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I shared this Badly Draw Yu Ran on Dislyte DC

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shoutout to worldbuilders inventing the most fuckable species of all time thats so cool of them

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But could you imagine being a hunter? Thinking you're about to grab some nice prey only to suddenly be knocked over, pinned down, with a deer boy standing over you? A large set of impressive antlers and ready to show you why trying to hunt him was a bad idea.

(Had to take a bit of extra time on this one. I had a better idea of how I would visually draw this prompt so it took me a while to figure out how to write it. Hope you like it anon!)

You really thought that you could take down a deer boy down. Proud hunter that you are, you assumed that deer were just like any other prey.

You leap onto a deer boy's back. Instantly he counters, swinging you forward. Everything slows. His antlers, now facing towards you, race towards your face. You lean back to avoid the crown of daggers. This is what he was planning for. The deer's strong hands grab you and use your momentum against you, throwing you onto your back and prone beneath him.

It only took a second for this deer boy to reverse the whole situation. You were meant to be on top, he was supposed to be the one terrified. This isn't how it's supposed to go!

"Overconfident," the deer boy scoffs at you.

Deer aren't easy prey, you know this now. You can see how toned he is now. He's athletic, he's strong, and he is absolutely radiating the joy of a predator who caught something worthwhile. The thought crosses your mind that this may not be the first time this deer has taken a hunter.

"Well, you know how this works. Arrogant hunters like you only learn one way," he grunts.

The deer boy lifts your hips to his throbbing member, slowly plunging himself into you. You jolt when you feel him bottom out deep within you. A moan passes your lips when you meant to growl.

You look back at the deer boy to see a smirk on his face. Instead of saying anything, he becomes more invested in exploring how you react to him inside of you, what sounds you make, how to make you shudder. You feel your thoughts erode away from the roiling sea of ecstasy flooding your body.

You're a hunter, well and caught by your own prey, and the whole forest knows it from the echos of your howling lust.

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wrapped up and pretty 🎀 - 👻

ghost would look so pretty in a nice bow hehe

Photo Credit: wintam0119 for winfarlab

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More alien thoughts:

So you know how fireflies glow in order to attract mates? What if there was an alien species that did that. They may be insectoid, they may not be, but in any case, they just flirtatiously light up at people they’re interested in. Or maybe they also just use it as a sign that they want to form friendly relations. So when they first meet other species they blink their lights at them to show them they’re friendly.

I was reading someone’s post about how a lot people dislike bugs but like fireflies because they glow. So maybe most humans warm up to them pretty quickly because the lights immediately make them seem more cute and appealing. Later, humans need to differentiate a friendly blink from a flirtatious one.

Meanwhile, a mimicking species also glows, however they use their glow to draw in prey (like a lantern fish does). Knowing that their sister species is peace loving and trusted by the other species, they use their similar luminescent abilities to their advantage. Space soon needs to learn to pick out little differences between the two species so they know what they’re getting into when they’re glowed at—do they think you’re cute or do they think you’re dinner?

Aaand because I love unlikely relationship dynamics, maybe in very rare occasions, the aggressive species actually does come to like a human/other species, but people have a hard time trusting them because of the general behavior of their planet.

I’m imagining a human with an aggressive glowing partner, and they’re introducing them to friends like, “Look, my partner is so cute! They glow at me! It was so cute how blinky they were when we first met!”

And then everyone is like “O.O That’s one of the homicidal ones…”

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Could I get some prompts for an alien and a human falling in love from opposite sides of a war?

Alien x Human (On Different Sides of the War)

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"Your people would kill me for this," the human whispered, their fingers brushing against the alien’s clawed hand. "So would yours," the alien said quietly. "Maybe we’re both traitors now."

"They told me you were a monster," the human said, their voice breaking. "And they told me you were heartless," the alien replied softly. "Funny how wrong they were."

"Why didn’t you kill me?" the human asked, wincing as the alien bound their wounds. "Because I couldn’t," the alien admitted. "I looked at you, and I saw someone who might understand what it’s like to want peace."

"You’re risking everything just by being here," the alien murmured, their voice laced with a strange blend of fear and tenderness. "So are you," the human replied. "But I’d rather lose it all than never see you again."

"You know this can’t end well for either of us," the human said, tears threatening to fall. "I know," the alien replied, stepping closer. "But for a moment, can we pretend it doesn’t matter?"

"You shouldn’t care about me," the alien said, their voice a strange, musical echo. "Then stop making it so impossible not to," the human replied.

"Do you think they’ll ever let us be together?" the human asked. "No," the alien said, their glowing gaze steady. "But I’d rather fight the whole galaxy than give up on you."

"If I take you back to my people, they’ll see you as a prisoner," the alien warned. "And if I go back to mine, they’ll see you as a trophy," the human replied. "Maybe it’s better if we stay lost together."

"Your touch shouldn’t feel this... natural," the human whispered, their hand resting against the alien’s chest. "And yet it does," the alien replied, their voice trembling with something that could only be described as longing.

"If they find us, they’ll kill us both," the alien said, their tone serious. "Then we’d better make every second count," the human replied, pulling them closer.

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Okay so hear me out. Alien who is very close with their human crewmate, and is used to you smelling like the various products humans use for personal hygiene. This is perfectly fine, maybe they even grow an attachment to your preferred brands of deodorant and lotion, but it leaves them completely unprepared the first time they smell your unmasked body odor and realize oh yeah, humans are very sexual creatures and produce pheromones accordingly. It's the alien equivalent of seeing someone you already like half-naked and having an "Oh no they're hot" moment, except you don't even realize the effect you're having on them because you just got done training or woke up from a very sweaty nap and just want to shower.

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[alien] Bruk'x

alien!Bruk'x x human!Reader Good to know: male masturbation

Summary: You drive Bruk'x crazy without knowing about it.

Bruk'x resists the urge to follow you out of the mess hall and through the long, echoing corridors of the base back to the wing that you and the other humans have been occupying since your arrival. You are always there, always busy with one thing or another. Your work ethic and excitement are like a fire he cannot look away from. Even when he cannot understand your language, he finds himself captivated by the rapid, animated way you speak with your co-workers. Your voice rises and falls in rhythms unfamiliar to his ears, and your hands move as if your whole body is involved in the conversation. Every emotion flickers across your face, so expressive and so different from his own people, and each nuance draws him in, holding him spellbound.

Ever since you arrived on his planet as a scientist, seeking the military's help to explore uncharted territory, his mind has been tangled with thoughts of you. Your enthusiasm and your questions, which seem to never quiet your always racing mind, amaze him. Bruk'x can never quite predict what you’ll ask next, and he finds it amusing. It feels as if there’s always something you are eager to discuss, always a new curiosity sparking in your eyes. And it seems to him that you are always working. He never sees you in the simple, casual clothes the other humans wear from time to time. Instead, you wear black pants, a white shirt, and a matching lab coat that never looks quite clean. There is always something on it, a telltale mark that reveals what you've spent your day doing.

Today, blue stains speckle the fabric and smudge your fingers, unmistakable evidence of your work with the ink-blue flowers that grow in the shadowed parts of their world and leave stains that last days. You even approached him about it earlier. Your brows were slightly furrowed in worry as you held up your hands. Your accent was thick but charming as you struggled with his language. Are you sure it will come off? Bruk'x chuckled and nodded, offering you a warm smile as you gazed up at him. You always listen to him with such intent that it makes it all too easy for him to imagine you looking at him the same way for other reasons. In his mind, instead of asking him about his home and people, you ask about him for more than scientific reasons. Your white, blunt teeth flash in a smile as you laugh at something he says, and your small, human eyes crinkle at the corners, framed by those dark circles that have worried him ever since he learned they are a sign of lack of sleep for humans. It’s so easy for him to imagine that you might be genuinely interested in him, maybe even needing or wanting him.

Bruk'x grapples with the cultural rules that bind him day after day. In his society, it’s customary for females to make the first move, a tradition he can neither forget nor dismiss. He cannot reveal his interest in more than a few kind gestures, and although you respond to his small displays of affection, you do not take it further, driving him to the brink of sanity.

The night presses on, but Bruk'x stays at his table in the dimly lit mess hall, long after his mates have retreated one by one to their quarters or the night shifts that await them. It’s late, and the base has settled into a hushed calm, with only the faint hum of machinery and the occasional shuffle of feet echoing in the corridors. His own duties are over, but he clings to the hope of seeing you again, of catching one last glimpse of you today.

He knows you are likely still deep in some task, your mind so engrossed that you’ve lost track of time. He can almost picture your tired, determined eyes scanning the shelves in the lab, one hand absentmindedly pushing a strand of hair from your face as you murmur to yourself in your own language.

He glances up whenever he hears a faint sound near the doorway, hoping it’s you. You’ve made a habit of sneaking out to the mess hall, sometimes in the dead of night, to find a leftover snack or something warm to drink. He’s caught you more than once, your eyes bright with a mischievous glint as you riffled through supplies, muttering to yourself about how little food humans need compared to his kind, and why that somehow doesn’t stop you from needing just one more bite before bed.

He shifts in his seat, the ache of his long day forgotten as he imagines what he might say to you if you show up. He might pretend he came here simply to unwind, just another coincidence, or he might let slip a small comment about the strange customs of humans who work so late. He often wants to say more, but he knows he must tread carefully.

Soon, his Captain, Carmek'x, appears at one of the doors, which slip apart with a quiet, hissing sound as he steps inside. Bruk'x watches him approach, his four long arms moving in perfect sync with each quiet, measured step. Despite his broad, muscular frame, Carmek'x moves with a surprising elegance, gliding around the tables until he stops in front of Bruk'x. The dimmed lights cast a faint glow over his skin, a deep blue that almost matches the shade of your fingertips, still stained by the flowers you collected today.

The big alien halts at the table, raising one eyebrow in a familiar, questioning gesture. Bruk'x knows that his captain picked up the expression from a certain nurse on base, but he says nothing.

"Everything alright?" Carmek'x asks, his voice low and calm. Behind him, the long, ropelike strands that cascade from his head, weapons than what you and your people would call hair, shift restlessly. The protective plates at the ends click together every now and then as a subtle reminder of their strength.

"Long day," Bruk'x replies, his tone weighted with unspoken thoughts.

Carmek'x regards him with a knowing look, and Bruk'x meets his golden eyes without flinching. They both know what the other is thinking, though neither says it aloud. "Be patient."

Bruk'x only nods in a silent acknowledgment. With the way things are and the unspoken rules binding him, patience is the only option he has.

When he finally retreats to his room, Bruk'x feels as though he has been running circles around the base for hours. Exhaustion settles deep within him, dragging through his limbs like a weight he can't shake off. His mind feels fogged. You are so tightly tangled in his thoughts that no amount of distraction seems enough to get rid of you.

With a deep, resigned sigh, he sinks down onto his bed, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to push the image of you away for even a moment. But it doesn't work. He isn't even surprised. You linger in his mind, vivid as ever. He images your uniform, messy hair, and bright, curious eyes. He can almost feel the warmth of your arm brushing against his as you lean in to speak. Your accent is thick and heavy in his ears. You always stand so close, digging through your pockets for those small scraps of paper you use to scribble down your questions or ideas because otherwise, you forget them within a few minutes. He almost smiles to himself, remembering how eagerly you jot down everything you want to discuss with him later.

Your scent drifts through his mind too, that strange brew you call "coffee" mingling with the earthy fragrance of the plants and soil from his world, clinging to you as if they are a part of your very being.

His four arms lie tensely at his sides, twitching and fidgeting restlessly, not quite sure what to do as his imagination wanders. He can almost feel himself reaching for you, his hands moving of their own accord, yearning to pull you closer. In his mind, he buries his head into the curve of your neck, breathing in your warmth, letting your softness lull his racing mind. He imagines you tilting your head slightly, instinctively giving him the space to press his lips to your bare skin, so soft and vulnerable. It strikes him how much you trust, how effortlessly you embrace the unknown, and how your vulnerability seems to bother you so little. It unsettles him. You often seem so careless with your own safety. The thought of being the one who guards you, who ensures you’re safe, cared for, and treasured, surges within him. A need to protect you stirs within him, an instinct stronger than any he’s known. His hands move instinctively, his breathing deepening as the thought of holding you close consumes him. How would you feel against him? You’re so soft and smooth, so delicate compared to the solidity of his own form. His chest rises with every labored breath, longing coursing through him. If only he could hold you in his arms, feel your heartbeat against him, grounding him in a way nothing else could.

His cock throbs insistently, pulsing against the rough fabric of his uniform, which suddenly feels unbearably tight. Every seam and stitch seems to scratch at his skin, igniting a strange, burning itch across his body. Almost instinctively, his arms move, fumbling to shed his clothes quickly. One by one, his garments fall away until his cock springs free, hard and glistening with pre-cum. It juts out, slapping against his abdomen.

Every image of you that flashes through his mind sends a new wave of need surging through him, making him ache.

He wonders, no, he craves to know what you would look like without your clothes. Would you be like the human women he saw in the images his comrades pulled up? The memory makes his cheeks burn with an embarrassed heat. When they heard about humans coming to their lands, some of his mates eagerly searched for information about your kind. It didn’t take long before they uncovered pictures and videos of human women, bare-skinned and open. Are you as soft as you appear? Would your skin yield beneath his touch, pliant and warm? He growls low in his throat, driven by the thought. His large hand trails down his taut abdomen, grasping the base of his cock with a firm grip. The shock of his own touch makes his hips jerk forward involuntarily. He wants it. He needs it. Would you like him to take your nipples into his mouth like those in the videos? He would love nothing more than to feel your delicate hand at the back of his head, guiding him down, pressing his face to your chest. His mouth waters at the imagined taste of your skin. The honor of pleasuring you overwhelms him. He pictures you arching your back, pushing yourself against him, allowing him to worship your body.

His hand starts to slide up and down along his length, his fingers spreading the pre-cum across his thick shaft.

He wonders what you would think of him, of his cock. In the videos, he noticed how the human males seemed… softer, even at their hardest. His mates laughed at this, baffled at how these humans could protect themselves. Would you be disturbed by his hardness, or would it spark your curiosity as he’s noticed so many things do? A rough chuckle escapes him, hoarse and pathetic. The sound vibrates in his heaving chest. Would your soft hands explore him, tracing every ridge and scar, lingering over the roughness of his cock? He’s certain you’d be fascinated. He can imagine your curious gaze, the same one you use when studying every new thing in his world, directed at him. He would let you examine him, ask your never-ending questions, and touch him wherever you wanted. He’d answer all of them, body strained, tense as a bow, fighting not to snap from the pleasure.

His hips buck upward, thighs hard and trembling as he braces himself on his bed.

Would you let him do the same to you? Would you let him part your thighs and taste you, take you apart slowly, carefully? He’d have to be so patient. He would need every inch of his restraint to make sure you were ready. Patience isn’t his strong suit, but for you, he’d find it. He can picture you pressed against the bed or even splayed across his chest, letting him take his time. He’d be careful and slow, watching every reaction to make sure you could handle him, each movement more controlled than the last.

Since he’s met you, he’s watched more videos than he’d care to admit, scouring for any glimpse of a woman who resembles you, seeking to understand what human men do to pleasure their mates. He'd told himself it was just curiosity, but he knew he wanted more. He wanted to know what you’d sound like, feel like, if you’d arch and gasp when he finally touched you. Would your body feel as soft as those women looked? And how would you taste? The thought of you on his tongue makes him groan, swallowing hard as he imagines your warmth and scent enveloping him.

His hand tightens as he picks up the pace, squeezing every so often to prolong the rush building at the base of his spine.

He would ask you to sit on his face, pressing yourself down so he could savor every inch of you. The mere thought makes him groan. The sound is thick with desire. He is a sergeant, used to commands and obedience, and he would gladly submit to your every need. He’d let you lead, eager to follow your guidance and surrender to your desires.

And when it was time… how would you want him to take you? Would you prefer to be taken from behind, or would you want him to press you against the wall, holding you in place as he pounded into you? Or maybe, you’d want to ride him, allowing him to watch every expression cross your face, every bounce of your body, each gasp you’d make. He imagines the feel of your body; tight and wet, gripping him so perfectly, pulling every ounce of his essence from him as though you couldn’t bear to let him go. He’d give you everything he had, and after that, no other male would ever be enough.

His jaw clenches, his teeth grinding as the edge nears, imagining how you’d feel wrapped around him, tight and hot, squeezing every drop out of him. He’d make sure to give you everything, to show you that no other could satisfy you the way he could. No other man would ever compare; he would make sure of that.

Would you bite him, marking him with your blunt, human teeth? He hopes so. He imagines your teeth sinking gently into his neck, marking him, or your nails scratching down his back, leaving a trail of evidence that he’d carry with pride. Would you even be able to draw blood? The thought alone nearly undoes him.

His hand moves faster, hips thrusting up as he chases his release. His imagination runs wild, painting vivid scenes of you in every position. You’re breathless, naked, and beautiful in each one. The vision is too much. His release crashes over him like a wave as a hoarse shout tears from his throat. The sound is raw and guttural. His body convulses, muscles tightening and shivering as his climax pulses through him. Thick ropes of his cum spill over his hand and across his abdomen, leaving him a panting, trembling mess. He keeps thrusting into his grip until he can’t bear it anymore, finally collapsing back against the bed, every ounce of strength spent.

It takes Bruk'x a long time to gather himself, his body heavy and his mind muddled. The satisfaction he felt moments ago has already faded, replaced by the gnawing frustration that seems to cling to him no matter what he does. It drives him to madness, a helpless ache that no release can seem to soothe.

He sighs and prepares to return to bed, hoping that sleep will come, but his thoughts are interrupted by a loud, insistent knock on his door. He frowns, annoyance tugging at his expression when the knock echoes again, followed by a familiar voice.

"Captain?" Bruk'x calls, swinging the door open to reveal the other alien standing there.

Both of them look disheveled, faces flushed and breathless, but neither of them acknowledges it.

Carmek'x gaze is intense. "Forget patience," he says. His voice is clipped and direct.

Bruk'x stares, confused. "What?"

"Human women," his captain explains, his tone laced with frustration and perhaps a touch of irritation. "They work in different ways. Patience be damned."

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You can dive into Carmek'x's story and explore many others I've shared throughout the year on my Patreon, with even more exciting content coming this month.

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"You're perfect for us," growled while pinned between two monsters

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werewolf!ex-boyfriend who you've been out of a relationship for the last couple of months. werewolf!ex-boyfriend who can't get over you, who doesn't want to get over you. werewolf!ex-boyfriend who becomes dangerously obsessed with you, because you belong to him, he's already laid his claim on you. werewolf!ex-boyfriend who stalks you all over town. werewolf!ex-boyfriend thinking of ways to win you back. werewolf!ex-boyfriend who becomes desperate when you move on to someone else. werewolf!ex-boyfriend who follows you home from work one night. werewolf!ex-boyfriend who drags you into an empty alleyway, covering your mouth. werewolf!ex-boyfriend who whimpers and pleads, humping against your thigh. "just the tip, that's it. you don't mind, right?" ˙◠˙

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The first time you ever laid eyes on the the handsome older orc was a day prior while he was fixing up the porch to your neighbors house. While the man was taking a break you couldn’t help your curiosity as you made your way over seeing your neighbor inspecting the work. You waved and they smiled and waved back.

“So, who was that guy?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Oh, Farah? He’s just a local handyman. I needed some work done and he was looking for some work so I figured I’d give him a go.”

“Mind giving me their number? I could really use some work done inside the house.” You lie through your teeth. You didn’t need any work done, if anything you thought your house was perfect, but that didn’t stop you from calling up the number the next day and asking for assistance for a non existent problem that now lead you to the position you were in now.

Head pressed against your pillows with your ass in the air as Farah greedily pounded into from behind. His hand at the gape of your neck keeping you pressed firmly down and the other on your hip in a bruising grip.

“Such a dirty little slut, calling me to fix something in your room just so I can fuck you. Do you do this to every orc you see?” He huskily says into your ear, not stopping his brutal pace.

“No! Just you! Fuck!” You groan as a knot starts to form in your stomach.

He lets go of your neck and reaches in front of you to rub your clit. That’s all it takes to make you snap. You clench down hard on him as you cum and he bites down gently on your shoulder at the feeling of you tightening around him. You start to slouch down but he’s quick to pull you back towards him.

“You think we’re done here? Far from it since you wanted to waste my time.” He growls.

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I feel like bear hybrid x reader is sooooo underrated like i want a giant fluffy chubby man to lift me up like im a paperweight and carry me to the bed like im a baby then cuddle the shit out of me til i fall into the best slumber ive ever had in my life,

like i want a bear hybrid to carry me around on his shoulders so i can like hug his giant head thats the size of my torso,

and i wanna COOK WITH HIM, they are foodies and you know it, specialty being fish dishes obvi,

bears are one of the best examples of “if not friend why friend shaped?”

Imagine squishing a bear hybrids chubby cheeks (face cheeks u filthy animal)

Just imagine laying down with him and running your hands through his fur while his big tummy goes up and down with his loud deep breaths while he sleeps,

Also also also imagine how protective he would be, but like mature protective not animalistic protective, like for some reason i see bear hybrids being mature? 😭 not where he will growl at guys who come too close but instead, he can tell when your uncomfortable with someone or with a situation so he wraps his big arm around your waist and scowls at the person as a warning, or just picking you up and walking away to remove you from the situation as a whole

Sorry just a lil rant, i can never find anything new on bear hybrids its so underrated ✊😔

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Cuteness agression but sexual style as in someone is just too sweet and cute and all I want to do is hold them down and bite and bruise and turn them into a whimpering mess

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a LOT of kink content on tumblr is fantasy and does not reflect what kink should actually be like. it is totally ok to be turned on by these fantasies and it's good to incorporate them into your sex life in safe ways. however a lot of the hot hardcore kink scenarios that make it seem like everything was spontaneous are not necessarily lying to you, but they are leaving out the "before" part. kink requires a LOT of discussion and communication. you should not forsake this part of kink because you wanna get to sex immediately because the before and after of kink are just as important, if not more, than the during.

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Consider, perhaps, my fangs clamped around the scruff of your neck, my claws digging into your hips, holding you so tight there’s no possible hope of escape. Your little cunt stretched around my thick werewolf cock, slick with arousal as I force orgasm after orgasm out of you, your whimpers and begging just exciting me more and making me fuck you harder. My knot pounding against your entrance, easing deeper and deeper with every thrust until I finally force it into your pussy with a wet pop, the head of my cock pressed against your cervix as I pump you full of hot, thick cum. Me licking the tears off your cheeks and whispering gentle praises to you and telling you how much I love you while you’re tied around my knot, because you were such a sweet, obedient breeding pup for me.

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John Price in the mornning.