Okay, so I see you write some freaky things (/positive), and was wondering if you would be comfortable ranking who the biggest eaters are out of the creatures? It could even be just names with no description and I would be happy, but if not it’s okay to say no I understand!!!!
I channeled the monsters' POV for this and it made it only hornier. I should do that more often I think 🤔
Anywayy, we have, like, three seperate asks in one here—
With a mix of the Creatures favorite positions, times and ways to go down anddd whether they have long tongues 😏
All in all ->
Which Creatures are the biggest eaters
● Having you on your back, squirming and staring at him with those hazy eyes is an addictive sight. Whether he allows you your movement doesn’t matter. Though, tying your limbs down with your pretty legs spread wide open has him nearly high too.
● The Cowboy loves making you look as he takes you. He has thought about fucking you in front of a mirror more than once already. Then he could fuck you from behind and still see your face contort with pain and pleasure. With Ecstasy.
● Making you turn away while he plays with you has its own charms, he admits. You can only wait and see what he plans to do to you.
● But nothing can trump this. Your hands are tightly embedded in his hair. Pushing and pulling in equal measures. Those legs of yours tremble around his head, thrown back over his shoulders as they are.
● You just woke up, still soft with sleep, your brain barely starting up. So sweet and pliant. So easy to bend and move in place.
● You had tried to fix your need all alone the day prior, thinking he wouldn’t know. He simply prevented it from being… relieving. He had brushed against you, steered you with a calm hand, fingers rubbing in the small of your back, tantalizingly close to your waistband. He kept dipping his head close enough to tempt, but never touched the way you wanted. It heated you right back up.
● But he denied you. Let you go to sleep with him on your mind. Your fingers won’t satisfy you anymore now that he became the center of your frustration. And look at you now, willingly spreading yourself open for him the instant you awoke. He barely had to do anything to have you invite his tongue on your most intimate parts.
● He drags another slow stripe along your folds, drawing the quietest whimper from your lips. Your fingers curl insistently in his hair in an attempt to guide him to your sensitive bud.
● It only makes him smirk. He lifts your lower body up, chuckling at your small gasp. Your arms go to grasp on the blankets while he keeps your part-way in the air. Unable or unwilling to struggle.
● He goes to bury his tongue deep inside you, staring down at you. And you accept it, legs locking around his head until his world becomes warm wetness and your unique taste and scent.
● You’re so good for him, allowing him to hold you up, to take his time preparing you for more despite your sluggishness. He’d tell you if he wasn’t busy devouring you.
● All this time he’d been careful with you. Slowly helping you accept the inhuman aspects about him too. Let him show you a little trick no human could ever imitate. He can’t wait to see your face when his tongue delves deeper than ever before. The startled moan when you feel his tongue change within you, growing longer, thinner, deeper, makes him tighten his grasp on your thighs.
● The way you attempted to buck into the foreign sensation made him rumble against you.
● Tomorrow, he decides, he’ll make you sit on his face. He’ll show you what he can truly do with his tongue…
● Your frustration only has him slow down more. He has you on a chair with careful instructions to keep your hands on the armrests. He kept his gaze firmly on you, studying your every reaction. Smiley expects you to fail. And not too soon after he began, your hand grasped his hair, ruining the careful way he had styled it. You tried to steer him.
● He doesn't dislike your hands in his hair. Quite the opposite. But you agreed to the rules—no hands or he’ll stop. So by all means, he should stop licking at your pretty, wet slit. He doesn't really want to. He can adapt, he supposes. If you aren’t following the rules, you’re essentially changing them, right? He can too, then.
● His attention centers on your bud. So sensitive. So easy to stimulate to the point you’d try to push him away. He wasn’t going to overstimulate you, he had said. But you weren't going to grab his hair either.
● The second you begin squirming to get away, he snaps you up. Your wetness is still pressed to his face while he wraps you up in his arms, nails biting in your thighs and cheeks, lifting you, and pushes you against the wall.
● It had been the first thing he fantasised about when he first had you before him—properly, with no barrier between—how you’d taste. Your scent already drew him in. Your potential reactions even more. What if he had never shown his desires beforehand and pressed his mouth against you, instead of the claws and teeth you expected. How would you have responded? Would you still be scared? Excited? Angry? Ashamed?
● Whatever it would have been, right now, you were squealing, well on your way to become a mess. His little human. So stupidly of the belief you could continuously demand things from him. He had let you take charge too many times it seems.
● He’ll simply rectify that mistake. Keep you up and spread and filled, tonight. With his tongue for now, tasting parts of you nearly no one else would.
● Later he might place you down again, keeping you in place with his weight. He might just feed you his length, thrusting as deep as you could handle …Or maybe a little deeper still. Until he has you gag on him. He’ll keep his tongue on you, changing between short and flat and inhumanly long. But for now, he wants to see your pretty tears roll down your cheeks as pleasure becomes too much.
● She hadn't ever done this in her human life. The sensation of soft thighs around her face was wonderful. The warm wetness on her lips even better. But what made this perfect, was you.
● The way your hips stuttered against her. The breathy moans. The slick that kept pouring over her tongue with every lap. The Nurse couldn't get enough.
● It had filled her head so many evenings and mornings as she woke and went to sleep. She had touched her lips, trying to imagine what your wetness would feel like as it slicked up her face, sticking to her cheeks. What would another woman feel like, wrapped around her fingers?
● Once upon a time, when the time to find out finally came, she had fumbled a little. She knew where to lick, but not how fast or hard. Tried to mimic the way you lapped at her, but still let you guide her. And with the way she watched you like a hawk, she learned very quickly.
● She knew exactly what you liked now. But what she likes is the way you pull her in. The legs locking her in place as she lays before you, hands keeping her close and pressing her mouth to your folds, was something akin to heaven. She could break free if she wanted to, yes. But why would she?
● The only reason she’d remove your legs was to place you on top of her, your head aligned with her own desire, your legs splayed on both sides of her own head. The sight above her is prettier than anything she’s ever seen.
● She’ll admire you for a second, taking in what she’s about to devour. Then she’ll wrap her arms around you, hands on your cheeks, and keeps you still as her tongue splits into something inhuman. Slowly, she’ll delve her tongue inside you. Dragging it even slower against your inner walls as she removes it again.
● Even if you managed to lift yourself off of her, her long tongue would still be on you. She makes sure you can’t truly escape her attention. Bending her tongue to wrap it around your nub even as you hovered above her.
● You had teased her tonight. Chosen to forgo wearing panties, waiting for her to notice. You wouldn't be leaving now that she had. The short chase you led her into only heated her desire for you more.
● She loved how you grabbed onto her thighs as the pressure built within you. Loved how you tried to lick at her, only to be distracted by the pleasure, those sweet little sounds filling the air. Your first orgasm wasn’t enough. She needed more. More of the hormones she smelled coming off you when you came. More of the wetness dripping into her mouth.
● Ending the nights like this was akin to perfection. As dawn neared and sleep called, she made sure you’d be tired enough to join her, curled up sweetly against her.
How would the creature collective react to a monsterfreaker! reader, like would they be intrigued or scared? It doesn’t have to be freaky if you don’t it to be, you’re the one writing it, and you have the power /pos
Also I’m sorry I’m just really curious because I have never seen an x reader with a reader who’s a freak in this fandom
I have combined the two asks regarding monsterfucker reader, so we have the ask whether reader outfreaks the creatures and acts flirty, too! Or kinda unhinged, really…
I had fun making reader such a weirdo gwbdn
Hope you enjoy!
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How the Creatures would react to monsterfucker! reader + whether reader outfreaks them
● It wouldn't be obvious to them at first. While humans sometimes showed attraction to them, it was always to their human form. Not what lingered beneath. So they wouldn't guess that what interested you was what made them inhuman. Not the facade that let humans delude themselves the creatures were like them.
● Maybe you kept your interest a little grounded at first. To test the waters so to speak. But even then, you asked about their ‘other’ face quite a lot. Even to see it. Only to follow with more questions. Whether their skin was warm or cold. Whether they could taste or feel the way a human can. Or if breathing was necessary for them.
● You never really shied away from them. It suited them just fine. It would make you easier prey. Or so they believed.
● And of course it just so happens that you had a pretty solid room with sturdy walls. Your scent of arousal had no chance to drift towards them. They could only slowly come to realise certain things all by talking with you and studying your reactions.
● After some time you developed favorites. It was obvious in the way your eyes flickered up and down certain creatures, but only remained on the face of others. How your smile gained an edge whenever they neared, but with others it remained mostly polite.
● It solidified the idea that you were attracted to their human face. Why would they conclude anything else? They never really showed the other and all humans reacted with terror and disgust upon seeing it. You wouldn't be any different once your end came.
Meanwhile…
● You felt way too warm thinking about those creatures.
● Not because of their, admittedly, terrible human act. But everything they are. The human face and the one they rarely showed. You knew they were dangerous, of course you did. It horrendously only made them more appealing. Things you only ever fantasised about could be real if they just stopped being so murderous.
● That wretched interest showed itself through a plethora of questions. The only ‘safe’ way to interact with them, purely because there was a talisman in the way.
● Some questions were innocent enough. Others more akin to… whether they could lift up a person. And for how long. A very normal thing to ask murderous cryptics, you’d argue if anyone asked. Very sciency.
● And some Creatures were just so uncanny, so… attractive precisely because of it. That redheaded one. The lady with the headband. Those two tickled your brain all the right ways whenever they smiled their broad grins. Their facial muscles never faltered despite keeping the same expression for hours on end.
● “Do your muscles ever tire?” you asked the redhead one decisive evening. He had blinked, narrowed his eyes, said that “no, we don’t tire like you do.” And the images flashing through your mind would give Boyd a heart attack had he known.
● Why had that evening been decisive? Because you got drunk. Whatever it was you had said to the poor ginger, you weren’t fully sure, but it managed to wipe his smile off cleanly, an emotion close to shock widening his eyes. Something to do with the whole ‘holding someone up for hours on end’ and ‘turning you into an overstuffed cream bun’. Oh, and don’t forget the whole ‘putting those nasty teeth in your throat’ part.
● ...Oh well, with that out in the open, you figured it was time to come out clean and stop pretending.
With varying results…
● Smiley had initially believed you were just playing a strange game. What human would want his sharp teeth anywhere near them? Admittedly, you had always been a bit off. Curious, like him. It matched quite well. You’d ask him something and in return you’d answer a question of his own.
● He’d simply use that to his advantage and learn what you were doing… Once he had processed your words properly and the giddy excitement they instilled.
● He wasn't avoiding you, he was simply... thinking. He'll come back soon. Ready for this strange game to continue. He may not be fully aware of what a cream bun was, but he had a pretty solid guess. Maybe... he could see to extracting a clear answer—a direct answer to what you meant. No metaphors, but blunt, honest truth. He felt only more giddy at the many ways you might respond to that.
● Your next victim was a little more stupified. The Tough guy didn’t really speak, but he liked to watch you. You tended to ramble at him, acting like he was an active participant in the conversations. He did occasionally find himself nodding along or shaking his head in disagreement, pulled in by your hand movements.
● This evening was different. He studied your expression, your body language, lingering on parts he imagined squeezing between his fingers. You sighed melancholically, drawing his attention. You looked quite downtrudden much to his confusion. Watched him intently. “If only eyes could fuck,” you… bemoaned.
● He forgot to blink, becoming very still. Especially when a smirk crossed your face. “Isn’t that why you keep looking, big guy? Maybe you should use those claws to rip the wall apart. And something else,” you said with a wink, tugging on your clothes.
● That was… new. But it did help put a name to what he had been feeling. Those strange urges only you sparked within him. His eyes darted to where the talisman hung. If you were truly serious, maybe you’d willingly remove it. But he didn’t want that. He enjoyed the idea of hunting you far more. He had a feeling you’d think similarly. All he knew was that your smile excited him. And he wanted more of that.
● Your third victim was less amused. The Nurse wasn’t sure what to make of your suicidal requests. “So, like, the cap thing stays on right?” you slurred, clearly inebriated. That amount of alcohol in your system was unhealthy. You’d complain about being hungover tomorrow. “God, are you also so strong? That would be so hot.”
● Her brow ticked. The way you spoke sounded like you wanted to be… pushed around. With forceful claws. Not hands. Claws.
● What was she to do with you? She couldn’t take the bottle away from you. Nor could she stop the honest desires spilling from your mouth. Desires that made her fingers twitch, something hungry peering from behind her human face.
● It only spurred you on, eyes catching on the small signs of inhumanity like a hawk. “You’re soooo pretty, uugh.” Then you… slumping on your seat, legs splayed too far to be appropriate. Fast asleep. She’d sigh if she were human. There were others who wanted to see you tonight. She wouldn't let them. No, this sight was for her, she decided. Vulnerable and far too willing in the face of danger. It was only right she kept an eye on you while in such a state.
● The fourth Creature? He tested your claims. All those daring words. The cowboy found your claims almost adorable. Almost. It unfortunately so happened to stir up something darker that took even him by surprise.
● Your reckless behavior made him want to get his hands on you. Teach you some things about teasing monsters like them. Because that’s what you claim to want. The claws. The teeth. The danger.
● “You could leave such a nice ring of teeth on me here,” you said, pointing at your bare thigh. “How wide do you think it’d be?” Your pointer finger and thumb spread a wider over the soft flesh. “This big?”
● His sharp teeth clicked together, imagining it himself. Skin parting, blood flowing. Scabs forming and fading into a beautiful, pale scar. A reminder of who branded you.
● Your words tended to become almost musing whenever he showed his other face like this. As if you genuinely thought about it. Desired it.
● He also knew you believed they didn’t care to reciprocate your interest. You believed they wanted to kill you still. How wrong you were. That ignorance won’t spare you from their collective frustration once they get you.
You made such pretty promises…
In time they’ll find out how well you could fulfill them when they let animal instinct take over. Or whether it was mere bluffing all along.
BEE I WILL GOVE YOU MY SOUL IF YOU WRITE ANYTHING WITH BRAT TAMING SMILEY, ANYTHING ANYTHING ANYTHING
As for methods, I think that harsh edging followed by overstimulation with minimal skin contact/intimacy would do him in 😌
Especially if he wasn’t getting all of the attention he wants/isn’t occupying our mind fully while it’s happening
Y'all can't keep making my brain focus on the horny when I need to write these asks!! 😭
Anywayss, I already had something like this in mind. You all helped it gain form, you wonderful people >:)
Hope you all enjoy 😊
Brat!Smiley x Brat-tamer!Reader
Warnings: NSFW. Edging. Overstimulation. Descriptions of a dead bird. Blood.
Word Count: 1.796
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You don't fully understand how this dynamic developed.
The creature was inside your home. A house shared by innocent people who would take a leaf out of Town’s book and put you in the box, if they found out.
If they found out.
With the drunken shouting and loud laughter downstairs, they most definitely wouldn't. This room high up in the mansion was mostly just used for storage anyway. No one ever came here. And if they did, they wouldn't find a trace of what transpired.
You clicked the cuffs shut. A little too tight. Just as he liked. Then you traced a gloved hand over the arms twisted behind his back. Now bound to the chair. Tracing upwards, you curled them in his red strands, fingertips scraping gently over his scalp. Smiley leaned into the touch, craning his head back enough to meet your gaze.
The challenge there stirred something darker inside you.
He despised the gloves. Hated their softness when he craved the touch of your skin. It was exactly why you wore them tonight.
“You brought me a gift,” you said quietly, eyes darting to the eviscerated crow where you'd placed it on the table, a bloodied blanket underneath.
“I did.”
“And you put it on my bed.”
His smile grew impossibly wider. “Yes.”
Your fingers wrapped tighter in his hair, tilting his head even further back. He didn't flinch. Not when something like this couldn't hurt him. “And you thought that was smart? What if someone found it and started questioning things?”
“Then you’d have been mine.”
A smile threatened to break your stern facade.
You twisted away, just so he wouldn't see. Walking in front of him, you made a show of studying him. He had willingly removed all his clothes, slowly, never taking his eyes from you. Easily sat down on the chair and presented his wrists to you when you grabbed the cuffs.
He splayed his legs a little wider the second your eyes went lower. Already hard and leaking. You haven't even done anything yet. Carefully, you made your way over. His intense gaze no longer unnerved you like it used to. It made heat shimmer under your skin instead.
You reached out, slowly dragging a finger along his length.
“Guess you’ll have to be satisfied with being mine in the meantime.”
He merely kept grinning, his twitching member answer enough.
With a smirk, you lowered to your knees before him. The way he blinked showed just how much it confused him. You leaned in closer, pushing his knees wider apart. Lowering your head near his length, you let your breath hit it.
“Why did you bring me a dead bird?”
You trailed your touch up his thighs, watching his face carefully. His smile strained ever so slightly. It made your lips tilt up all the more.
“Hmm. You must really like knowing I struggled to carry it around. That I nearly got caught multiple times, trying to keep it hidden from sight while blood dripped down my arms.”
His hips bucked up, his member nearly brushing your lips had you not pulled back in time.
“Yes,” he hissed. “I want to see.”
"Too bad most blood is gone now.”
“I’ll bring another. Or…” His smiled turned sly. “You can use your own.”
A laugh escaped you. Then you quickly wrapped your fingers around him. Pumped roughly. “What if they had caught me and put me in the box? What would you have done?”
He took a second to answer, shoulders stiffer than before as your grip tightened around him. “I would've made sure they heard.”
Your heart sped up, breath rushing out faster at the idea. The smile on your lips turned innocent. Another slow pump had him shudder. “Why don't you do that right now, hun?”
His body leaped forward, teeth angled your way. But the cuffs held him back, upper body dangling halfway over you. “Take them off.” His voice turned rough.
Another chuckle left you. There was that impatience. You had been waiting for it.
“So needy.” You frowned. Released his length that would've been an angry red by now, had he been human. “And you've been doing so well."
That earsplitting grin faltered ever so slightly. He straightened stiffly. “I want to be inside you.”
“You won't be tonight.”
The glare he shot you would've frightened you in the past. But not with how he sat before you, naked and clearly painfully hard. He opened his mouth, only to stifle a groan when you grabbed his length again. With both hands this time. Twisting as you stroked along his cock. Slow and steady when he wanted it rough and fast.
“When you bring me a gift, I have to like it. Not you. So see this as your gift to me.” And to edge him along even further, you darted your tongue out once, licking along the underside of his head, his hips stuttering forward to delve deeper. Of course, you didn’t let him.
“Let me see how good you can be for me,” you purred.
And his muscles strained, fighting against the urge to break free. And he could. Easily, even. But your monster was far too willing to play pretend. Let you act as if you had any real power over him. You loved it. Made the resolve not to take him inside all the shakier.
Still you kept pumping. Slowly at first, watching how he twitched. Then faster, stroking how he wants it. With each rough pass, his hips met you, small grunts spilling from a fallen grin.
His hips bucked higher and faster, forcing you to quicken your pace. When he fell silent, eyes falling shut, you twisted your hand just a little harsher until he keened.
Then you let go.
Those blown eyes snapped open, lips parting in a deep growl that reverberated all the way through his chest. His teeth changed, sharpened. Darkened veins threading underneath his skin.
“You want to cum?”
Another growl rumbled from him, his eyes narrowing.
“Use your words, hun.”
“Yes. Inside you.” His eyes darted to the gloves. “Take them off,” he repeated, the slightest whine wrapping around the words. His features returned to his pretty facade.
“Good boy.” You relented a little. Took the gloves off slowly, peeling them off your fingers one by one. “But you’ll cum over yourself tonight. And then you’ll do so again.”
“Next time you want to leave such gifts, you leave them outside. Understood?"
His brows furrowed further, hips bucking towards your hand once it got close enough.
“Understood?” you repeated softly, fingers loosely wrapping around him, the shock of his heat on your bare skin making you lick your lips.
His grin returned sharply, eyes boring down at you. Smiley never gave in easily. Something that had you clench around nothing. Holding this much power over a being like him made you hotter than it should.
You smiled back, cupping his cheek gently. Simultaneously squeezing his length with a silent promise to make him understand. It made him jump, cuffs clinking with the motion.
“I think this is a far better gift than the crow. Don't you?”
His eyes narrowed, clearly goading you on with that twinkle glinting through them. You gripped him tighter, his member pulsing the harder you held him.
“No? I’ll just have to change your mind, then.”
You pumped him again. No longer gentle. But quick, making sure to pass his sensitive head tightly. He shuddered, muscles in his arms flexing. It didn't take much before his head fell back with a quiet moan, his member throbbing before spurts of white spilled up. One rope hit his belly, the rest sliding down his length and onto your hand.
A groan left you at the sight, longing to lick him clean. You wouldn’t. No, you kept moving along his length, your other hand joining. The last drops slipped free, beading down.
His head lolled forward, staring at the way you handled him. Brows furrowing the longer you kept going. You followed how his spend trickled down his belly, joining into the rapid movement of your hands. It slickened your hand, made it easier to slide up and down.
He jerked in your hold, thighs trembling. You bit your lip to stifle your own moan at the sight. His smooth skin never grew wet with sweat. His chest didn’t heave. But his smile failed to form, lips opened around a silent moan.
“Want me to stop?” you said between breaths.
His teeth gritted down at you, a haze overtaking his eyes. Pleasured. Pained. Both at once. He neared the brink again, body shaking. Wood creaked behind him, surely about to splinter under his grip.
But he didn't answer. It made you grin internally. Another time he failed to answer properly.
You stopped completely.
He snarled. Both in relief and in protest. You smacked his thigh, the sound of skin on skin loud in the empty room. It wasn't hard. It didn't need to be.
“I said you’d cum again.”
It made him freeze, toes curling into the floorboards.
“But next time,” you said, lowering your head to his length, fingers curling around his base, “I expect a proper gift.” Your lips swallowed up whatever he was about to say, turning his voice into a low keen.
He was too sensitive for the way you sucked on his head. Too sensitive to cum again.
It took longer than the first time. More whines falling from him, the chair creaking more and more until you were sure he’d shatter it. Your jaw began to hurt as you kept sucking, hand working the rest of his length.
But then he began pulsing. And you removed your mouth with a wet pop. Watched how he spilled over himself again. Less than the first time. Still too much to be normal. The cry that left him was perfectly quiet, body bowing as the orgasm rippled through him.
Afterwards he slumped forward, eerily still.
You gave him a moment. Even as your own core throbbed with want. Waiting until he moved again on his own. His head tilted, smile back in place.
A laugh startled out of you.
“Still want more?”
His grin twitched, something flashing over his face. “Yes.”
So this wasn't just for him. It was to challenge your self-control as well.
The smile that answered him might have been smaller, but was no less dark.
“Good. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum.”
The party still raged on downstairs. Perfectly capable of muffling anything that would happen up here. You were sure that Smiley would be too far gone to alert anyone once everyone finally slept.
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