which means you’re his responsibility now.

-----

A famous ooman once wrote that the course of true love never did run smooth. Mah’tu, without the benefit of any sort of literature course in his Yautja education, never heard the quote, but it doesn’t make it untrue.

Who would have thought the cringing little ooman would be so relentlessly furious at him, once the fact of her situation became clear to her?

Reason must flee your little skull. There is nowhere for you to go unless out of the airlock into the void of space, yet you fight him.

Or you try to.

The first night you attack him, Mah’tu is taken unawares. Why would he ever think you’d try? He’s sitting in the pilot’s seat of his ship when the sensitive appendages on his head alert him to someone behind him, but not quickly enough: there’s a dull bloom of pain in his shoulder, and it comes accompanied by you yelling some ooman word he does not understand.

He turns in his seat and appraises you. He takes in the fury on your face, as it cedes to confusion, then dejection.

From the meat of his shoulder, a small shank of metal is half-buried. He pulls it out, the pain minuscule, the cut already mending. He examines the weapon, a pathetic thing that you’ve found and tried to shape into something that could kill him.

It makes him chuckle, which sounds like a trilling to you. Then he stands, takes your arm in his paw, and drags you back to the storage area he cleaned out to house you.

“Stay,” he orders you, and he locks you in anyway. He cannot know how you bristle to be ordered about as you would order a dog.

The second time you attack him? You’ve loosened the bolts on a seat in the cockpit. You must have been at it for hours at a time, working your feet against the fastenings while you slouched beside him and stuck the fleshy part of your mouth out in a pout. Mah’tu bends in his seat to recalibrate a certain piece of equipment, and a moment later, the loosened chair smashes against his skull.

The chair breaks into several pieces. His skull doesn’t break at all.

“God fucking dammit,” you breathe out as he straightens out, stands to his full height.

He locks you in again, and as he drags you to your quarters, you try to punch him. Your little fists aim for his face, his eyes, his throat, and they glance off of him with no effect. You land a punch to his mouth and it cuts your hand. Mah’tu smells the metallic tang of your blood as he tosses you into your cell.

He thinks on it a beat later, then tosses in a med-spray so you can heal your fragile ooman skin.

-----

From there, you change your tactics. You abuse him verbally. You narrow your eyes into slits and call him all sorts of names: monster, alien, crab-faced motherfucker. Slimy fucked-up lizard.

When he’s alone in his quarters, he must look up some of the words you use. A crab, for example, is a harmless water creature on earth that oomans eat. Mah’tu cocks his head, considers it. Have oomans ever eaten a yautja before? The records are silent on the matter.

The verbal abuse is much like your physical abuse. It glances off of him. His kind have little capacity for metaphor, for simile or abstract thinking, so when you call him a “motherfucker” it does not bother him because you are wrong—he has never mated with his dam. A silly thought.

-----

Your fury never seems to lessen, but it does cool into something more refined and less ruled by passion. You finally seem to grasp that he means you no harm and that attacking him could leave you stranded in a star system your kind has never even heard of before.

You don’t try to attack him anymore, and your verbal assaults have lessened as well. You still twist your too-soft mouth around into a look that means displeasure, and Mah’tu senses that you are assessing the situation. Waiting for an opportunity to escape him.

So be it. You may be a Blooded member of his clan now (a fact he must remind himself, as your behavior often puts him in mind of a youngling, rash and stupid), but he is your elder both in age and tradition. He has followed all the protocols: he’s alerted the head of his clan, who required several confirmations that yes, you were a ooman and yes, you had killed a kiande amedha. He registers your DNA in the clan’s codex. Lists both your ooman name and the Yautja one he chooses for you (his name means “Swift Judgment,” but yours translates roughly as “Vexing Thorn”).

And though you are Blooded, as your elder, he takes up your training. Against his judgment (swift or otherwise), it is protocol, so he trains you.

Wisely, he starts by teaching you defensive moves. Why put a blade or worse, a plasmacaster, in your twitchy little paws?

If he hadn’t seen the evidence of your killing the kiande amedha, Mah’tu would doubt it now. Even accounting for the general weakness of oomans, their lack of speed or agility or flexibility, you are terrible. Your reflexes…do you even have reflexes?

Mah’tu shows you how he’ll attack you, he shows you how to counter, he comes at you at quarter-speed, and still you fail. You take his punches, his slaps, the sweeps of his leg, and you always end up on the mat in the training room of his ship.

As your elder, he tries to give you helpful advice.

“You are very slow,” he tells you. “Move faster.”

His advice is not well received. “Fuck you,” you spit from your place on the floor, wheezing as you try to catch your breath.

Mah’tu shakes his head. “No, you must train more. How will you ever join the Hunt?”

“I’m not a hunter, asshole!”

“You are Blooded.”

“I’m a goddamned dispatcher at a heating and cooling company!”

He considers this—he did not know that the oomans could control the weather or environment in this way. He will add it to the codex so that other Yautjas may investigate it. But it likely will not help you on the Hunt.

He holds his hand out to you, and you glare at him for a long moment before you take it and allow him to haul you back onto your feet.

“Again,” he says. “I will attack you from the front, and you must feint and then counter by striking me low on my arm.” He pauses and adds, “I will go as slowly as I can.”

You make a growling noise in the back of your throat. “Fuck. You,” you grit out, but you change your stance as he shows you.

A second later, you’re on your back again, but at least you land a blow before Mah��tu puts you on the floor. Your weak little fist glances off his arm, but he is feeling generous and counts it as a win for you.

-----

At his next Hunt, Mah’tu judges that you are not prepared, so he leaves you behind at base camp. He’s not concerned that you’ll try to escape: if you run off, he’ll easily track you. If you try to steal the ship, you won’t get far, as you don’t know how to fly it.

“Stay here,” he orders anyway, and you do that thing with your too-close eyes where they move in their sockets. He believes it may mean you are displeased, but most of your expressions seem to mean that.

“Aye, aye, captain.”

He shakes his head, touches his hand to his chest. “No, I am Mah’tu. Not cap-tan.”

You do the thing with your eyes again. “It’s an expression. Sarcasm, in this case.”

He tilts his head, and you clarify, “a kind of joke.”

Ah. He nods, then turns back to his weapons. He inspects them one last time, then holsters them on his body. The different blades, the net-gun, the darts and spear.

“I will return victorious. You will stay here, little sain’ja.”

You scowl at the nickname but say nothing, and Mah’tu doesn’t tell you that it means “warrior.” It is a jest because you are no warrior. A kind of joke, as you’d say.

-----

It is a successful Hunt. It brings him much honor and new trophies.

You are unimpressed, but when he strings up his kills and begins to clean the skulls, you make an injured noise and dart to the edge of camp to retch. The retching goes on and on, so much so that Mah’tu pauses in his efforts to check on you.

“You are ill?” he asks. “You have eaten something poisonous, perhaps?”

“No, you fucking psycho!” You stand up, swipe the back of your hand along your mouth. “You killed those creatures just for their skulls?”

“Oomans kill for trophies as well,” he points out reasonably.

“Yeah, but we also eat the meat. Venison, turkey, whatever. Some humans, you know, use all of the animal. The skin and horns and stuff.”

Ah, a misunderstanding. It’s bound to happen. Mah’tu puts his hand on your shoulder and lowers his head to show he is sorry for not explaining better.

“Do not worry,” he tells you. “We will eat these creatures’ flesh as well.”

You blink at him, and then you turn away quickly to retch again. Perhaps there was a misunderstanding, but perhaps you are ill as well.

“I will get you a med-kit,” he tells you. “It will cure your illness quickly.”

“Dude, really?” You heave again, but your stomach seems to be empty of any contents. “Honestly, fuck you.”

-----

Living with you is never easy, but it does reach moments of ease, especially when considering how you tried to kill him at first.

He trains you, or tries to. You do get stronger, leaner. You lose some of the ooman softness you had, and through your spat-out cursing, Mah’tu learns small details of your life on earth. How, for example, your role as weather-shaman was a passive one that entailed a lot of sitting and little movement. You apparently were a leader of sorts, ordering other weather-shamans on where to go to bring heat or coolness to other oomans.

There is a limit to your abilities as a fighter, though, and you reach them quickly under his tutelage. You can block many of his attacks, and you can land a blow occasionally, but in twenty sparring sessions, you are lucky to draw his blood once.

He finds that the sparring helps to spend your general fury at him, and the time afterwards—your muscles trembling, your body fatigued and bruised—is almost pleasant. Mah’tu has always been interested in the ooman civilizations, and when he asks his questions, you usually answer them honestly.

“Who were your sire and dam?” he asks.

“My mom and dad?”

“Yes.”

“Then say ‘mom’ and ‘dad,’ you weirdo.”

This is how Mah’tu learns that word choice is important to oomans, that your species uses words to differentiate things that are essentially the same thing.

“I never knew my dad. He took off before I was born. My mom was an alcoholic. She died when I was twenty.”

“You did not know which clan sired you?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Fuck you. I knew my dad’s name, but that was it.”

“Did you share your si…dad and mom with others?”

That, for some reason, makes your mouth turn up at the corners, your lips curved upwards. “We call those siblings. Brothers and sisters. And no, I was an only child.”

“Ah.” Mah’tu nods knowingly. “Your dad was not worthy to sire many oomans.”

And that, for some reason, makes you laugh. It doesn’t sound like a Yautja’s laughter, but it isn’t unpleasant, Mah’tu finds.

“Mom would have liked that. Not worthy. Well, the bastard never paid a cent of child support anyway.”

-----

The two of you continue like this: misunderstanding each other, clarifying what confuses the other, navigating your two separate species and cultures.

It’s not easy, but it grows easier with each passing moment. He no longer has to lock you in your room each night, as you no longer try to escape. He no longer fears your fury (not that he feared it much anyway), so he doesn’t keep such a close eye on you.

He deems you worthy of a blade. He knows you’ll likely never be trained to a level of plasmacaster, but a small blade, designed and weighted for your size and strength seems appropriate for the rare Blooded ooman.

He spends long hours in his workshop crafting it for you. His sire was a renowned weapons master, and he passed his skills onto all of his offspring. Mah’tu forges the metal, hones the edge to such a sharpness that it could split one of the hairs on your head. He carves the handle to fit your hand perfectly, and finally, he tools a fine sheath out of leather, because he worries that you’ll cut yourself sooner than you’ll cut an enemy.

On the leather sheath, he picks out the symbols for your Yautja name. His Vexing Thorn.

-----

Mah’tu learns much from you, and he adds all of it to the great shared codex of information so that other Yautja may know and learn.

Your mention of child support, for example. It is a thing that a sire must use to support his offspring—money, which is the paper goods that represents wealth. He questions you heavily on this point; Yautja honor is derived from the Hunt, but ooman honor seems to come from which of your species can acquire the most of those paper goods. It determines who may live in a fine home and who may starve, and when he explains it back to you—to make sure he understands it correctly—you stare at him, then nod.

“I mean, basically.” But then you try to explain a thing called a stock exchange, and a thing called capitalism, but when he presses certain points, you get confused too.

“I dunno, dude.” You throw your hands up, a gesture of helplessness. “I never went to college, and if I had, I wouldn’t have majored in economics.”

-----

Early on, he calibrates to the ebb and flow of your body, and the questions he asks you in regards to your biology is what makes you the most anxious. Through his bio-mask, he can see how the heat courses to your face. He can hear your heartbeat increase in cadence, but he cannot understand why you respond in such a way. A body is a body. It’s systems and rhythms are what they are.

“You are injured,” he tells you, early. He’s still locking you in at night, and you’re still scowling at him and calling him, among other things, a fucking lizard asshole.

“’m not,” you reply.

He breathes the air of the cockpit. “I smell blood.”

The heat floods your face; it shows white-hot in his mask. “Shut up.”

“If you are injured—”

“I said I’m not.”

“If you are bleeding, I can get a med-kit—”

“Fuck, dude! I’m on my period, okay?”

Mah’tu tilts his head and thinks back to the rudimentary studies he’d read about oomans. “Ah, you are menstru—”

You cut him off with another scowl, but your eyes fix on the stars in front of you outside of the cockpit. “And by the way, having one’s period in deep space is not as fun as it sounds. I bet Princess Leia never had to worry about it.”

He does not understand your ire. “Is this Princess Leia a famed statesman on your planet?” he asks, kindly as he can, but you cut him an icy glare and launch yourself out of your chair and out of the cockpit.

You manage to toss a strained “fuck you” over your shoulder before you leave, as you often do.

-----

So Mah’tu comes to understand the seasons of your body. He also comes to understand how your feel about those seasons. He does not mention when you are on your period, though he can tell. He is sure to give you more privacy, and that helps ease the strain between the two of you.

But with other things, your face does not get inflamed. When your head aches, or when you twist a joint in sparring, you are free with discussing these things with him. When you feel hunger or thirst, when you require a blade to trim away the excess hair that grows from your head. When you feel tired. You share these things with him.

The only other thing you don’t share is when you are in heat. Mah’tu can tell that too, can scent you when your heat is upon you. It runs in the same rhythm as your period does, the two part of the same cycle that seems to come every thirty or day earth days.

It happens so often, he thinks. Yauja females only have a handful of heats in their entire long lives, yet you could spawn eleven or twelve oomans in one earth year. His mind is baffled by the math of it until he checks the codex and learns that no, oomans do not spawn that much. Despite their numerous heats, they only produce roughly the same number of pups as a Yautja female would.

Mah’tu sighs and leans back in his seat once he reads that. He has so much to learn.

The next section in that part of the codex details observed ooman mating rituals, and below that, known instances of Yautja and ooman mated pairs.

It is the latter that makes Mah’tu lean forward, then glance over his shoulder, then lean forward more: a furtive move that would put one in mind of a teenaged human boy looking at pornography for the first time, though of course Mah’tu would not know that.

*****

Sometimes you wonder if you were in an accident that has left you in a deep coma somewhere. How else can you explain the hell that broke loose that night, your small town overrun by monsters?

And how else can you explain the monster who…what? Kidnapped you? Saved you? Because he stole you away from home, but you also saw that mushroom cloud from the porthole in his ship. Did earth even still exist? If you could escape, where would you go?

It’s easier to imagine this all as a fever dream. A coma. Some consequence of a broken brain throwing out insane story lines around monsters and aliens and space travel to worlds you couldn’t even fathom.

But then reality comes rushing back at you, usually in the form of the giant beast named Mah’tu, swiping at you or tripping you or hitting you with the dull blades of his goddamned fucking spaceship dojo.

Then you realize, arm or leg throbbing, bruise forming on your stomach, eye swelling shut or lip split: this is no coma. It’s real life.

-----

He doesn’t kill you. You learn, over time, it’s because you killed one of those disgusting black things with the giant head full of teeth. He had traced its blood onto your head, and you finger the scar sometimes when you struggle to sleep at night.

“You are Blooded,” he explains, like you know what the fuck that means. “You are a member of my clan now.”

Great. Wonderful. You finally had a found family of giant lizard aliens.

You try to explain it to him. Killing that thing was dumb luck. It was some animal instinct, flailing as it cornered you. Your hand had found the piece of metal, and the monster came at you, and you had swung in a move of self-preservation.

“Dumb luck,” you tell him.

But his beady little eyes shine at you, and he lays a heavy paw on your shoulder. “A warrior’s instinct,” he corrects you.

You snort. You, a fucking warrior. You barely passed gym class in high school, cringing during dodgeball, puking during the timed mile run.

“A mistake,” you counter.

He shakes his head. “Fate.”

-----

It’s not terrible. You’re no warrior, but your childhood with an unsteady mother left you with the ability to adapt pretty easily.

He trains you, or tries. He goes hunting for his psycho room of trophy skulls, but he doesn’t force you to eat the raw, dripping meat he harvests. He takes the time to feed you a fruit-type stew, great chunks of roasted vegetables, some kind of flatbread. You recognize the hypocrisy of it—you loved a good burger on earth—but now you’re a vegetarian by default.

He gives you your own space, a narrow storage closet that he cleans out and makes a little nest of furs. When you hurt too much or get sick, he administers some sort of alien medicine that heals you and gives you a boost of energy, like you imagine old-style Coca-Cola used to do when they made it with a little cocaine.

So you endure, and sometimes—you’ll never admit it to him, the goddamned asshole who stole you away from home—sometimes, you actually enjoy this new life. When the stress of work and debts and making rent each month and trying to save up for a new car fall away, when you are whittled down to a more essential sort of life, you find that your anxious mind calms.

You find that you sleep pretty well in that nest of soft furs, all things considered.

-----

The training, though.

The goddamned training.

He is unfailingly patient, at least. He never once gets frustrated when you fail to move the right way. In the rare off-chance you land a blow on him, his happiness is outsized, like a parent crowing when their toddler takes their first steps.

It should be humiliating, but sometimes his praise makes you smile in spite of yourself. You know he’s humoring you, but still. You’ll take your wins where you can get them.

The problem with your handful of training successes, though, is that he thinks you ready for more. He introduces weapons with dull blades. Today, you’re training with some fucking spear thing, and he raps you over and over with his own. A stinging blow across your knuckles. A stab to your belly that lands like a punch. Finally, a curt jab to your ankle that strikes you right on your ankle bone, and you hit the ground with a shriek at the pain that crackles like lightning from your foot.

“Asshole!” you wheeze. You pull yourself into a fetal position on your side, and you pull your injured foot up towards you. You flex your foot. It doesn’t seem broken, but you know it will bruise. And you know he’ll make you swallow a vial of whatever healing shit he has, and the bruise will heal within the day, and tomorrow you’ll be back here, tears leaking out of your eyes as you stare up at him.

“You were supposed to move to the left.” He tilts his head, studies you. “You stepped into my blow instead.”

“Fuck you!” You spit it out with all the venom you can muster. Sparring is as much choreography as it is strength and speed, and guess what? You’ve never danced in your life, aside from some drunken flailing at bars and wedding receptions when you were younger.

At your words, though, he tilts his head the other way, and his bright yellow eyes bore into you.

“Not now,” he replies. “Perhaps when you are in heat next.”

That immediately takes your mind from the throbbing in your ankle. You gape at him, and he stares down at you wordlessly. Did you misunderstand him? It seems a miracle he can speak at all, and English at that, but he is very literal.

“What?” you finally manage to choke out.

“If we are to mate, we should wait until you are in heat again.” He says it so matter-of-factly, and you can feel the blood flooding your face and neck.

“I don’t—”

“It will be upon you in four or five earth days.”

You uncurl yourself and sit up. “How the fuck do you know that?”

“I can smell you.”

You curl your nose in disgust. “Oh, gross. You can smell me? You sound like a fucking serial killer. Hannibal Lecter in space.” You struggle to your feet, and when he reaches out his hand to help, you bat it away.

He tilts his head again, but now there is a question in his eyes. “Is this a misunderstanding, little sain’ja? You have said numerous times you would like to mate with me.”

“The fuck I have!”

“Is that not what it means, when you say ‘fuck you’? The codex indicates that ‘fuck’ means ‘to mate.’”

You gape at him again. Then you close your eyes, pinch the bridge of your nose. You take a deep breath. He’s not wrong. You’ve said ‘fuck you’ a thousand times to him. Goddamnit.

You keep your eyes squeezed shut, and you manage to say as politely as you can, “yes, it’s a misunderstanding.”

You hear the huff he breathes out, the low growl, and then he replies, “another instance of ooman words meaning different things, then.”

“Yeah, update the codex, dude.”

“I will.” A beat, and then he adds, “this Hannibal Lecter. Is he a great warrior in your species?”

-----

The problem is, once he says it, you can’t get it out of your head.

Why do you seem more open to it as time passes? You read once that Stockholm Syndrome wasn’t real, but perhaps it is and you have some version of it. Or maybe you’re just lonely, and had been lonely before you got kidnapped by him, or saved by him, depending on the lens you took on the matter.

It’s true that you had been in a dry spell on earth. You lived in a small town with few prospects. Everyone your age was already paired up, many married with kids. You and your ex had broken up a year before the alien invasion, and you’d had no dates in the interim, no offers, no tempting moments with another person.

And anyway, your ex hadn’t been that great. It had been a relationship of convenience until you had gotten wise to the fact that life with him was not convenient at all. The sex was mediocre at best, he was always borrowing money from you, and never rinsed his toothpaste down the drain when he brushed his teeth.

He never got you anything as a gift either. Mah’tu, in comparison, crafted a custom knife for you…which isn’t exactly a necklace from Tiffany’s, but there is no other knife like yours in the known universe, either.

He’s also considerate to your temperament, your likes and dislikes. He makes sure you have food you’ll eat. He does his skull-cleaning grossness out of sight now. More than once, he’s taken a detour to a planet just to show it to you, just to watch you stand on alien soil and gape like an idiot at flora and fauna that no other human has ever seen.

The craziest thought you’ve ever thought: maybe this fucking alien is the closest thing to a healthy relationship I’ve ever had in my life.

“You’ve lost it,” you whisper in the darkness of your quarters one night. “You’ve lost your goddamned mind.”

Because you lie there for a long moment, thinking about it, and you find that you don’t need to be in heat (the word alone makes you groan in disgust) to feel the sharp knife of desire lance through your belly at the thought of him.

-----

One night, around the fire of a planet where he’s hunting, you ask him.

“Why did you save me?” You watch him as he looks up from polishing his knife. He seems to consider his answer.

“Because you are Blooded, in my clan.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to do that.”

He shakes his head, the dread-like things on his head moving as he does. “It is required. You killed a kiande amedha.”

“I’ve told you, that was an accident. Dumb luck.”

“Many Yautja die in the attempt to kill one.”

“But I’m no warrior. I could never kill another.”

He makes a low trill, which seems to be his version of a chuckle. “No. But you only need kill one to be Blooded.”

You look down at your hands. They are calloused now from all the training, the nails trimmed short. “So it’s just that, then? Just dumb luck that got me here?”

“Not only that, little sain’ja. You could have killed me but did not.”

“So you owe me?”

“No. There is no debt.” He pauses. “Why do you question me?”

You lift your hands in a helpless gesture. “I dunno.”

“The codex says that oomans often question their fate.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you snort. “I just was curious. I thought maybe it was that thing, you know. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“You think I brought you here because we mutually aided each other against the serpents?”

You nod. “Sure.”

Mah’tu shakes his head again, and he chuckles in his way. “No, little sain’ja. I brought you here because you are Blooded in my clan. I’ve kept you with me because I enjoy your presence.”

It’s not Shakespeare, you suppose, but it’s a sweet sentiment, in his own sort of way.

*****

There is a series of Hunts, and Mah’tu fails in one, succeeds in the others. His trophy room has much more Honor added to it, though you remain unimpressed by his prowess.

“Gross,” you say when you peek in at it.

He points to the long skull of the kiande amedha, the one he killed to become Blooded. “Had we more time, I would have beheaded yours so you could keep your trophy.”

You make a face and lift a hand to touch the scar on your forehead. “I think I have plenty to remember it, but thanks. If I ever end up back home, I’ll need to look up a plastic surgeon to handle this.”

It takes some explaining what you mean, but when Mah’tu grasps your meaning, he is outraged. You think the mark makes you unworthy. Ugly, you say.

“It marks you as worthy. A special ooman,” he spits out. “The others of your kind would be fools to not see you as such.”

Normally, you’d do that thing with your eyes, but instead you study him. Stare at him, steady and unblinking. Finally you say, “you may be the only creature who sees me that way.”

He huffs. “Then I am the only creature with eyes to see and a brain to think.”

-----

He is not sure what changes with you. Perhaps you only needed time to adapt to life with him. Oomans, he knows, are highly adaptable.

You have stopped the verbal abuse entirely. You make an earnest attempt when training, and by applying yourself, you earn the right to learn the net-gun. You earn your own bio-mask, and Mah’tu labors over it for several star cycles. You have such a tiny skull, and your eyes are so far apart. It must be custom made.

You join him on a Hunt. It is just a small one, a training to whet a new spear he has made. The prey is hardly worthy, but Mah’tu uses the opportunity to teach you how to stalk, how to move silently, how to be still and watch. You are much better at that than you are at fighting, and though you kill nothing on your first Hunt, you earn Honor for yourself by successfully stalking a herd of very jittery prey. They never once suspect you, and Mah’tu trills in pride when he sees you get close enough to reach out and touch one.

That night around the fire, he gives you much praise. You like that, he finds—you duck your head as if ashamed, but it is to hide your smile. Which means you are pleased.

“Had you been a moment quicker, you could have killed one,” he tells you. “Though it would be a small skull. Our younglings often kill them to learn their blades.”

You laugh. “Oh, fuck you. Our younglings. Yeah, yeah, I get it. This weak-ass human is less skilled than a Yautja infant.”

That phrase again. He knows what it means now, though he was greatly disappointed that it wasn’t what he thought. Still, he bristles; he sits up straighter and looks at you when you say it, and when you realize what you’ve done, you give him a sheepish look.

“Be at ease,” he says. “I know what you mean.”

Incredibly, you lower your head, and he sees no smile there. You kick your foot in the dirt, scuffing it, and you mumble, “maybe I meant it the other way.”

“Which way?”

You groan, and you place your hands over your face. He isn’t wearing his bio-mask, but he can guess that your face is inflamed.

“Don’t make me say it.” The words are muffled, and your voice is tight.

“Say what?”

“Ugh, the gross way you phrase everything. You know what I mean.”

“I do not, little sain’ja.” Though he does—it is a lie to say he does not understand. As you’d say, it’s a kind of joke. Pretending one thing when another is true. A ooman sort of jest.

“You know what I mean. Fuck’s sake, I mean mating.” You whisper the last word, make it small in your mouth, but he hears it anyway.

He wonders what changed in this respect too, but he can consider it later. “We should wait until your next heat is on you.”

That makes you squawk, a sound of outrage. “Absolutely not! I’d never survive it if I got pregnant!”

He chuckles at your horror. “There would be no risk. There are no Yautja-ooman hybrids. It is an impossible thing.”

You sag in relief. “Then why wait?”

“We cannot if you are not in heat,” he points out.

Now it is your turn to laugh at him, and then Mah’tu has another clarification to add to the codex: oomans can mate nearly any time, any place, so long as the mood is upon them.

As it turns out, the mood is upon you now, and Mah’tu is grateful that his face does not show his emotions as blatantly as yours does—otherwise, you may see how he is flustered, then aroused in equal measure.

*****

He would take you outside, you think, but you douse the fire and lead him back into the ship. For one, you don’t want this to be out in the open, where any creature could witness.

For another, you want to be as close as possible to his array of med-kits and healing sprays. God knows how this is going to work. He’s bigger than you in every way possible. It may not work at all.

He seems confused, but he lets you lead him. You, for once, hold your hand out to him. He makes a low trill, and takes it, and he follows you into the ship. You start to lead him into your quarters by habit, but he stops, tugs you towards his.

“More space,�� he says.

In his quarters, he only stands and watches you. Waits for you to make a move. Which is novel, for you: you’re used to letting your partner lead, though your partner up until now has exclusively been a disappointing and generally clueless human male.

“Um.” You kick off your boots. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, then take a breath and pull it off, as quick as you can. “How do you usually?”

That curious head tilt of his. “Usually what?”

You swear to god that he’s toying with you. His stupid face gives nothing away, but he’s not usually so dense.

“How do your kind mate?” You undo the snap on your pants, the zipper, and you push them over your hips. You kick them off, peel out of your socks, and stand in front of him in your underwear.

They mate like they do everything else: with ceremony, rules, customs, elaborate steps that either mean honor or dishonor. They mate due to some confusing clan alliance, and the mating is always towards breeding the next generation of Yautja. They don’t generally mate for pleasure, though of course it is pleasurable to mate, he explains.

“But you are not beholden to those customs,” he adds. “As you cannot add glory to our clan by breeding with me.”

“Noted.”

“Even if we could have offspring, they would be very weak.”

“I said I got it, thanks.”

While he gives his explanation, he strips too. He lays aside his greaves, his gauntlets, his weird footwear. The data pad he wears on his wrist. The fine netting of his invisibility tech. The thick belt that holds more weaponry than Batman’s setup. He leaves his loincloth-thing on, though, and stands to look at you.

He makes no move. You give him a long moment to lead, but when he only stands and watches you, you decide to lead.

You bridge the few steps between you, and this close—sans most of your clothing and most of his—the size difference has never been more stark. Hell, the difference in your damned species has never been more stark. He’s objectively ugly, you suppose. You must be just as ugly to him, but you wonder if he finds you as fascinating as you find him?

He's a greyish green at first glance, but you’ve noticed that his coloring depends on the light. Sometimes he looks more like a gem, glimmering a darker green like an emerald. Now, in the lower light of his berth, he shimmers almost iridescent.

You’ve touched him plenty in the training sessions, so you know that your first impression (cool and slimy) is incorrect. His skin is dry, warm to the touch. You reach out a tentative hand and lay it on one of his massive pectoral muscles, and when you do, he lays his own hand over yours. Engulfing it.

“How do your kind mate?” he asks, and honestly? He kinda nails the bedroom voice because he lowers his register and growls it, and the sound makes the ache between your legs grow stronger.

Who knew he had it in him?

You think on how to answer him, but he adds, “show me, little sain’ja.”

*****

It takes much of his strength to not overpower you. He can smell your arousal, sharper even than when you’re in your heat. He can hear your heartbeat growing faster, can hear your breathing getting a harsh edge to it. Mostly, though, it’s just his instinct to want to fight you, to submit you to him. To treat you like a Yautja female, really.

But you’re not Yautja. The sight of you in your thin underthings is proof of that. Your fragile skin has no variations aside from a few scars. Your fleshy mouth, your too-wide eyes, the strange lifeless hair that sprouts from your head…he should find you repellent, but when you touch him, he leans into the sensation of your hand on his chest.

He orders you to lead. He does not want to hurt you, so he puts the moment in your hands.

You pause, considering your moves. Thoughtful of what to do in order to make this work. You nod then, and remove the remainder of your clothing, and Mah’tu takes in what has been hidden from him: your breasts, despite having no younglings to nourish. The curls that cover your sex. You gesture to him, and he removes his loincloth, and your already-wide eyes go wider to the point where he fears they may fall out of your skull.

“Fuck,” you breathe out.

He nods. “Yes.”

You laugh at him, and it’s the merry version, not the frustrated kind. “We have to go slowly.”

“Yes.”

“I mean it. You have to….” You pause, and he hears the way you swallow as you study him. “You’ll basically have to not move until I, uh, get used to it. Once we…start.”

Another nod. “Yes. I understand.”

"But you can, uh, touch me. If you want. Before we start."

He lies down on his furs when you tell him to, and you approach him carefully. You cast a wary eye on him as you kneel beside him, then shuffle closer. He takes a hand and chances to touch one of your curves, the one from the dip in your waist to the swell of your hip, and you like that. He can smell the way your arousal blooms, so he continues touching you. Slowly. Carefully. He leads you to lie down beside him, and he touches all the parts of you he never has touched in your training sessions.

Each place is a revelation.

Your breasts are soft, malleable, yet they are tipped with firm nipples. He molds his hands around the shape of them, which makes you moan, but when he skates a blunt nail carefully over each nipple, one and then the other, you part your lips and swear at him.

“Fuck’s sake,” you say, and your voice is tight, like you’re pained.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. God, no.” Another hard swallow. “That’s…that’s good. You can do that again.”

So he does.

Oomans, he finds, perhaps like their pleasure with a little pain, or even just the threat of it. He is gentle with you, careful of his strength and his claws, but your arousal grows sharp when he draws a nail over your tender skin or when he wraps one hand around your neck to hold you still from your wriggling.

His exploration leads him lower, to the source of your arousal. He slides a gentle finger between your legs, feels how hot you are, how wet you are, how the slick seeps out of you in anticipation for the joining with him.

All the same…

“Your sex is very small,” he mutters. He drags the pad of one finger through your folds and finds your entrance. He tests it, pushes it into you, and it goes fine with how wet you are, but a lone finger is nothing compared to his cock. Still, when he breeches your entrance with his digit, he hears the breathy way you whisper his name. Better, he feels how your sex twitches against him. Like it seeks to draw him in deeper.

So he adds a second finger, which makes you curse, but it is much the same. The same twitching from the smooth muscles of your sex. A fresh pulse of wetness coats his fingers, and he pushes them in, draws them out, mimics mating in this way. Spreads his fingers inside you, to stretch you in preparation.

“God,” you whisper. “Please, don’t stop. Keep…keep doing that, okay?”

He nods. He’s an eager pupil, and you can teach him this. A moment later he feels it: your tiny hand, fumbling for his cock. Circling your slender fingers around his girth. You have little strength but it’s enough to give him pleasure, and he wonders how much is due to your grip and how much is due to the fact that it’s you, his Vexing Thorn, gripping him there.

“This gives you pleasure?” he asks.

“Yes.” You hiss it, draw the word out. With your other hand, you reach down yourself and show him another part of you, a firm little bud also slick with your arousal, just above your entrance. “If you, you know, touch that carefully. Rub it? Carefully. It will be…ah, fuck, yes. Like that. Just like that.”

As he works his hand, he feels you relaxing. Loosening. You are still very small, but it seems more likely that you can take him now, so he keeps going, and you writhe against him, stroke him as you whine out all sorts of words he’ll have to study later.

You reach some point where you deem yourself ready, and you push his hand away. You take your own hand from him, and he grumbles in disappointment, but then you are on him, on top of him, pushing him back, and he lets you.

“Are you okay with this?” you ask. You straddle him, and he feels the hot slick of you pressed against the length of him. “I mean, I don’t know the politics of this. Is this even consensual?”

“Explain your question more.”

You sigh, but you also slide against him, your lower body moving back and forth in small motions as your hands brace on his stomach. He feels how you’re coating him in your arousal, and the mechanics of it make sense. If your sex is slick and his is as well, it will make the mating easier—

“I mean, we never reviewed consensual sex with other species in high school sex ed.”

“I do not understand.” He grips the fat of your ass, you’re so soft there, and he urges your movements. There is pleasure even in this, and he feels himself growing harder underneath you.

“Am I…fuck, I don’t know how to say it without just saying it. Is this what you want? Am I coercing you for sex?”

He chuckles under you, trills deep and long. “Little sain’ja, how could you coerce me? You are so weak.”

You pout, the fleshy lower lip of yours stuck out and wet. “Asshole.”

“I could throw you off me in an instant. I could be on top of you before you could even blink.”

That makes a fresh beat of arousal pulse out of you, coating him more. He notes it. Perhaps you would find pleasure underneath him, just as he is enjoying being underneath you.

“Okay, yeah. Good. So we’re good, then.”

“This is what I want,” he clarifies to your question. “You can feel how I strain to seat myself in you.”

“Well, then.” You gaze at him a beat longer, but you shift, reach your hand down. You grasp him at the root of his cock, and you lift yourself up enough to slot the flared head of him against your entrance.

“I mean it. Please don’t move at all until I tell you. This is…” You trail off, and your pink tongue darts out to lick your lips. “This is a lot.”

He nods. “I will not move until you order me to.”

At that, you begin to lower yourself onto him.

It goes so slow. It must, despite your arousal. You are so small, and he is large, but your anatomy is such that it can take far more than he thought. But it must go slow, so your sex can adapt to him. Wonderful, adaptable oomans: your sex twitches and grabs at his cock as you work yourself onto him, but he enters you bit by bit, and you breathe deep and mumble curses, but you also groan at what you’re feeling, and it sounds like a pleasurable noise to him.

But you take him to the root, in time. In time, you sit flush on him, no space between where he ends and you begin, and Mah’tu has never felt a mating like this in his long life.

“Fuck, I can feel you in my throat,” you whine, and you wriggle at where you sit on him. It sends him a fraction deeper, and he can feel the end of his cock nestled against some inner part of you, though he assumes it is your womb and not your throat. But he also assumes it is one of those things where you say a word and it means something else, but he doesn’t ask for clarification because he needs all of his strength to lie still and wait for your command to move.

It doesn’t come just yet. You sit on him, the back of your thighs flush with his hips. You don’t move much; you move and resettle, you wince and then move, and your tense face cedes to one of panting pleasure. Little by little, you start to move: lifting yourself off of him a fraction, lower yourself back down. Your arousal keeps it as easy as it can be, and in moving, he feels your sex relax more, molding itself to the shape of him.

“Is this okay for you?” you whisper, and he nods his head. He keeps his grip on your ass but only as a place to touch you, not to harry you along. How can he describe what he’s feeling? He has no tricky words like you do, and he fears his blunt speech may anger you.

If he could say what he’s feeling, it would simply be this: that you’re his mate, and now that he’s felt this once, you’ll be his mate for life. He would not give you to another, nor allow another to touch you, and if you wanted to return to earth, he’d go with you and find a way to live amongst the other weak, tricky oomans.

Eventually, you begin to move in earnest. Riding him in a steady rhythm: raising off of him until only the broad crown of his cock is nestled in you, then sinking back onto him. Over and over, in this way, your constant phrase of ‘fuck you’ is realized, and Mah’tu growls at this new way of mating.

“You can…you can move,” you finally tell him. “But slowly, slow….ah, fuck!”

You don’t finish the thought because he moves. Not as you expected, probably, but Mah’tu is a quick study. He shifts one hand from where it kneads at the softness of your ass, and he draws the pad of his finger at where the small nub peeks out at the apex of your sex. He rubs it carefully, mindful of his claw, and it makes your hips jerk against him.

“Yes, don’t stop. Jesus, you’re….keep doing that. Just that.” The pace you’re riding him picks up in speed, and it makes your breasts bounce, drawing his gaze for a moment before it snaps back to where he disappears into the confines of your body.

“I’m close,” you tell him a moment later.

“Close to me?” he guesses.

You laugh, breathless. “Close to coming.”

“Coming where?”

Another laugh, and your rhythm falters for a moment. You reach out and steady your hand on his chest, and your face is perfectly relaxed, radiant in happiness, and Mah’tu thinks that even if you are ugly with your ooman features, he finds you beautiful. Perfect.

“Close to…my pleasure,” you clarify, and you resume the quick pace of fucking him, riding him, drawing him into your body.

“Ah.” He strokes the hot, swollen bud above where he slides into you, and he considers himself. His own pleasure has been close for a while now, his seed close to bursting. “I am close too, then, little sain’ja.”

“You can….come….with me.” You’re panting now, pushing out your words in time to each time you reseat yourself. A sheen of sweat glistens along your skin, making you look almost part Yautja in the low light. “If you…want. Want to…feel you.”

He nods. “I will do as you ask.”

Another breathless laugh, but then you say no more, and he can only observe your body for any clues. Ooman pleasure is blatant, he finds, because your sex gets wetter, and then you moan loudly. Then your entire body seizes in a way, trembles and shakes above him, but your sex tightens against him like a fist, and it’s easy for his pleasure to break as well. He feels it in a way he never has before, like a great wave carrying him towards you, and he spills inside you with a roar that must shake the walls of his ship.

-----

With Yautja mating, once it is complete, the two part. If they meet again, it is only incidental, a consequence of sharing younglings.

So it is strange, how you nestle against him after you both reach your pleasure. He remains nestled inside you, a snug fit that keeps his seed confined in your body—but you lean your upper body down onto him, nuzzle your face against his broad chest, and just lie there.

It is very strange. But it is not unpleasant. A beat after you settle, he places a hand on your back to hold you firmer against him. Your skin is warm and soft under his palm, and he strokes you softly.

“I did not hurt you?” he asks after a long while of lying like this.

“Only in the best way.” Your mouth is near his skin, and he can feel your warm breath against him.

“Explain your meaning.”

“I’ll definitely be aching in the morning.” You pause, seem to think on it. “But it’s a good ache. Like…the ache of training really hard.”

Mah’tu chuckles, and he drags the blunt tips of his claws along the skin of your back, which makes you squirm against him. The motion makes his cock, only half-hard now, twitch back to life.

“You are much better at mating than training,” he tells you.

“Asshole.” You turn your head against him, and he feels the blunt edge of your teeth. You are biting him, but there is no pain. The sensation—your wet mouth on him—makes his cock twitch harder, make the blood pool there to make him grow harder.

You can feel it. You breathe against the wet spot you’ve put on his chest, but then he feels you move—a deliberate rocking, very carefully.

He has many questions he’d like to ask you—other ways your kind mate, for example—but he saves them for later because the mood is upon you again, just as the mood is upon him. And anyway, in the course of your second mating, some of his questions are answered by showing, and Mah’tu is an eager pupil.

#kinktober2024 #clear the inbox 2024 #tropes and tales #the predator #the predator x reader #the predator imagine #yautja #yautja x reader #yautja imagine #the predator series

1K notes · View notes

monstersflashlight · 5 months ago

Text

Commissions masterlist

The spiral to insanity happens in a hole (Werewolf x fem!reader)

“Don’t run” (Werewolf x fem!reader)

Plug you up to shut you up (Werewolf x were-cat!reader)

Through better and worse (Orc (POV) x fem!reader)

Big and Beefy (Orthon x fem!reader)

The dragon’s bride (Dragon x fem!reader)

Tangled in you (Fem!orc x fem!elf (3rd person))

The hole in the wall (Orc x minotaur x werewolf x chubby trans masc!reader)

Date a were-rabbit they said (Were-bunny x fem!reader)

Date a werebunny they said… (part 2) (Were-bunny x fem!reader)

Quest to ecstasy (Monsters (werewolf, gator-monster, pale man) x transmasc!reader)

Ruined Skirt (succubus x trans fem!reader)

Mark me, mate (dragon x male!reader)

Maybe I'm a bit of a creep (werewolf x fem!reader)

Naughty booth (orc x fem!reader + tentacle monster x fem!reader)

[Patreon] Library fun (minotaur x chubby fem!reader)

[Patreon] Monster-tale (tentacle monster x fem!OC x fem!reader)

Measuring tape (mothman x trans masc!reader)

The key to productivity (werewolf x were-bunny fem!reader)

The princess desire (orc x fem!reader)

[Patreon] Bunnydoll (werewolf x were!bunny fem!reader)

Heat salvation (xenomorph alien x fem!reader)

[Patreon] “You know I don’t like coffee?” (werewolf x chubby vampire fem!reader)

[Patreon] Are you stupid? (minotaur x fem!human x chubby fem!reader)

Best. Night. Ever (multiple monsters naga, werewolf, alien and mothman) x trans masc!reader)

[Patreon] Intergalactic idiots (alien x orc x fem!reader)

[Patreon] His toy (ghost x fem!reader)

[Patreon] After clossing (tentacle monster x orc x warlock fem!reader)

[Patreon] One more (minotaur x chubby fem!reader)

[Patreon] Expert in pussy-ology (werewolf x chubby vampire fem!reader)

All info on commissions can be found here. And what I don't write here.

I do not consent to have any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent. This includes reposting my stories on other websites, platforms, etc.

#commissions #monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster x reader #terato #monster boyfriend #monster love #monster fuqqer #monster kink #monster lover #monster romance #monster smut #monster x you #monsterfucker #monsterfucking nsft #monster's pet commissions

483 notes · View notes

yaut-jaknowit · 11 days ago

Note

Predator x a former Weyland-Yutani researcher who does NOT want their children anywhere near a xenomorph at any point in time/is not so hot onnthe whole "hunting the most dangerous game" thing in general.

Monsters Under The Bed

Character: Woftik (male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2077

Summary: On the north end of the planet, the cold weather is brutal. Only the strong survive. One of your children is nearing their chiva. The blooding ceremony where she could die. You didn't want her to go. She's still your baby to you. Still so small like the day she was born. But Woftik is the leader of the tribe. This must be done.

Author Note: This thought process for many of those who have children with Yautjas is probably high. Humans aren't used to such a thing. Sometimes it works in their favor, but others... not so much.

Masterlist

Ao3

“I will not allow our child to be slaughter by those, by those monsters!” you screamed off at the top of your head. Tears streamed down your sticky cheeks. A finger was shoved into Woftik’s chest, not even making the Yautja sway. “It’s one thing for you to go out there and hunt but it’s another to send our child to their deaths!”

Out of all the things he could’ve said today, you weren’t expecting him to state it’s time for your daughter to become a newly blooded. Woftik had been training her since she could walk how to hunt. Hunting normal things for food or necessity. Not going off to fight an eight-legged creature who only comes out at certain times in a year. This thing lives in caves. Caves. Limited space to fight. The beast was around twenty feet tall, scary beyond belief, and – oh, could kill your daughter! How did he not understand this?!

Woftik let you yell at him, let you take your anger out at him. An angry partner was bad. But he knew better from experience not to feed into the energy. After some time, you’ll wear yourself out eventually.

The nonreaction from him only pissed you off more. It gave you the wrong signals. As if, he didn’t care about you or your feelings or your daughter. Your fists trembled at your sides. You were red in the face, hot headed and all. “You don’t care?! You don’t care she could die because it’s part of your culture to send your children to death. But, I will not stand for this.” You put down your foot firmly and jabbed your finger into his chest again.

Only a brow lifted to acknowledge the jab. “Woftik, you will not send Vo to her death. I will not stand for this. I don’t care if its part of your culture.” With your past experience with Weyland-Yutani, you knew some of their culture and history. Dangerous. Death. That’s the foundations that you saw. Kill or be killed in their line of work.

Why in all the years did you decide to free this asshole and allow him to take you away from earth. You will never know what you were thinking back then. Young and stupid. Here comes this big, burly, monster who sweeps you off your feet and saves you after saving him. How idiotic you were. Cause now look at the trouble that’s put you in.

After all the yelling, releasing the pent up anger, the energy left your body. You panted, shoulders heaving while glaring up at the giant off white Yautja in front of you. His stance or features hadn’t even changed once since the start of the argument. You wanted to get angry all over again but saw no point. If he won’t budge, what’s the point to try again?

“Woftik,” you soft call his name. The glare on your face turning into a pleading expression. “Please.”

One of his upper mandibles twitched. “Sweetheart.” Woftik cupped your hot face in his hands and drew you in closer. “This is for her. She has trained since the moment she could stand. She must take this step in her life to continue to live within our tribe. Or else she’ll be forced out.” His thumbs rubbed at both the wet and dry tears stuck to your cheeks. “This is for her own good. Even our own daughter has to face the same challenges as any other Yautja.”

Your heart broke into a million pieces. Tears fell more constantly. You shook your head in his hands, trying to deny his words. “Woftik, please. Don’t do this. Don’t send her out there. She’ll die. She’s… she’s not like you. She’s human too.” As much as you hate to use your species in a demeaning way to yourself, if it helped. So be it.

A hybrid. A surprise you didn’t think was scientifically possible. Two different species, different DNA, different chromosomes. It shouldn’t be logical. But, here was your daughter, Vo-tok. She was living proof.

His mandibles drew up into his mouth. “And that will be her advantage to this. I believe in her skill and my skill. Remember, I taught her everything she knows. Do you trust me?” he asked, softening his voice and drawing your full attention to him.

The lump in your throat was hard to swallow down. Your gaze slipped down to the ground. Anywhere besides his dark brown eyes that could see into your very soul. His hands on your cheeks tilted your head up even more to find the thing you tried to hide from.

“Do you trust me?” By his god, you did. A lot. It was your human nature to fret about your daughter though. He’s trained. Cleanly. You’ve seen him in action when he had to take down the base he had been locked up in. No human could stand in his path and live. All except yourself. That was because you had saved his life. The code all respected Yautjas follow to a T. He had been forced by said code to take you back with him, despite his want to slaughter you. Except, you had freed him from his bonds and gave him a chance to escape.

Pain was evident in your eyes. “Woftik,” you whined his name. The Yautja tightened his hold, silently demanding an answer from you. A sigh left you, eyes shutting softly with a wince. “You know I do.”

Despite your anger, your rage on the male, there wasn’t a doubt you trusted him. You had to in this line of work. Without him, being in the cold, freezing North Pole, you would’ve perished long ago.

Woftik released a deep rumble that sounded similar to a purr. His face grew close to nuzzle his temple to yours. “Then, trust my training. I’ve taught plenty before. Not all have returned from the hunt. I won’t lie to you. Her chances are greater than any other trainer,” he explained and pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open to find his nearly black eyes looking deep into yours.

“How can you expect from me to do this? I can’t. I can’t just turn a blind eye and let our daughter near such a thing. Why can’t she just hunt something normal? Like those deer-like creatures you bring home every once in a while,” you tried to reason with him one more time. Anything to get him to break. “This is our daughter we’re talking about.”

His eyes hardened for a moment. “And all of my children have gone through similar training either by me or their mother. They’ve endured the hunt. Not all have survived. It’s their final test to become a hunter. Vo-tok is half ooman but that may be an advantage to her.” How could he possibly think such a thing? Compared to his kind, Yautjas are weak, fragile. Plenty of other Yautjas have told you so despite who is your mate and what your position is in their clan.

From the determination in his eyes and voice, there was no way to win this verbal battle with him. As much as you hated it, his word was law. He led his clan with a mighty fist and ensured their survival through the harshest of months. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t take your word or listen to you. He’s often done that. But, this was one thing he won’t budge on.

And that made you feel a hurricane of feelings for him.

You turned your head away, pulling away from his touch. “When does this ‘hunt’ begin?” you asked in a defeated tone, faced tucked to the side.

Woftik sighed and squared his shoulders. “Three days, at dusk. The beast only comes out at night.” Your heart clenched at the thought of your daughter fighting at night. This couldn’t get worse. You flinched and hugged yourself, trying to fight off the new wave of tears again.

Your shoulders were bunched. You forced yourself to take a few steps away from him. “Okay,” you softly said then turned around and walked away from him. Distance was needed. Space and time. You had to go spend time with your daughter. Before everything may change before your eyes.

Worst of all. You had three other children with him. Woftik was sentencing all of them to their deaths. And there’s nothing you could do to stop it. All he expected from you was to trust the training he puts all four of them through. But Woftik is… Woftik. He could handle himself. You’ve seen it personally, up front and personal. But this, this is completely different. Your children. This is your children you were talking about.

The eldest of your children wasn’t even home. She was out, training with another group of young bloods nearing their blooding ceremony. And none of their parents were objecting this. It was part of their culture. A hard pill to swallow for an outsider who wanted to protect your children from the monsters.

The others were in the playroom that branched off of from the common room. You walked through said space to find all of your little ones huddled together, eyes wide. Their whispering stopped immediately at your approach.

Unease had settled in their dark eyes. Your heart broke all the more at the sight. Instantly, you knelt before them, brows furrowed up. “Oh, babies,” you cooed to them in a soft, gentle tone.

None of them were babies anymore. The second oldest, Ma’ril, was thirteen in Yautja years, nearing his own blooding as well. Then, you had Tink-on. She was twelve. Lastly, was Veir. He was nine. The youngest in your family. Yet, all of them knew the basics at least of hunting. Each progressing in different weapons that suited them best. Woftik ensuring to hit every style to find what fits them. He was so careful about their training. That at first, you weren’t fretting about their upcoming hunts. Until the day comes.

It was closing in fast.

“You heard us yelling, didn’t you?” you asked, disappointed in yourself. This is one of your worst fears.

Veir nodded his head silently and looked at you from underneath his brows. You flinched as if he had struck you. It was one thing to shout at your partner but another to have your children hear it.

“Oh, babies, I’m so sorry. We were disagreeing on something. I’m… I’m just scared for your older sister. I can’t help it. It’s part of being human.” Something they were burdened with. The emotions of a human and the talents and skills of a Yautja. Two ideas that don’t mix well. “But, we came to an agreement. There’s nothing to worry about now.”

They all looked at each other before returning their eyes to you. Timidly, you opened your arms and waited with bated breath. One after another, Ma’ril, Veir, and Tink-on piled in on each other. All of them snugging you into a hug.

“You know I love you with all of my heart, right?” A question you couldn’t but ask in the aftermath. Each one nodded and voiced that they knew. “Good. Good. I’m very glad. I love you guys so much. You’re my world.”

And they were. They were your lifeline. Woftik was part of that as well. Pieces to the puzzle that made up your life. A life you didn’t want to see break up if a piece goes missing. You had to hold back the tears desperate to fall. The idea hurting more than you thought.

You felt the eyes before hearing the soft steps of Woftik. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the hulking, white giant stalk into the room quiet as ever. He moved with ease and lowered himself to his knees at your side. Your gave him a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. The pain was too fresh in your heart to forgive him just yet.

“They heard us,” you explained in soft voice that only he could hear. The off-white Yautja hummed and scooted closer, showering the four of you with his warmth. His muscular arms came around and encircled all of you. You leaned into him, taking the embrace to quell the pounding of your heart.

Nothing needed to be said about your family. Mismatched, imperfect as it was, you loved it more than anything.

#predator #yautja #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x human #predator x human #x reader #Woftik #Woftik x Reader #Woftik x human

118 notes · View notes

ozzgin · 1 year ago

Text

Here's a complete list of all my horror works to date.

Alien & Predator

Predator x Predator! Reader Headcanons

Predator x Predator! Reader Headcanons (II)

Predator x Predator! Reader Headcanons (III)

Predator x Predator! Reader Headcanons (IV)

Predator Headcanons: Predator! Reader in Tournament

Yandere! Androids Walter & David x Reader x Neomorph

Asks: Do Xenomorphs pass the Harkness Test?

Doodles: 5 Xenomorphs 1 Reader Meme

Creepypasta

Yandere! Creepypasta x Reader (Jeff the Killer, Slenderman, Offenderman)

Creepypasta x Tall! Male Reader (Ben Drowned)

Yandere! Creepypasta x Eldritch! Reader (Ben Drowned)

Yandere! Creepypasta x Chav! Reader (Ticci-Toby, Eyeless Jack, Ben Drowned)

Yandere! Creepypasta x Reader (Ticci-Toby, Eyeless Jack)

Yandere! Creepypasta x Haunting! Reader (Eyeless Jack)

Yandere! Creepypasta x Reader (Jane the Killer)

Doodles: Ben Drowned Fanart

Horror Movies & Games

Yandere! Valak x Reader

Pyramid Head x Reader

Yandere! Edward Scissorhands x Reader🎃

Yandere! Hannibal Lecter x Reader (Thanksgiving Special!)

Yandere! Devil x Fem!Reader [The First Omen]

Yandere!Art the Clown x GN!Reader [Terrifier]

Doodles: A work of Art [Terrifier]

Monsters

Complete list here

#creepypasta masterlist #horror masterlist #alien masterlist

639 notes · View notes

foxy-128 · 14 days ago

Text

The young hunt...🦴

GN!TEEN!READER X PARENT!MALE!YAUTJA(platonic)

Summerary:what would happen when you goes on your first hunt alone?

Tw:mention of killing, hunt, fight, gore(i think), mention of weapon and blood!(if i forget any warning...just tell me!)

In the vast, dense jungles of a distant planet, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ancient trees. The air was thick with the sounds of creatures preparing for the night, and the scent of damp earth filled your nostrils. You stood beside your parent, a proud Yautja warrior, who towered over you, clad in intricate armor that shimmered in the fading light.

“Today, you will learn to wield your armor,” your parent said, their voice a deep rumble that resonated with authority and pride. “It is an extension of yourself—an ally in the hunt. Do you understand?”

You nodded eagerly, excitement coursing through your veins. This was a rite of passage you had long anticipated, a moment that would solidify your place among the Yautja.

Your parent demonstrated how to activate the armor’s functions, each piece seamlessly coming to life with a hum of energy. The chest plate glowed, the gauntlets extended with retractable blades, and the helmet displayed a multitude of scanning options, each more sophisticated than the last. You marveled at the technology, so different from the human world you knew.

“Now, it is your turn,” your parent urged.

You donned the armor, feeling the weight settle comfortably against your skin. As you moved, it adapted to your motions, enhancing your strength and speed. You practiced, lunging and striking, becoming more comfortable with each movement. Your parent watched, their expression a mix of approval and expectation.

“Tonight, you will face your first hunt. You will not be alone, but you must prove yourself.”

The words sent a thrill of nervous energy through you. You felt ready, but the weight of your parent’s expectations hung heavy in the air.

As night enveloped the jungle, your hunting party gathered—a band of fierce Yautja warriors, each one a master in their own right. They acknowledged you with nods of respect, their eyes glinting with the promise of the hunt. The leader, a battle-scarred veteran named K’thar, stepped forward.

“Tonight, we hunt the Xenomorph Queen. It is a dangerous foe, but your training has prepared you. Trust in your instincts,” he said, his tone serious but encouraging.

The group moved silently through the jungle, the sounds of the night becoming a distant murmur as you focused on the task at hand. As you approached the hive, a palpable tension filled the air. Your heart raced, not just from fear but from the thrill of the impending challenge.

Then, you saw it. The Xenomorph Queen, a towering, menacing figure, loomed in the darkness. Its armored exoskeleton glistened, and its piercing, multifaceted eyes locked onto your party, a snarl rumbling from its throat.

“Stay close,” K’thar commanded.

But in the chaos of the moment, instinct took over. You felt a surge of adrenaline and darted forward, your heart pounding. The Yautja warriors, surprised by your sudden movement, shouted in alarm, but it was too late. You were already in the fray.

The battle erupted. You dodged and weaved, using your armor’s enhancements to your advantage. You ducked under the Queen’s massive claws, retaliating with swift, calculated strikes. Your blades glinted in the dim light as they found their mark, each movement a dance of agility and precision.

The Queen roared in rage and pain, blood flowed everywhere but you did not falter. Summoning every ounce of strength, you unleashed a powerful blow to the creature's underbelly. With a final, desperate strike, you plunged your blade deep into its heart. The Queen staggered, its roar faltering as it collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

Silence fell over the battlefield as you stood, panting heavily, staring at the fallen foe. The realization of what you had done washed over you. You had faced one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy and emerged victorious.

Your parent and the others rushed forward, their expressions a mix of astonishment and pride. K’thar approached, a rare smile breaking across his fierce face.

“You have proven yourself today, young one. You are truly a warrior,” he declared, placing a hand on your shoulder.

With their help, you managed to drag the massive corpse back to the gathering place of your clan. The Yautja cheered, their voices a cacophony of approval and celebration. They honored your kill, a testament to your bravery and skill.

As you stood there, surrounded by your clan, your parent stepped forward. Their gaze was unwavering, filled with pride.

“You are one of us now,” they said, the words resonating deep within you.

In that moment, you knew you had forged your place among the Yautja, a warrior ready to embrace the hunt and all the challenges it would bring.

#child reader #gn reader #yautja #horror fanfiction

30 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 3 months ago

Text

So as well as working on another grumpy monster for Patreon (male shire centaur x female reader this time), and Oats the Biker Dad Kelpie Part Two, and a few other projects, I've just started a 'reverse harem' yautja thing. It's not actually yautjas - they're the same thing as I did for Big Red's multi-chapter story a while back, which was basically me taking my yautja barbie dolls and putting them in my sandbox. No actual legit yautja lore applies - I just borrow what I like and make up the rules as I go :)

But anyway, there's a young hunter who's been sent to earth to make his first kill of their 'enemy' (discount xenomorphs). The fem. reader is a biologist studying frogs in a remote, nondescript forest, and gets snatched up by some drug runners. The not-xenomorph comes across their camp that night though, and starts killing the drug smugglers, then the not-yautja arrives and starts killing too. He finishes off the humans, sets the biologist free, then gets into a spot of trouble with the not-xenomorph. After dispatching the not-xenomorph, he collapses, gravely injured, and the human saves him.

They bond a bit while he heals, but not long after, his squad comes to get him, and she meets the rest of the gang: an elder who's quietly affectionate and fond of his crew, the medic who's sweet and shy, the big muscle of the group who's surprisingly gentle, and the scout, who's a bitter bastard. Oh, and they all kind of seem to be mated... which she discovers when she accidentally walks in on the big guy getting very aggressively railed by the scout...

I can't wait to introduce you to them, but I'm busy for the rest of the day now and I'm not around tomorrow, so hopefully I can finish it on Thursday, if it doesn't turn into another mega monster story like Big Red's did.

#yautja inspired aliens #big red and croc #update #also hi i'm still here i'm just a bit busy

40 notes · View notes

darkenedreaper · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, I read a couple of your Ripley x Reader fanfictions and suffice to say it's pretty much the only fanfiction out there that is actually good!! (we don't talk about the Ripley x Male Xenomorph fanfictions... it's not worth it, guys)

I was wondering if you'd write a Ripley x F!Reader around the scene where Ripley, Hicks, and Newt are escaping the xenomorphs after they fall in through the ceiling and they're running away, and then Newt falls down the air shaft (?) and Ripley and Hicks are running (y'know the scene: SHE'S ALIVE, SHE'S ALIVE)

Anyway thanks!! Hope you're having an amazing day and thanks for all the fanfiction you've written so far!

(let's just take a moment to appreciate all of the mother ripley scenes where she gave Jonesy and Newt kisses and me wishing I was simultaneously Jonesy and Newt. also the 'close your eyes baby' was literally the sweetest thing ever)

Hello darling, thank you for your kind words regarding my writing, I love writing for Ripley and there truly isn't enough. Hope you enjoy.

I Believe You

Pairing: Ellen Ripley x F!Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff

Summary: The sudden attack from above of the Xenomorphs puts distance between Ripley and Newt, will it put distance between you and Ripley?

A/N: If you don't love Ripley, don't talk to me.

You and Ripley were closely huddled together whilst Gorman stood to your right with Burke hiding like the coward he was in the corner. All that could be heard was the low and distant hum of vents, the tracking device bleeping away signalling the distance of a target, the loud buzzing of the welding machine, and the heavy breaths that were shared between you all.

The two welding machines that were held by Vasquez and Hicks were sealing the door shut, preventing entrance from any threat. The machines sent off sparks which caused Ripley to pull Newt behind her warning her; "Don't look at the light". As she pulled Newt behind her, she lightly tugged on your sleeve, checking you were still beside her as she didn't look up from her tracking device. You held you gun like you were standing at ease, and you took the opportunity to wipe the dripping sweat from your forehead, you took a long at Ripley's tracking device watching the blue blips on screen close in the distance, forcing you to tell Hicks; "Come on Corporal hurry it up", "I know", he replied with a struggle to quicken the welding machine. After hearing the panicked Hudson you tried to hurry Vasquez, "Come on Vasquez, you too", "I know", she retorted back, a few seconds later they both sprinted backwards from the welded door.

Hudson was frantically reading the decreasing distance between all of you in the room and the Xenomorphs, "6 metres!", Ripley looked up and you and shoved the tracking device towards you to show you, "That can't be that's right inside the room". You both got your guns at the ready, Hicks, Vasquez, and Gorman doing the same, Burke trotting backwards to an area aware from the door. The only noise that could be heard was the blipping noise from the device and the panting noises that came from you all. You used your voice with a low tone, "Remember, short controlled bursts". Newt kept a tight hold of the back of Ripleys pants.

As the blue blips on the tracking device closed in and on top of you Hicks accused Hudson of not reading it right. You tried shaking the device and out the corner of your eye you saw Ripley lift her head up towards the ceiling. Before you could ask she nudged your arm and pointed towards the ceiling, the rest caught on to what she was getting at. "Oh my god", Hicks said with a quiver in his voice. Hudson and Vasquez held him steady on the chair. If Ripley could grab onto you she would, instead she held the gun at the ready, you did the same, making sure to stay a step in front of Ripley and Newt. You all waited in anticipation before Hicks fell down screaming, the Xenomorphs crashing and jumping down.

The violent and hurried shootout began. Hudson was giving them his all, Vasquez was at the front line gunning down more and more Xenomorphs. You and Ripley stood close and shielded Newt whilst shooting any threat in sight. Ripley took Newt and ran to the door where Gorman was frantically elbowing as Burke had locked himself in. As Hudson went down screaming and appeared to be swallowed up by the floor, Hicks and Vasquez ran to his aid, unable to save him. Hicks ran past you and to Gorman, Ripley and Newt, where he'd make his attempt to open the door. "Burke, open this door!", Ripley shouted pounding on it.

You and Vasquez were eliminating the Xenomorphs, almost relishing at the sound if their screams as acid exploded from them. Ripley ran from the now unlocked door and grabbed onto your shirt pulling you with her, you shouted to your partner at the frontline, "Vasquez!-", "Go!", Vasquez cut you off and so you ran alongside Ripley, following her and Newt into the vents, Ripley still having a tight hold onto you.

It looked as if a big wheel was turning with water dripping down it, you helped Ripley over before passing her to Newt. Shortly later as Newt was crossing before she took Ripleys outstretched hand, there was an explosion, causing a rumble throughout the vented area and with a shriek scream Newt fell down. "No! Y/N get her!", Ripley pleaded. As quick as you could, you jammed your gun into the turning wheel and threw yourself across and grabbed a hold of Newts sleeve, "I got you Newt hold on", you said to the girl before her and Ripley screamed as Newt fell down once more. Ripley had started to shout after her but you picked her up and grabbed her arm forcing her to look at your hand, "Come on Rip we can track her with this".

Ripley took a few seconds to stare deeply into your eyes, the both of you breathing deeply, the sweat running down both of your faces. She looked into your eyes and she was reminded of your kindness and help in the midst of literal chaos, anything to keep her happy, you'd do. You snapped her our of your trance and told her to climb up, heading towards Newts location. You ran hand in hand, both pairs of eyes scanning everywhere for anymore Xenomorphs. All you had to hand was a handgun, the tracking device and the welding gun the Vasquez had thrown to you.

"Down here! I'm down here!". You both rushed towards the direction of the little girls voice but Ripley left you in the dust when she saw her little fingers wiggling through the bars. You and Ripley dropped to your knees and you took out the welding gun, Ripley knew she wouldn't have to tell you what to do and so instead she watched you and comforted Newt, "Climb down honey, we'll have to cut through". You were going as quickly as the damned thing would let you cut through steel and you called out to Ripley over the noise of it, "Check the tracking device, we've gotta be careful with the noise outta this thing". Ripley looked at you and grabbed the device, eyeing up the new blue blips that appeared on screen, "Y/n... somethings here". You didn't answer Ripley instead you placed your hand down on the already cut down trying to force them down whilst still cutting with the the other hand.

Newt was drenched in the water down below, holding on to her plastic doll, she too heard the blipping and became more aware of her surroundings. Ripley watched as the blue blips were now closing in on Newt. "Y/n hurry", Ripley panicked. "Fuck!", you called out, "there's no time, help me!", you shouted to Ripley as you threw the welding machine to the side and started kicking the bars, As soon as Ripley caught sight of the Xenomorph towering over Newt, she started stomping, finally breaking through when the water was disturbed and Newts scream as now distant.

You both panted and Ripley held onto your knee as she peeked down calling for Newt, as soon as she saw Newt was gone she tried to climb down, only to be pulled back by you, "No!... No!". It was a struggle to pull Ripley back up to eye level but you got her and had to fight to keep her close to you and not let her run off. You tried calling her to calm down, "Ripley! Ripley!". "They don't kill you, they don't kill you she's alive! You know what happened to Kane!" The distraught woman brought back the memories of you old friend and crewmate Kane and his death.

She was right. They take you and cocoon you. Death is only certain when a facehugger attaches itself to you. "She's alive Y/n I'm telling you!", "Alright! Alright Ripley, I believe you she's alive!". She simmered down after your response to her pleads and she looked up into your eyes. You believed her. Of course, you've always believed her... and trusted in her. You were the only one to back her up when Vasquez and Hudson doubted hers and yours fight with the Alien on the Nostromo. Your voice that soothed her, and brought her back down to earth providing her with reassurance, "I believe you, but we've gotta go. Now. Come on." You pulled her up by her arms and she took your hand and ran along with you, both of you following the tracking device; only our way to save Newt.

#ellen ripley #ellen ripley x reader #ripley #ripley x reader #aliens #alien #sigourney weaver

24 notes · View notes

destinationtrekk · 3 months ago

Note

hey! it's me, the b.o.w. reader anon again!

just wondering...

in your opinion, what do you think a female Tyrant would look like?

i'm talking like a Mr. X or Nemesis kind of Tyrant.

would she have hair? or would she be better off bald?

would she be as monstrous as her male counterparts? or would she be something like Lady Dimitrescu?

again, just wondering...

(also tall and buff women hell yeah)

no i definitely want a sexy monstrous beast!!! i'm talking xenomorph fangs and exoskeleton armor - the whole nine yards.

mayde it'd be cool to have them be able to kind of shift depending on whats going on. maybe xenomorph tyrant doesn't want to tear the bedsheets with her big claws, but i think even in a 'normal'/'not beastly' form, reader is still gonna have those virus traits - maybe hair or not, i dont think it really matters - but certainly things like unusual pupils/eye colors, odd physique (ribs, spikes, tentacles? go wild!), and maybe even a different voice/accent!

the thing i love most about this b.o.w./tyrant!reader is that he/she/they aren't sexualized monsters. this isn't anime, this is resident evil. as much as i love the sexy badasses like ada wong and jill valentine, i don't want wesker to be flirty and turned on (at first). i want him in awe, distubed, proud, absolutely mindblown at the combination of his scientific triumph and reader's extreme resilience and determination - not only to survive the t-virus, but to survive for him.

so in short, i think a female tyrant will be just as creepy and terrifying and superior as nemesis or mr. x - maybe just a little nicer to our evil little scientist boyfriend.

(but also imagine big scary xenomorph tyrant reader getting their progenitor shot like wesker does and he puts a hello kitty bandaid on them :3 )

#albert wesker #resident evil #b.o.w. reader #trekk answers #this is me proudly displaying my monsterfucker i.d. badge #hello kitty bandaid made me laugh so hard

4 notes · View notes

raccoonspooky · 2 years ago

Text

#I really like being able to idk characterize different people and i feel as if ive gotten too comfortable with HOW and Brahms hahaha #I know every aspect of their yucky lil heads!!#poki writing #I have wips for several of these lmao #my wip folder is… dense

15 notes · View notes

slashersgostabbystabstab · 1 year ago

Text

Also available on AO3!

Eat You Alive [NSFW]

[MALE] Xenomorph x [AFAB] Reader Smut

Poll winner was smut for the Praetorian Xenomorph! This alien is based off of the one I created/wrote for in this fic. So if you'd like some more context for this fic please do read that story first. However, this is a no-plot smut that technically is not canon to the story mentioned(because that one will have more chapters). The Xenomorph is referred to as Seven for he is Specimen #7. Not sure what else to say lol. Hope you guys enjoy!

I really should edit this but I need a break and am desperate to post this

Warnings: Alien sex~

Words: 4,599

After several dalliances you indulged yourself in with Seven, the Praetorian Xenomorph originally hellbent on ending you, a plethora of things had become very apparent to you. You noticed the honor held by the specimen amongst the rest of the hive members he resided with, how they all accepted him as their leader until a new Queen reigned over them. You noticed how, although the drones and warriors harbored a clear annoyance towards you, you were practically untouchable thanks to the Praetorian.

You were sure they didn’t exactly take a liking towards you both because of your dissimilar species and…that the main Xenomorph kept you in his good graces for some unknown reason. It was apparent that the aliens felt some sort of envy that was unfortunately out of your control, but once again it was a good thing that Seven had a soft spot for you.

The reason for it, you nor any other human on Gethov or the United Systems really had it.

All you knew, but they didn’t…was that perhaps you had developed a soft spot for the alien as well. Those dalliances served not only as a means to learn more about the Praetorian and the cult that created him, but as a way to become closer with him. Learn why the other Xenomorphs who possessed more alien than human in their genetics decided to follow him.

Amongst many reasons, apparently…an ardent libido was one of the greatest factors.

And what really alarmed you…was how obviously you desired the Xenomorph as well.

Several times you had found thoughts of the Praetorian infiltrating your mind, both idyllic and lewd ones filled you. Thoughts of how you wanted him to fill you-

You immediately brought your hands up to your face, shaking away such erotic ideas as a cool water flowed from above and hit your warm body. There was no doubt that these notions had gotten the best of you, for here you stood bare and exposed inside the Xenomorph hive.

If you were honest with yourself, it wasn’t the first occasion in which you had displayed yourself in the aliens’ den. But, the previous instances were not motivated by anything desire-based but rather the need for a moment of relaxation.

Centuries of bringing ruin to planet Earth had led to various resources becoming scarce, water being one of them. The area in which the hive was based was made up of both a wrecked colony ship and an actual cave system. And the area in which the Praetorian resided alone…had the wondrous sight that was a waterfall of crystal clear water that was as clean as could be.

One would have called it selfish that you refused to advise your crew about this source of water, but it would have also stained the relationship you worked so hard to form with Seven. The best choice really was to keep the cave a secret, and in turn, Seven allowed you to bathe in the water as many times as you liked.

And perhaps he liked it every time you did, nearly always watching you from a distance in the shadows formed by the cave.

Finally you uncovered your face from the embarrassment created by only you, and you turned around to where the Xenomorph observed you. His figure could barely be made out in the shadows as he remained still, only his drool slightly visible as it still glistened in the darkness. You hugged your body as the cool water continued to rain from above, dropping from your head and sliding across your wet skin as you locked gazes with the alien. You were sure he liked to study from afar in the same way you took in every detail of his body, perhaps it was the reason he constantly allowed you to undress to wash yourself.

Pushing back your heated thoughts once again, you turned away from the alien to continue washing what was left of your body. Not like you really needed the shower, it was more of a moment of peace and quiet. Luxury one could say.

But it was in that moment, among the sounds of water dropping and falling onto the large body it had created and the ripples forming from everything, an anomaly sounded that made you turn around once again. In the few seconds you had faced away from Seven, he hastily stepped out of the shadows and into the blue pool of his den. And he now made his way towards you, something he never did until you were fully clothed again.

Already he stood before you, towering over your bare figure as he examined you from above with his claws hovering at his sides while each finger bent and cracked individually in an almost anxious manner. Even his tail wagged behind him while he looked down at you with a certain kind of look you recognized on the other Xenomorphs when they wanted to indulge themselves with each other. When they wanted to indulge…with Seven.

Your body now completely faced him as you remained hugging yourself, merely staring up at him as his claws crept close to your form. And you soon had Seven’s arms lightly engulf you, cage you against his form as you shivered in the water. His claws grazed against your back, softly scratching down the entirety of it until he reached your buttocks which prompted you to softly gasp and wince at the touch.

The pace in which your heart beat against your chest was beginning to make you feel dizzy, but the cold water that still poured over you was more than enough to keep you awake as the Praetorian leaned down enough to have his face meet yours. Despite the coldness that hit your body, you uncovered yourself to reach up and hold the Xenomorph’s face before he nuzzled into the soft touch. And you soon enough had the alien remove himself from your embrace to instead nuzzle his jaws into your neck, right before he parted his jaws so that his tongue would come out to lick your wet skin. You lolled your head back to look directly at him as he did that, holding his jaw again with one of your hands as you caressed the slick surface of his face.

“Seven…” you breathed out as he continued to lick your neck and soon your cheek. “I want you. I want you to take me.”

And that was all the alien needed to hear, for you soon found yourself out of the water and on land with your back on the resin-covered ground of Seven’s den. No hesitation came from Seven as he followed you to dry land, stepping out of the water as well before he crawled onto all fours despite the heavy crest on his head. He crept towards you, something every single one of the other Xenomorphs would have killed to have, while your legs parted just for him and presented your wet entrance.

As the Xenomorph kneeled before your body, somehow inspecting the entirety of your form with his alien senses, you observed as his wet tongue extended itself out from the vicious teeth that parted to allow it out. The fleshy organ slithered and snaked down to your figure in a teasing manner before finally gliding over your neck as it did moments ago.

Your nude body shivered at the feeling of Seven’s tongue and even shifted when he dragged it along the skin over your collarbones, ultimately licking your sternum’s area. And by simply having his tongue over that location you could tell he was able to sense the rapid beating of your heart, for he made sure to let his licking linger in the thumping’s region. However, it wasn’t long before you felt the tongue begin its route towards your left nipple that had become erect prior to any of Seven’s sensual actions.

After clearing enough surface area, Seven made sure to thoroughly fixate on your left nipple which prompted you to sharply inhale at the sensation and shut your eyes with a bite of your lip. He flicked the tip of his tongue on the hardened bud a few times before he began to circle it around the center, leaving a wet trail everywhere it dragged. He drew a plethora of moist patterns on your skin, almost as if trying to lick off the remaining water droplets on you before his affections ceased but instead continued on with the other nipple.

As he focused on your nipples you found your hands reaching out to his head until they found his face, cradling it before your eyes reopened to gaze at the alien. You arched your back into Seven with a fervent moan, your hands grasping onto the sharply lined jaw belonging to him before you moved to the smooth dome that was the area on his head before his large crest.

And although Seven’s actions came to an end on your nipples, his tongue refused to come off of your body as momentarily returned to your chest’s middle part. He trailed the organ in a straight line downwards towards your abdomen as he felt your chest rise and fall in a broken manner.

Your breaths had already become desperate enough with the treatment on your nipples, but your eagerness only increased when Seven’s tongue traveled down to your navel and then lower stomach, coming so much closer to your crotch. You pursed your lips and shut your eyes yet again when his hot breaths hit your lower region, expecting the long tongue to begin its licking on your slit. But…you instead felt Seven lick at your thigh. This time when opening your eyes you lifted your head to look at the Praetorian, somewhat in disbelief as he purposely remained focused on your thigh while managing to look up at you.

If a Xenomorph could show more facial expression, Seven’s features would have shown a shit-eating grin as he studied your deceived expression. So long you had waited for such a moment, and the tease had the gall to make you wait even more.

A whimper escaped you as you stared down at him, clearly frustrated as he left his licking on your thigh. Seven watched you squirm beneath him, wanting your exasperation to last just a bit longer as he licked his way towards your groin while maintaining himself away from it. Who knew teasing was mixed into his genetics… However, you then gave a slight gasp the moment he stopped what he was doing to shift his body in a way where he could hold himself enough with his knees. His claws became disconnected from the cold ground so that they could grip onto your waist, pulling your body towards his face that he proceeded to bury in between your legs. You felt your body tense up the second before and after he finally gave into your whines, audibly gasping when his tongue slid between your folds and licked the first of your juices.

Seven’s claws made sure to keep your body in place as it jumped into his mouth, and he was quick to avoid your clashing into his sharp teeth.

Your hands reached out to him once more, holding his crest as your fingers wandered through every single one of its intricate details. A choked out moan slipped through your lips when Seven licked your slit up and down, lapping up every part of your wetness that had formed since the moment he stepped into the cool waters with you. He lapped up every crevice his tongue could get into, making your legs spread even further before his tail skillfully came from behind him to wrap around your unlicked thigh.

God you just couldn’t take it! The feeling of a tongue slithering all over your clit and teasing your opening was already a wonderful feeling, but having an alien’s was just driving you to the brink of insanity. Yes Seven possessed a more humane tongue unlike the other Xenomorphs who had their inner jaws, but this tongue had the ridges and bumps that an alien’s second jaws had. And the flaccidity his tongue had just made it all the better, lapping up everything before he unfortunately pulled away from you.

In dismay, you lifted your head with unsatiated lust-filled eyes that pierced right through the Praetorian. Attempting to even out your breaths, you held back for just a moment as you watched him move his claws from your waist to your hips. Seven used this new hold to position you even closer towards his mouth, but at a precise angle before his tongue poked your entrance. And before you knew it, the organ slit right into it much to your surprise.

Thank god Seven was holding you down, for you jerked upwards and into him the moment you felt the tongue inside of you. Your moans echoed through the hive’s chamber before you quickly brought a hand to your mouth, covering it as it goaded Seven into wanting to hear more of your little and big sounds.

He retracted his tongue out until only the tip of it was left inside of you, flicking it again before the appropriate length was slid back into you. His claws were careful not to break any skin on you, but you could sense a desperation in the way he held you, a sort of neediness as he continued to tongue-fuck you. But he withdrew your tongue from you, this time completely, to clean up everything that coated your entrance. Seven made sure to focus on your moist bud, giving it long strokes of his tongue before you threw your hands away from your mouth and onto his head again.

“Oh, god-” were the words that escaped your lips as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you felt yourself arch upwards once more. A deep feeling in your stomach had begun to form, one you were really struggling to keep back as Seven attempted to bring it out of you. “Oh, fuck-!”

God you could feel just how wet and sticky your body had become, a mixture of your fluids and Seven’s saliva covering your thighs as he made a complete mess out of you. You could feel every ridge of his tongue glide against your entrance, especially when he followed his own set of patterns before he inserted his organ in you again. You kept choking out moans, the pleasure so apparent at this point while your stomach’s grew worse by the second.

Your inside felt so full with Seven’s tongue alone, squirming as he held you tighter but with much care. You were such a mess, throwing your legs up in the air and over Seven’s head crest before holding onto the ground for much needed support. One of your hands however came up to your head as you held yourself while the euphoria coursed all throughout you. And Seven was very aware of your close-coming end, so he acted fast.

His claws and tail released your body so that he could instead place them under your thighs, pulling your hips upwards as he repositioned himself.

“Seven! Jesus, ah! Fuck!” your voice echoed again as you opened your eyes for just a moment, seeing the Xenomorph plunge his tongue down into your hole as he towered over you. Once again did your head go back and your eyes shut, too much pleasure overcoming you while that feeling in your gut made your breaths quicken and so many sounds come from you. Every thrust of his tongue brought you closer to the edge, so, so close as you squeezed your eyes tightly. Your legs shook as your depended on both Seven and your toes to keep yourself up, and you were so ready to give out as he deepened his tongue within you.

“Please, please, please. Oh my god-” you begged the alien who felt highly encouraged to bring you to your release, so he removed his tongue from you one last time to slurp up the remaining juices on you. And finally, you were able to reach your sweet release with one final scream as a sensitivity was felt on your crotch.

Even as you continue to squeal, whimper and moan, Seven’s tongue refused to stop lapping everything up. If anything it egged him on as you completely lost yourself in the moment, a hazy yet intense feeling filling you up while Seven moved his head against you.

Your nails clawed into the ground at the endless pleasure. Your body quaked in Seven’s hold. And your eyes fluttered open once you were able to process where you were and just what the hell had happened.

You were eventually able to lift your head as you felt the Xenomorph completely pull away from you, licking what drooled out of his jaws while he gingerly set your body down.

He studied your entire body, a hunger conspicuously displayed on his form as he flashed his fangs at you. Seven removed his hands from you, not setting them back down on the ground until after he crawled over you.

A breath got stuck in your throat as your senses became clearer, blinking at the Praetorian who leaned down towards you. His claws caged you underneath him as he dragged his teeth over your neck, breathing hot and heavily against your skin before he moved up to your face.

The two of you breathed against the other, staring deeply into the other before you felt something wet and cold touch your inner thigh. So you looked away from the alien and lifted your head as he buried his face into the crook of your neck again, desperately wanting your affections on his own body.

As he trilled into your neck, your eyes widened at the sight of an appendage that protruded from a slit in between his legs you had seen a numerous amount of times. You knew what hid behind the slit, but now seeing his fully erect member show itself from it had you flabbergasted. Your head was gently brought back down to the ground as you felt Seven bucking his slick member against your thigh; meanwhile, you really considered your options here.

Well, there wasn’t much to think about when your mind constantly had lewd thoughts like these about Seven.It was now or until the next time the Xenomorph managed to court you.

Seven’s face did not leave your neck until you brought your arms up from the floor, pulling his face and cradling it as it hovered over your own. Through the exhaustion you were just getting over, you gave the alien a soft smile. Over time…your heart had really warmed up to the idea of being with this creature, and it wasn’t just the thoughts of desire. And you knew Seven felt the same about you, and these acts were one of his biggest ways to prove how he viewed you compared to every other living thing.

You rubbed your thumbs against his jaw as you softly closed your eyes, bringing his maw close to your lips so that you could kiss the features surrounding his teeth. And after you planted a few kisses over his face, you let one of your hands go to the appendage that continued to rub onto your sticky skin.

The sudden touch on his member made Seven thrust into your hand, making him hiss as he unintentionally pumped into your hold. But he then waited, gathered all the patience in the word, waited until you directed his tip to your entrance.

You braced yourself for impact, suddenly feeling the alien thrust right inside you before you gasped and released his girth to instead hold onto him with a clawed grasp. Your body tensed up once more and your back arched the further Seven dug himself into you, purring into your neck while you wrapped your arms around him as best as you could.

If his tongue was already quite ribbed, the textures on his sex were loaded with textures that you could feel the deeper into you he went. And all this just made you curl your toes before you bent your knees so that they trapped Seven with you.

Now it was his turn to sound out his pleasure, snarling into your neck the moment he was able to get a decent length inside of you. Although aching for an end so early already, Seven maintained himself in place with a bit of a wiggle as he adjusted his girthy erection in you, making you moan at the fullness you felt. And finally did he slide most of himself out as you felt every line and curve on his member press against your inner walls, this time your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Seven licked your neck like many times before.

Seven’s hands now came back onto your hips to make sure you stayed put again, then using his hold to jerk his hips back into yours more force than before. He elicited a moan from you, one that would have made him grin had it not been for both his lack of expression and the gratification that caused him to mindlessly give you more thrusts. The Xenomorph himself couldn’t believe the sensations his alien body was feeling, never having indulged in something so delectable before despite the plethora of female aliens that offered themselves up to him.

No, he only wanted you. He only needed you.

And Seven nearly felt himself begin to lose control the more he slid in and out of you, relishing in every single sound you made. Every single move you made, especially when you carefully but tightly held his hunched figure against your arched one. He took in the entirety of your scent, he wanted to have it all.

“Seven, fuck-”

Fuck, a knot was quickly starting to form in your stomach despite having only gone through a few moments of penetration. But the feel of his member and his pace were enough to make you lose it.

“Seven…oh, Seven,” This time you were practically the one drooling before you unwrapped your arms from the Xenomorph, feeling as he erected his figure to loom over you. However, he leaned back down the moment he felt your hands be placed on his face, pulling him down for another mock kiss before you put his dome against your forehead.

Your eyes never parted from Seven’s face as he continued to fuck you, now faster than before. You felt him release your hips to instead hold one of your calves with one hand while the other wrapped its claws around your neck. It wasn’t a chokehold, but it was enough to have you gasping for air as you had almost forgotten to breathe once he gave you a powerful thrust.

A growl rumbled in Seven’s throat the more he crashed into you before a snarl and screech followed through. Oh he could have easily switched things around: use those huge claws of his to flip you around and bend you over, have him screaming like all the others that challenged him and didn’t live to regret it. But your screams were different, yours were music to his alien senses, sounds he wanted every single other Xenomorph and human to hear.

And scream you at least did after he moved his claw from your calf to the area beneath your thigh, lifting your leg up to hit you from a better angle. Now he went faster, doing his best to hold back and not outright slam into your frail body. He needed to be gentle, careful not to break your little body. At least the first time around.

“Seven, oh shit!” You moaned out as the knot grew worse, so many juices spilling out of you as you came extremely close. But as much as Seven wanted that to happen, he wasn’t going to allow it just yet. He needed to finish with you, make sure you took every drop of his seed he was going to pour right into you.

So, the alien let go of your throat and thigh before he grabbed your body as a whole, swiftly turning you so that you lay on your side. In an instant, his tail came around to wrap around the thigh of your leg that lay over the other, and Seven used this to lift your leg up. He then placed his claws on your body, specifically your lower back and stomach before he plunged deep in you so fast, so suddenly that it made you shriek to the heavens. The bulge he felt on your stomach had him obsessed, and he resumed his humping into your body as the bulge grew and shrunk with every move.

This was it, you were going to have that orgasm you had long awaited for and the Xenomorph was going to join you in such a blissful moment. Just a few more quick thrusts and you would have it.

You were so lost in the moment that it never crossed your mind just what would happen when Seven finished inside you, but it didn’t matter. You just wanted the alien to fill you to the brim, to have his seed spill out of your hole before he pushed it back in with another fuck session.

And that moment was fast approaching as you felt Seven begin clawing into your back and stomach, his erection pulsating inside you before-

“Doctor!”

You yelped in that very instant when a man’s deep voice startled you out of your lewd actions, making you realize something so terrible. It was Sergeant Newton who called out to you, somewhat annoyed as you figured he had been calling out your name a few times now.

Your eyes went down to your wet entrance, the juices coating you hidden amongst the water that fell onto your body from above. A shame overcame you once you took notice of your hand that played with your own folds, and not your beloved Praetorian’s ribbed cock.

“Doctor, dammit! I’m coming in!”

“No, no, no! I’m here! I hear you!” you immediately shouted at the empty threat, holding your dear heart as you prayed the Sergeant hadn’t heard any of the sounds you had been making earlier. “What is it, sergeant?” “Your crew’s been whining that you’ve been in the shower too long, so come on out already! Can’t stand these techies finding all sorts of excuses to complain.”

“O-Of course! I’ll be right out!” you immediately shut the running water off the moment you cleansed your hands of your own fluids, a heat never leaving your face as you took a second to cool down before stepping out of the shower.

A sigh escaped your lips once you were able to recuperate and relax as your hands covered your features, still too embarrassed to come out. As you took this moment to yourself, you pondered for just a minute longer…realizing just how much you craved…Seven. You were no different from the other Xenomorphs who threw themselves at him at any given chance, and you were somehow sure you would do the same the next time you found yourself in his presence.

Your eyes shut in that very second as you attempted to take the thoughts of the Xenomorph out of your head…but really all you could think was…that perhaps a visit was in order.

#shameful #self reblog

231 notes · View notes

dominantslasherking · 2 years ago

Text

Slashers x Male S/o Masterlist 1

Hello, my devilishly handsome readers, Here is my Master list.

MASTERLIST PT 2.

Btw, Dominant Male reader FOR all of them.

Warning emoji⚠️⚠️ With the one that has smut.

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal x Male reader PT 1 Backstory: Hannibal has an Animalistic urge to make you his, god how possessive this cannibal is and he wants everyone to know who you belong to, He invites you to dinner. POWER BOTTOM HANNIBAL. Hannibal x Male reader PT 2 Backstory: Hannibal has an Animalistic urge to make you his, god how possessive this cannibal is and he wants everyone to know who you belong to, He invites you to dinner. POWER BOTTOM HANNIBAL.

Hannibal x Male reader⚠️ (Requested): How about Power Bottom Hannibal Lecter from NBC riding male reader

Hannibal x Male reader

(Requested): i really like the addams male reader idea! do you think you could do it with another character? maybe hannibal? i feel like that'd work well together (reader x hannibal to be clear)

Hannibal x Male reader ⚠️ (Requested): hhhhhhh sorry if this might be annoying since you just did an ask with him (but reading it got me feeling some type way 💀) but could you write something with hannibal that includes smut? likeee not to be dramatic but ur a godsend for male readers tbh

Hannibal x Male reader (Requested) Can I request Hannibal x reader where reader is like Michael Myers and doesn't speak much they met one night where reader was hunting he's victim and hannibal saw him and taken an interest in reader

Hannibal x Male reader [Requested] Okey what about a reader with Hannibal Lecter who is his patient who have anger issues, and Hannibal is helping him building some patience with cockwarming.⚠️⚠️

Hannibal x Male reader [Requested] In which, you get kidnapped by Hannibal Lecter, as he could no longer hold himself back for his desirable and insatiable love for you.

Hannibal x Male reader [Requested]Listening to Hannibal whisper some of the most arousing things in your ear during a party. Scenarios of you two being caught fucking or him disappearing under the table to suck you off. Once all the guest leave you bend him over the closet counter or table and immediately get to work on fucking him.⚠️⚠️

Hannibal x Male reader [Requested] Tooth rotting fluff with any slasher you have in mind

Hannibal x Male reader [Requested]Hannibal with a boyfriend (reader) who is js like...absolutely smitten and is so in love with him and will do anything for him -- Hannibal x Male reader [Requested] the reader is so big that when they are doing the nasty Hannibal stomach is bulging a bit because of how big the reader is ⚠️⚠️

MORE COMING SOON

Hannigram/Hannibal and Will

Hannigram x Male reader You save the Murder husbands and nurse them back to health, with them falling into a possessive love for you not knowing that you were a sort of an anomaly yourself, being that you are a blood-sucking vampire some called you count Dracula, but you adored the name which was (Name).

Hannigram x Male reader You're a famous murder investigator and you are on the case of the Chesapeake ripper, in your alone time you figure out who they are...However they know that you know...and well, you are too entranced by them to let anyone know, and maybe they also have caught a deep interest.

Hannigram x Male reader you're an android assigned to hunt deviants in Minnesota, However, you soon realize you are also becoming a deviant because of these feelings for two certain killers

Hannigram x Male reader [Requested]Could I request Hannigram x a demon s/o? I think it would be really interesting to see how they would interact

MORE COMING SOON

Billy and Stu

Billy and Stu x Male reader You find out about Billy and Stu, your closest friends being scream after they decided to reveal themselves to you, And have a little fun. POWERBOTTOM BILLY AND STU. SLIGHT NSFW.

Billy and Stu x Male reader Billy, Stu, and you are at school when they start getting jealous when the new girl hits on you, they try hard to contain it around Sidney and Tatum because they still have to kill them later and are still in a "relationship" with them.

Billy and Stu x Male reader You see Billy and Stu playing around with Sidney before they kill her, but she grabbed a knife and suddenly escaped, Right into your arms, oh god what you would do for these men.

Billy and Stu x Male reader Everyone in the school, knows About yours, Billy, and Stu's relationship after Tatum's and Sidney's body being found dead in the woods, with some other bodies. The cops question Billy and Stu, but they have their alibi.

Billy and Stu x Male reader You're the loner at school, and so when the two scream killers target you, they get too invested in their liking for you.

-- Billy and Stu x Male reader You're a famous well known Slasher, Billy and Stu are big fans so once they see you in the asylum they take the opportunity to be around you much to the other slasher's annoyance.

Billy and Stu x Male reader (Requested) Ok all I need at this moment is billy and Stu being bratty to reader in bed and reader punishing them.⚠️

Billy and Stu x Male reader (Requested) Billy and Stu were out killing, and see you feeding/killing someone, they are completely enamored with you.

Billy and Stu x Male reader Billy and Stu with a greaser boyfriend

Billy and Stu x Male reader (Requested) More Billy and Stu x Vampire Male Reader

Billy and Stu x Male reader (Requested) I think a big dumb farm boy reader with billy and stu or billy lenz would be so fun. Like himbo dumbass cowboy and his slasher boyfriend

Stu x Male reader You get a video from Stu...(I don't own the video, I found it on Pinterest and thought it was funny, credit goes to the TikTok user who uploaded it .)

Billy and Stu x Male Reader (Requested) More Addams family based male reader x billy loomis and stu macher

MORE COMING SOON

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen x Male reader (Requested) Power bottom Danny Johnson 👀

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen x Male Reader

[Requested](whatever character cause i can't think of anyone rn lol) who's obsessed with and obsessed with pleasing the reader? like would absolutely do anything to worship him

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen x Male reader Danny is getting possessive once these idiotic copycat killers try to come after his man--(you)

MORE COMING SOON

Michael Myers

Michael Myers x Male reader Moving into a killers house wasn't to bad, until the lights suddenly turn off and you run into, the killer himself.

Michael Myers x Male reader (Requested) Like imagine dragon male reader blowing Jason or Michaels back out⚠️

Michael Myers x Male reader (Requested) Michael Myers x Childhood Friend Male reader Basically Michael had only one friend which was Male reader and he ends up meeting Make reader after so many years and becomes obsessed with him Love you And your work<333

Michael Myers x Male reader (Requested) hello! could i request michael myers x a reader who's like hannibal? (seggsy smart cannibal type shit 😛) maybe they would've met in the psychiatric hospital and then worked together (eventually as lovers) when they escape

Michael Myers x Male reader (Requested) Michael Myers x Idk Two Faced Male reader Basically the Reader portrays himself as a kind person bit is really a evil,cunning asshole. -- Michael Myers x Male reader/ [Requested] Being friends with Michael since childhood, breaking out of Smith's grove with him, all the while Michael is developing feelings for the reader. After they break out Michael decides to ride the reader for being so good to him and helping him escape⚠️⚠️

MORE COMING SOON

Michael and Jason

Michael and Jason x Male reader (Requested) Poly Relationship Michael Myers and Jason x Emotionless Male reader. Basically Michael and Jason becomes interested in Male reader due to Male reader not reacting to a victim running to them for help and just ignores the victim. You can add smut if you want <3

MORE COMING SOON

Jason Voorhes

Jason Voorhes x Male reader⚠️ Imagine Jason dating a tall dominant Male reader and gets jealous of a camper flirting with Male reader and ends up having jealousy sex So basically Power bottom Jason Ig sorry not good at requesting

MORE COMING SOON

Chucky and Tiffany

Chucky and Tiffany x Male reader Chucky and Tiffany with Dominant male vampire S/o.

Chucky and Tiffany x Male reader (Requested) Imagine Chucky and Tiffany meeting Demon Male reader who was in the middle of a kill and Chucky and Tiffany witnessing it and becomes interested in Male Reader

Chucky and Tiffany x Male reader (Requested) Human Chucky and Tiffany threesome orrrrrr just Chucky getting railed whatever you’re comfortable with⚠️

Chucky x Male reader Chucky falls into an obsessive type of love with Andy's adopted older brother which is you.

Chucky x Male reader [Requested]Okay okay hear me out; in the flashback from Curse of Chucky we find out that Charles was obsessed with and wanted a family with Sarah Pierce, right? So what about Charles Lee Ray with a breeding kink?

MORE COMING SOON

Pennywise(2017)

Pennywise x Male reader You are mates with Pennywise.

MORE COMING SOON

Norman Bates

Norman Bates x Male reader You ask norman on a date, and you hate how the people of the town treat him

Norman Bates x Male reader [Requested]hiiii, could you do another norman bates oneshot? i really liked your first one! if you're up to it can you include some smut? if not then how about a sort of peephole scene?

Norman Bates x Male reader [Requested] hey can i ask a norman bates x reader with the addams reader? i totally understand if you're tired or something or writing that kind of reader so if you are then all i ask is basically anything with norman bates (though i do think a peephole scene would be mmmm)❤️

Norman Bates x Male reader [Requested]Hi! So I adore all of your Norman Bates fics but sadly there is not enough! So I would just like to request another smut one with a really seductive dom male reader who manages to seduce Norman and whatnot- does that make sense? Kind of like a succubus I guess but a male? Also if you could throw in a heap of praise kinks that would be fantastic!⚠️

Part two of this one ^^ Norman Bates x Male reader [Requested] Hi hi! I'm so grateful for all your fics because your writing is immaculate and I can never get enough about how talented you are! If it was okay with you, could I request another Norman Bates fic (once again haha) where it's sort of a continuation of the last fic with the really seductive reader but this time everytime he walks by Norman he whispers something rlly flirty/dirty in his ear ("Hey pretty boy" or "what a pretty neck you have, would look better with my lips on it" ect up to you). Just assuming Norman reaches his limit of flustered and just snaps eventually 🤷‍♂️

MORE COMING SOON

Patrick Bateman

Patrick Bateman x Male reader At first you thought your boss hated you with the way he acted, but it seems Patrick Bateman was just distant because of his rapid feelings for you, which seems to become more obvious as the days pass.

Patrick Bateman x Male reader [Requested] hello! may i please request a Patrick Bateman x reader with smut? something like him getting jealous and the reader -reminding- him that he only has eyes for him i think it might be fun to see Patrick still trying to act bitter while they're fucking but probably couldn't keep up the act for long 💀⚠️⚠️

Patrick Bateman x Male reader [Requested] can i request patrick bateman x reader where they are mutually kinda obsessed with eachother 😛 i don't really mind if you make it fluff/smut/a yandere sort of thing just whatever you're comfortable with!

Patrick Bateman x Male reader Patrick realizes how much he thinks you are much more perfect then him, he's practically obsessing over you, and if he can't be you, he wants to be with you.

Patrick Bateman x Male reader Just on a date with Patrick with some mild interruptions. --

Patrick Bateman x Male reader [Requested]Imagine railing the fuck out of Patrick Bateman after catching him flirting with one of his co-workers. Just railing him till he's a sobbing mess, begging for release knowing you won't give it to him until you've finished first.⚠️⚠️

MORE COMING SOON

Pinhead

Pinhead x Male reader Just some fluff

MORE COMING SOON

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms Heelshire x Male reader [Requested] Would it be possible to get some more Charles Lee Ray content or perhaps some Brahms Heelshire? Brahms has the perfect personality for some good bratty bottom content (and most likely he has a praise kink let’s be real) but for some reason people only seem to write him as a dom :(

Brahms Heelshire x Male reader [Requested] So I was kind of thinking like….. reader catching Brahms fingering himself and reader just goes absolutely feral when he sees Brahms Subby Brahms maybe? Idk it was just a thought⚠️

Brahms Heelshire x Male reader [requested] id like to request a oneshot with brahms since he's definitely my fav <3 something with like y/n being a sexy husband and brahms like totally obsessed with him not rlly smut but maybe like some thoughts about y/n from brahms lol

Brahms Heelshire x Male reader [Requested]Imagine: walking in on Brahms humping/grinding against a pillow, trying and failing to not moan your name too loudly; and getting railed ruthlessly after being caught⚠️

MORE COMING SOON

Joe Goldberg

Joe Goldberg x Male reader You meet Joe at a bookstore, god Joe would do anything for you, you weren't like Beck or Candace, you were so much better, you weren't his normal type, but he can settle for this, for you.

Joe Goldberg x Male reader [Requested] I just read your Joe Goldberg with Dominant Male S/o and I really like it so how about male reader blowing Joe's back out⚠️

Joe Goldberg x Male reader

[Requested] Imagine Male reader body worshipping Joe Goldberg in bed ⚠️

Joe Goldberg x Male reader [Requested]i was thinking something to do with him taking the readers stuff (like clothes or whatever) and getting off with it ⚠️

Joe Goldberg x Male reader [Requested] If you want to can you please do Joe Goldberg x Addams reader? Either first meeting the reader or meeting the family or both? I'm curious how Joe would react to being with a Addams family member

Joe Goldberg x Male reader [Requested] (sorry if requests are closed at the moment, feel free to ignore!) but i need more joe goldberg x addams! reader please. Joe is obsessed when you speak french to him especially in public when he can barely contain himself from jumping on you.

MORE COMING SOON

Male Carrie White

Male Carrie white x Male reader [Requested]You're a transfer student, to this school and see a boy getting bullied, but you notice something remakable about him, and you can't help but take an interest.

Male Carrie White x Male reader [Requested] the reader is a part of the Addams family, Carey takes an interest and so do you.

Male Carrie White x Male reader [Requested] Can I request more male!Carrie x reader? It's such a good idea and I just love Carrie <3 thank you! It can be smut or just fluff either or I don't really mind!

MORE COMING SOON

The Collector/Asa Emory

The Collector/Asa Emory x Male reader [Requested] Hi! Can I request Asa Emory or Jesse Chromskull with a cannibal reader who cooks for them? Like he's a househusband and they always have a meal for them when they get home? Thank you, have a nice day!

The Collector/Asa Emory x Male reader [Requested]Can I request The Collecter/Asa Emory with a cannibal male reader smut? Thank you!⚠️

The Collector/Asa Emory x Male reader [Requested] Smut! Asa Emory x His Favorite Collection Male Reader. Basically asa was obsessed with male reader but was pissed at male reader being married so he killed his wife and 'collected him' ig Idk if it makes sense⚠️

The Collector/Asa Emory x Male reader [Requested]Smut Asa Emory x Possessive Male reader⚠️

MORE COMING SOON

Leatherface(s)

Bubba Sawyer x Male reader Bubba just chilling with his fiancee, but some victims just have to always hit on his man!

MORE COMING SOON

Dracula(2020)

Dracula x Male reader You tell sister Agatha the tell of your stay with Dracula, but oh, it doesn't end there, Dracula wants his husband back.

Dracula x Male reader [Reqested] Could I request a Dracula fic pls, if you still write for him. Maybe a fluff and smut all romantic like but still rough? Imagine yourself as the reincarnated Husband of Dracula, and his lust in his every movement seems through and throughout, after all, he is a rather jealous creature who doesn't like to share what's his. ⚠️⚠️ -- Dracula x Male reader [Requested] if you can just make fluffy moments. No smut or anything like that but just Dracula and his lover enjoying each other’s company. Dracula prepares a soothing bath with rose petals and scented oils. He and his lover soak in the warm water, talking and enjoying each other's presence.

MORE COMING SOON

David Mccall

David Mccall x Male reader You're Nicole's big brother adopted of course, What happens, you meet David? He seems to be a little bit obsessed with you...well a little bit would be an understatement...⚠️ Part 2 ^^⚠️

MORE COMING SOON

Arthur Harrow

Arthur Harrow x Male reader He thought Ammit was the one he needed, but he was so very wrong. Arthur found a new god, he was going to worship, whatever it takes.

Arthur Harrow x Male Reader Falling and beginning to worship a god, that is Khonshu's close friend...wasn't a part of his plan. And somehow being able to kidnap the god in his human form, make it so much easier for Arthur.⚠️

Arthur Harrow x Male Reader

[Requested] i can I request for Arthur Harrow with a really possessive and rough reader]

Imagine, having Arthur as your Avatar(You're a god) and you find out he's trying to bring back Ammit, you are not pleased. Yandere S/o but also Yandere Arthur as well. Arthur is like a masochist in this one. Btw Kinda fluffy---But in a good way that it fits with the story

MORE COMING SOON

DARK!Edward Scissorhands

Edward Scissorhands x Male reader [Requested]Edward goes a 'little' psycho and ends up killing a lot of people, comes to realize that he was jealous because the towns people kept taking up your time.

MORE COMING SOON

Xenomorphs

Xenomorph x Male reader The world is being attacked/invaded by Aliens, called Xenomorphs, what happens when a group of male species of these aliens makes you their King after they find out you're their mate?

Kurt Kunkle (Spree 2020) Kurt Kunkle x Male reader [Requested]i had a dream u posted kurt kunkle fic thing and tbh now that's what i've been thing about all day 😭my skrunkly little virgin streamer <;33

Kurt Kunkle x Male reader [Requested] Can I request a Kurt Kunkle story where reader gets picked up and starts hardcore flirting with him and like leaning in closer and putting his hand on Kurt’s thigh as Kurt gets more and more flustered. He eventually puts a poll up to the chat asking what to do and everyone votes fuck, and he leans over to suck readers dick. I feel like he’d sound good gagging as we praise him for how good he feels as his chat is going crazy as this is happening⚠️⚠️

PART 2 OF THIS REQUEST ^^ Kurt rides the [Name]⚠️⚠️

MORE COMING SOON

Homelander

Homelander x Male reader You are a part of the Eight under the hero allies The Scarlet Warlock, and the most dangerous superheroes want you, even if it means revealing his feelings on live television in front of millions. Yes lol, powers of the scarlet witch from Marvel

Homelander x Male reader [requested] Can you do something smutty with Homelander plz??⚠️⚠️

Homelander x Male reader [Requested]More homelander fics pls: Vought recently presented their new Supe, and Homelander at first wasn't cheery about it...But it seems deep down Homelander carves his attention.YANDERE Homelander. VAMPIRIC READER

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair x Male reader [requested] Hi Hiii Can I get some Vincent Sinclair x Male Reader maybe smut?⚠️⚠️ -- MORE COMING SOON Black Noir Black Noir x Male reader [Requested}hiya i really liked your homelander fic and i wanted to request another one with him (or really any other character from the boys that you'd like to do lmao)

Black Noir x Male reader [Requested]could u make another part to that black noir one 🫶 idrc as far as nsfw goes i just love noir. You were a villain, a threat to Vought, but Noir just couldn't bring himself to kill his hunky villain.⚠️⚠️ MORE COMING SOON

Art The Clown Art The Clown x Male reader pt 1 After finishing up from a house party [Name] and his two female friends head to the diner where they meet a certain Clown, who seems to be infatuated entirely with You. And to say the least, Art the clown really wants to mate with you, he wants you to breed him. Not full on sex but leads up to it, Wanna part 2? DM me and we shall see

Art The clown x Male reader PT 2

MORE COMING SOON

Jerry Dandridge[1985]

Jerry Dandridge x Male reader You are Charley's older brother, who returned home from college just in time, to meet the new...vampiric neighbor. but you not only have a past but you are also connected to one another.

MORE COMING SOON

Predator/Yautja

Predator/Yautja x Male reader Male Yautja wants to breed with his human mate. ⚠️⚠️

Walter Deville

Walter Deville x Male reader [Requested] Hii would you write for Walter De Ville? getting married to Walter after killing his bride who was going to betray him..

1K notes · View notes