#honeycomb monster

[queenofshippingcringe]

Look I’m just saying if @sexypeople-contests-2025 included these three it just wouldn’t have been a fair competition.

Even less fair if they included… ✨ them ✨

✨💞 Honeycombs Monster My Beloved 💞✨

[luridon]

Honeycomb

If the height of happiness means death, then he's died a thousand happy, mundane ends by your hand

♡characters: yandere!bee x fem!courier!reader

♡warnings: MINORS DNI, blood, murder, victim-blaming, bugs, this may or may not be some alien/fae thing or just a supremely odd concubine sorta dude who thinks in bee metaphors of all things, MINORS DNI

♡notes: I was gonna put yandere!drone but that could have set false expectations of a robot. This is not about robots this is about bees, no explicit smut but questionable vibes abound, why do I keep writing about bugs

♡w/c: 900+ | ♡masterlist♡

He's harmless.

Something soft and tender, a lover who hasn't known anything but such a life. Something raised precious, given a large room and the sweetest, choicest food. He never learned how to work, beyond the lightest tasks. He never had to. He was supposed to find a queen, and he was to die as he lay with her.

He was born too late for that.

Winter came, and he was cast out by his kin. The sisters that fed and raised him now sent him to die. He would be a burden to the hive otherwise. When he tried to return, they threw him out again. When he tried once more, they chewed away his wings, the only way he had ever been of help to anyone, even if it was a mere task of casting a breeze for his kin.

He was born too late to die happy, and so he would die by the cold, abandoned for being too soft, too tender, too useless, even if he was raised as such, even if he never had a choice but to be so.

He cannot work. He cannot fight. He only knows how to be pretty, and even that has been ruined by the scars from his forceful exile.

He's harmless, so you take him in.

You're a traveler, a messenger, a courier for messages that require the utmost secrecy. In the lull between delivering the words of the elite, you find your pleasures in the pretty sights you see in your travels, and in mundane messages between the common folk.

He is something small and light. It is not difficult to take him with you to southern lands, away from his cold kingdom. You share with him your modest fare, your warmth on cold nights, your words until he understands them, though his mouth cannot quite form your language.

He's a pretty thing with big, dark eyes and soft fur. He's a clever thing, quick to learn, to understand. He is useful the moment he can be, a watchman on dark nights, with his glimmering gaze and the knife you gave him. His frame, thin and frail from the elements and his abandonment, fills out under your care, and he grows to tower over you, and help you carry your heavier loads.

He is useful, isn't he? He is. He has to be, or you will tire of him, and cast him aside.

He will work. No matter the burden or trial or task, he will succeed or die trying. You say you have no such burdens, but he vows it all the same, with his odd, chittering tongue.

He will bite. He will fight with fang and the stinger you gifted him. He will rend and tear until nothing remains of whatever beast may come, and bring you the spoils so that you can praise him for his good work.

He will be soft and pretty if that's what you prefer, something soft and warm to hold onto when the day is long and hard, and you'd like more of a pet than a person to soothe your strife.

It must be his nature that he prefers the last of these. That despite however much he thinks he may have grown from what fate had for him, what he likes best is to be held close by you-

How could he not adore you though? You who saw such a useless creature and deigned to give him the time to learn. How could he not think you as anything but worthy of all his paltry love? You are his wings, his sun, his queen, and he thinks sometimes, of how he was meant to die in the peak of bliss, but that even a peaceful moment just by your side is something that he revels in far beyond any memory of his indulgent youth. If happiness is death then he has died a thousand, ten thousand, a hundred thousand times since you found him, from every moment that he is in your presence, your stern care and steadfast patience that pushed him to change.

It has to mean something, doesn't it? That you have built him up into such a being, a creature strong and capable, that you crafted him with such a heart that beats for you alone. All he is, then, all he does, then, is something born from your own doing, to turn him into this.

Whatever he breaks could only be so destroyed because you fed him until he was strong. Whatever he builds could only stand because you encouraged him to learn. Whether his hands are dyed red by beast or man, they are offerings to the one who pressed the dagger into his palm.

If you end up alone and trapped, unable to use the legs you loved to travel with nor see the sights you so adored, if you can do nothing but drown in the sweetness that you drew out from him, are you not in a cell of your own creation?

He was only a harmless thing until you took him, and helped him become more.

Perhaps your patience will wear thin before then. Perhaps you will strike him with your own present, tear yourself away from him like his wings once were, banish him from sight and cast him out of your warmth and into the cold again-

But even if you choose to end his life, why wouldn't he be glad to die at your hand? Why wouldn't it be his greatest joy to give you even a little happiness through the only thing he can give?

After all, his life was already yours to take, and he was always meant to perish by his love for his queen.

♡ a/n: Shout out to @monstermunchmurder whose tags and replies and asks have single-handedly given me the motivation work on some wips I had for this blog. Um. Hope you don't mind being tagged on the bee one?

[teatime-tangents-and-toys]

So guess who hates confectionery now? My little immersion project for an upcoming doll review (no guesses who) cost me five+ hours of time, a bag of sugar, a small thumb burn, and copious frustration. I should have given up on integrity and made this a clay prop (and I can, for a version I can keep), but I really wanted it real! Stay tuned!

[just-a-mod]

“...I-i don’t wan-want it...i-i want to h-help” she could only weakly breathe, like a child trying to refute a bad dream

a part in an RP my lovely lady Zalla is currently in

the cool-colored arm holding her cheek belongs to @honeycomb-cacube

[sheliesshattered]

I have been begging game developers to use colors besides brown and gray for literally more than two decades now

but that doesn't mean I want a whole generation of games that look and sound like a fuckin 1990s sugary breakfast cereal commercial

[sakuraandscales]

So the bee was on her way to mad science levels of risk? That's fucking stupid. Didn't you learn anything from Egg-bitch's meddling?

"I know! Okay?! I know!"

The honey bee takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly to calm herself. "You don't understand... We were desperate... Vel and Copter were still missing, we were losing people left and right. I could keep bots out of the swamp but there was nothing I could do for the forests around Knothole! They were too far away... We needed an edge. SOMETHING to give us the upper hand...

I knew that the Dragon Kingdom had ties to the ancient monsters of the distant past. Not dinosaurs, no... real monsters. The kind you hear of in myths and legends, the ones who's genes are what give super powers to the lucky few."

"I was just a kid trying to save her home...I didn't fully understand what I was meddling with. I just thought....if I could figure out what dormant genes everyone had inherited from their ancestors....then I could find a way to activate those dormant abilities! Come to learn not everyone has them...but I was so determined to try ANYTHING that could help that I didn't care! I was about to start synthesizing a serum to awaken those dormant genes....When I had a wake up call.

I saw Espia going full Dragon's Rage mode and the cost it had. She was bedridden for weeks due to the physical toll on her body. I was so scared....that I was going to lose the only parent I had ever known. It was terrifying...and taught me an important lesson. Modern day Mobians are not physically built for the power of the past....

"So....I shut it all down. My experiments, formulas, research....I archived all of it. Scrapped the serum formula so it could never be used. My lab is now more so meant for cleaning fossils and turning whatever I learn into holographic projections of what those creatures might have looked like. I am....ashamed of the fact that I came so close to crossing that line....I'm sorry that I ever dared to risk such a thing."

[deltarune-au-domain]

Honeycomb Ralsei helps with the kids.

[terrascosmicstartover]

On planet Monda Zoper, the diners serve up stuff that has a real sting to it.

[sakuraandscales]

"Well....she's more comfortable with you guys." Adam shrugged as he was honest with the tenrec. "Folks back home see her as one bad day away from snapping. She's shut down a lot in the last few years, she quieter...more withdrawn. She was so close to creating something grand...but then the words of others got to her and she shuttered the whole project. She got hurt when with you guys yeah...but you were able to save her life by being there with her. One way or another... Metal would have gone after her and everyone thought that thing was shut down, you couldn't have known one was in there. It's not your fault she was attacked Surge, that's Eggma'am's fuckery and no one elses."

He smiled at Surge as he gave her those honest words of facts, it wasnt her fault. It was just supposed to be a normal day of wrecking a factory if he remembered Charmette rambling about it. It was damn tragic though that the little bee, felt safer with literal bioweapons than the common folk of her home town. "And I'm starting to see why she likes you too despite your growling. In an admiration sort of way. You look out for her and Kit both, that's really all Charmet–Nah. All Swarm needs to consider someone a friend. Wether you like it or not!"

Adam laughed lightly after pointing out the chip in the tenrec's emotional armor. Then took a breath and let it out slowly to calm himself down.

"Anyway.... We've been standing up here long enough, you still wanna go get that bite to eat? No sense lingering on things that can't be changed!"

================================================

Charmette settled back while she let Kit process her words and actions. This was all new, for both of them. They'd been friends for a while at this point even though she didnt see him as often as she would have liked. She valued him for who he was, every broken and put back together peice. She had a lot to learn about him she was sure, but she was willing to be here to find all that out. Love was...still something she knew little about herself. More time would be needed for both of them.

As for...her medications... Her antenna drooped when it was brought up. "....You and I aren't all that different initially. Just made for different reasons. You a weapon and me...well, a factory for weapons is probably the closest comparison I can make. I was likely made to be a bargaining chip with another hive or as a replacement for the current queen. Either way...my intended purpose is disgusting...and I hate it."

Her hands were now resting in her lap, curling into tight fists as she came clean about her origins. "My hypnosis is meant to turn soldiers and workers against their own hives. I saw it in action the day I met you....Surge had no reaction to my mist. Only you did. Seeing your conscious mind vanish like that....I-I never want to see it happen again! I was so scared...that I had done something I couldn't take back! I saw part of myself that scared me that day...so as I got older, I started taking hormone suppressants to stop any developing queen traits in my body."

"For a time...it worked. I stopped growing, my antenna stopped giving off pheromones, my venom became as potent as a soldier bee's..." She had been happy then, she was finally going to be the bee she wanted to be....but alas one cant fight millions of years of engineering. "....but even before the battle with Metal, something was wrong. While I was in the hospital, I got a check on my functions. The suppressants weren't working anymore. Slowing the hormonal changes down but not stopping them entirely...my kind are called Killer Bees for a reason. A single queen can wipe out entire hives or towns and we hold grudges forever. I don't want to be that kind of person..."

She looked up at him now, she was still afraid...but she trusted him and Surge to keep her in check. Just as she tried to help them when she could. Even though....Surge metaphorically pushed her away. It was fine. She knew she could count on them to keep her from losing it entirely.

"I don't know what Starline gave you Kit...but I want to help you." She looked at her gloves and removed them, setting them aside as she offered her hands to him once again. "I know all of this must be overwhelming for you...but you won't be facing it alone. I know a thing or two about biochemical engineering, between us both we can figure out something to help your mind. And...if you ever just want to talk about what's going on or just have someone listen to you...about anything.... I wouldn't mind being that person you confide in. I don't know if I'll be able to make the voices stop fully...but I can help provide you support in handling them."

Her eyes looked so distant and lost and almost vulnerable for a second. She had all this power but under all the quips and those wicked teeth she was really just as lost as Kit was. Her worry for the little guy was really weighing on her something fierce. Despite what she might say or the face she put on Surge was in territory she knew nothing about. How could she? she wasn't made for kindness or caring --- She was a War Machine, and in that she was excelled beyond what anyone could imagine! but right here? right now? in this situation? she had no tools for this battle...

The nudge seemed to make her stiffen up as if she might throw him off the balcony for daring to touch her! but that was just the program in her head seeing everything as a threat. It wasn't easy just letting him and charmette went against all the shit in her head, but maybe that's why she did let them in. Because she was through listening to his voice screaming at her all the time.

" Eh, well ... He's changed since he met her... for the better. I mean you know before Charmette came along... he was pretty obsessed with making me happy beyond everything else... now? He's grown alot. Thinks about stuff differently... i know he's worried about it... but i think its good... but he won't listen to me--- chaos knows i've tried "

She sighed and relaxed her grip from the steel rail leaving it bent and deformed from when she tensed up. A reminded that she might look dainty but under that fur was a killer.

" Yea... and we nearly got her killed...got to cocky for 1 tick and shit hit the fan... she'd be better off anywhere else. I dunno why she wants to be around us... well no i know why--- She has a crush on Kit... its obvious, but i dun think he understands that... i feel like she's just gonna get hurt before its over..."

================================================

Feeling her touch was such a calming sensation despite how lost and scared he was feeling. A sensation he rarely knew a least not in such an overpowering way. It was hard for him to calm down, to stop shaking yet feeling her so close, the way they touched it seemed to sap away that feeling only to replace it by something else. A Warm and calming feeling that made him feel safe and almost content. He didn't like it and yet he wanted to feel more of it all at once.

when He felt his senses return and his world calm once more. The rain in the room ebbing away to a stop. He finally pulled himself back and rubbed his cheek as if to hide the flush that had filled them. He still did not understand his emotions and that struggle to comprehend them was a battle he didn't think he could win.

Her words made his ears twitch slightly as he tried to process what she was saying. A feeling, an override that couldn't be removed. An emotion that built over time and grew stronger through that connection. Her hand touching his and the feeling of her heart thumping in time with his own. It was a strange feeling that made his cheeks burn a little brighter.

" Love? "

He spoke the word yet it held almost no meaning to him, but giving a name to these emotions. It almost felt as if it helped bring his world back into focus. She was however implying that they had grown fond of one another beyond simple friendship or, alliances. Love was something he didn't really have any data on, nor did he believe he was designed to handle such a powerful emotion.

" Medications? I didn't realize... if i'm honest, Starline use to give me a cocktail of drugs to help control my emotions and keep me stable. I always though it was meant to suppress my potential... but i'm starting to think it was to keep my mind from lashing out with irrational thoughts... to stablize the chaos in my head--- But with his death i have no idea what he gave me and ... over time i've started to become more erratic and less rational... i fear these outbursts may get worse..."

He fidgeted as he admitted that his own mental instability might well be related to not knowing what Starline was drugging him with.

" I do not know if simply being there for one another will be enough to fight off the hormones developing in our bodies. Or the emotions swirling in our heads... but i suppose denying these feelings wouldn't help either... i just wish the out of control thoughts would stop... i wish the voices in my head would stop... sometimes they are so loud i can't think..."

He whispered as he held the side of his head as if his head hurt him, as if the mental trauma he suffered was a real physical thing he endured. Starline's program still raged inside of him and he might never be free of it...

But at least now maybe... he had someone besides surge to confide in...

[muntitled]

Housewife Blues

Pairings: Terry Richmond x Housewife!Reader

Summary: Operation making a baby

Warnings: Language, Traditional Gender Roles, Controlling!Terry, Daddy Issues, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Controlled Orgasm, Unprotected Sex

A/n: Reader literally calls him Daddy. Please don't read this if that's not your vibe.

When your days weren't spent caring for your home as an active military wife, you engaged in reading, crocheting, baking and positively, actively avoiding the southern housewives that haunted your sunny cul-de-sac. Terry knew you'd much rather be doing things alone when he was at work.

This woman was intruding on your alone time.

"We've got to stick together!" the woman had said, her voice dripped like her honeycomb hair haloing her head. You wouldn't have willingly opened the front door had you known she would be lurking on the other side. The amicable smile that was on your face was cracking.

You initially thought it might be your husband, come to surprise you, knocking off from work earlier than usual. All throughout the day, you had been eager to see him.

He had left you in quite the state this morning.

"Faster," he had commanded in that mahogany veneered voice as he watched you try and fail to give yourself even a sliver of the kind of pleasure you were used to. He liked watching you struggle to take your fingers that were far too small, nothing like his large, skillful hands that would drill into your cunt when you needed it to.

"Why are you slowing down?" He enquired calmly, his head leaning against the headboard as he watched you try to please yourself in order please him to the best of your abilities.

You were seated between his legs with your legs spread open. The only contact established between you two was your ass pressed against that bulge straining his boxers. If Terry was a lesser man, he'd forget that he was trying to teach you a lesson about coming without permission. If he wasn't so deeply wired with self control he mightve said fuck the lesson and pulled his cock out to slide inside your weeping cunt.

But he wasn't a lesser man.

And no matter how hard he got, he loved watching you struggle to make yourself cum.

"M'sorry okay?" Gone was the trace of bratiness in your tone. All that was left was a little girl's pathetic whine and even that made him harder.

"M'sorry, I wont cum without your permission again-" you craned your head back. Your cloudy hair moved across his chest as you met his eyes, "Please help me," you hoped eyes displayed your desperation. Even if that weren't enough you knew your next words would be. "Please, Daddy-" he made a sharp intake of breath and you knew you had him.

"I need y-"

"I need to go to work-"

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull as the man behind you moved to rid himself of you.

"What!? You're just going to leave like that?!"

"Who're you talking to?" He had asked so calmly, with his head tilted, corralling you into absolute silence.

"I-"

"Give it' till this afternoon," he wasn't a complete monster. He kissed you on your forehead, making you feel whole even for a split second before ridding himself of you once again.

"Can you be good for me until this afternoon?" You loved when he did that. You loved when he spoke down at you, as if you weren't sporting numerous degrees. As if you weren't a fully autonomous woman.

You liked the break he gave you from thinking.

"I can." You had said. Completely determined not to touch yourself until he arrived home.

All day, your brain had been fuzzy with thoughts of him. 'The dangers of being a housewife', your best friend had called it. He was consuming your every thought. Your mind was plagued by images of him inside you. Your mouth. Your cunt. Your mind.

You had no time for this. Not time for her.

"We?" You reiterate with your head slightly tilted as you lean against the door you were itching to slam shut in her face. "We should stick together?" You asked it as if hoping to make sense of how in what world a woman like her and a woman like you might ever be classified as 'we'. In front of you stood the seemingly perfect example of a nuclear housewife. Poodle puff golden hair, bright eerie smile and a body that could reproduce, seemingly at will.

"Yes!" The blonde woman said, "Us wives of veterans, we need to stick together-"

"Oh-" you were in the process of shaking your head, "I- don't really see myself as a product of Terry's-"

"I think we should have a little meet up tonight! We'll wrangle up the husbands and the kids-"

"I've got no kids," You said so curtly it could've given anyone a harsh chill.

"You and Terry have no children?" Judging by the look on her face you could swear you've just admitted to some form of bio terrorism.

"No kids?" She nodded gravely. Far too gravely. "H-How interesting, well. That's okay! I'll just call our babysitter- She's a lovely girl. Hopefully you find someone like her when you and Terry finally get to it-"

"When her and Terry get to what?" You hadn't even heard that roar of the truck easing up the driveway, your mind had been far too plagued with images of your childless marriage to really pay it any mind. But you're very much of him now as he appears behind that stupid little housewife.

Like Pavlov's dog, your body and all its machinations react to the sound of Terry's voice alone.

The gravel that seemed to roll in his esophagus. The way he dwarves the woman taking up your precious time. He had finally come home, but here you were, being occupied by your neighbors, dressed in nothing except a tight fitting night dress.

"Oh Terry!" The woman said, hoping to steal his attention, despite his eyes remaining fastened on you, "How lovely to finally meet! I was just telling your lovely wife we should all have a family meet up- she informed me that you two don't want kids?"

"Have-" You said so quickly, "I said we don't have kids. Not that we don't want any."

Without sparing the woman another glance, Terry strolls past her. His large bicep squeezes you into the frame of the door as he walks up behind you but you don't mind. In fact you suddenly feel calmer in his shadow. Your nerves are both calm and set alight as he moves his heavy arms around your waist.

"You explained yourself?" He bends down, his lips pressed against your ear, "You didn't need to do that." Your mouth stammered open as the woman by your doorstep pales.

"Well- I was just enquiring-" the woman attempts to salvage the situation but Terry’s already pulling you into the house.

"We'll come back to you about the dinner-”

“We could set a date right now and-”

“Excuse me,” Terry says, “We gotta go make that baby we apparently don't want-” you catch a final glimpse of that woman. Her mouth stammered open.

Terry's leading you towards the couch and you follow him, your fingers wrapped around his pinky. You swallow heavily watching his back muscles contract.

He's so big.

So in control.

It has your mind swimming in the pools of subspace as he lowers his frame to the couch. He pulls you into his lap and you yelp as the skirts of your dress fan around his lap.

For a moment all is quiet.

You evade eye contact and he tries to hide his smile as he forces you to interlock your hands behind his neck while his titan hands meet around your waist. You were quite literally trapped.

“That woman probably isn't going to talk to me again after that little display of yours,” you mumble lowly and he chuckles softly as he brings his nose to the crook of your neck and he breathes in.

“Try not to sound so pleased about that.”

“I have to make friends, Terry-” your breath stammers when you feel his pillow lips open up until he's pressing his tongue to the sensitive skin by your neck.

“Did you touch yourself?” He asks and despite his words holding that usual sliver of control, you can feel the slight eagerness to his actions. His steadily hardening cock straining through the front of his jeans and his restless hands moving underneath the skirt of your dress.

“No, you told me not to.”

“I've told you not to do many things,” he presses another kiss to your temple and you breathe in rather sharply when his fingers reach your inner thigh. “Sometimes you don't give a shit about what I say.”

“I promise I didn't touch myself,” it was becoming difficult to breathe. Your mind descended into lechery as his fingers inched up your thigh and you opened your legs slightly. “Honest.”

“Should I check the cameras?” Your body tensed ever so slightly and for someone as observant as Terry was trained to be, you knew he spotted it.

“We have cameras?”

“You think I'd just leave you in this hick ass town alone throughout the day and not have cameras in the house?”

“Oh- well-”

“Doesn't matter if you touched yourself, does it?” Your breathing swells as his fingers finally connect with the seat of your panties. He adjusts himself underneath you. You're absolutely soaked.

“No one can make you cum like I do,” He whispers, sliding your panties to the side, “Not even you.”

Your eyes grow hazy as his fingers begin to play with your aching cunt. It's everything you've needed and more.

“Say it-” You're teetering on the edge of a complete mental check-out as his fingers rub your clit. You squirm on top of him, searching for the seating position that would let you grind down on his hand but he keeps you still.

“Fuck-” he groans and for a split moment, you're nearly close.

Until he pulls his fingers away and you're once again whining and squirming with no sense of relief.

“You can't just-”

In a series of fluid and swift movements, Terry moves you off of his lap. Your back hits the couch as he hovers over you.

“what're you doing-”

“You thought I was kidding about making that baby?” He asks, so incredibly serious as he undoes his belt buckle and all you're able to do is lay supine and take whatever he gives

According to your family, everything about Terry Richmond had been a seemingly blood red flag: from his overtly frightening countenance, to his slightly unnerving marine status.

He is nothing but menacing as he hovers above you, parting your legs before reaching inside his jeans.

“You're squirming too much,” he says, “You want the cuffs?” Your throat dried with the recollection of the previous tike Terry had slapped his cuffs over your wrist. He had quite literally used your cunt to milk his cock and there was nothing you could do about it.

Despite loving the memory, and the sharp thrill it shoots straight to your clit, you wanna touch him, and you tell him as much.

He groans before lowering himself towards you.

“Shouldn't I take off-”

“Keep the dress on,” he lifts your hips before spreading your legs, for a moment he gets lost at what he sees There underneath all the pink frills and tulle.

“I'm going to get you pregnant,” he promises before lifting his eyes to meet yours, “Any objections?”

He's not smiling. His eyes are deep and hypnotic and you move your hips as if so incredibly needy to take anything he gives.

“No objections,” You shake your head and your words die in your throat when you feel your panties be swiped to the side once again. Terry's restraining himself. You can see it in the veins popping out of his neck.

You're not sure why.

“Green or Red?” His Eyes lift to meet you and you can feel the head of his cock press against your tight opening.

“Red,” you respond. “You can be rough- i just need y- FUCK-” he thrusts inside you, bottoming out almost immediately.

You didn't need any prep because you were already soaking through your underwear but your cunt still fought To bully his cock back out.

“Th-That hurts-” you grit your teeth as he begins to thrust shallowly inside you, despite having already bottom out. It's like he's searching for somewhere deeper to go and you both groan out loud at the thought.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” He watched his cock slides back out completely before slamming it back in and you yelp at his brutal intrusion. It fulfills something ravenous in you, the way he lowers his hand to the side of your head before fucking into you with wreckless abandon.

“So fucking tight-”

“Fuckyoursobig-” your eyes are hollow and Terry knows from your slurred speech that you were fully in subspace.

“Shit- you tryna make me cum already, huh?”

Your bottom lips portudes and you look up at him, nodding dumbly, “You wanna be a good slut for your Daddy, don't you?”

The second he locks his thick palm around your throat, and you wear his hand like a collar, you're absolutely done for. Your hips lift to meet his thrusts and your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“Such a fucking slut- shit-”

“Yo-Yours,” you moan, “Your slut-”

He immediately stills his hips before cursing aloud. Terry's lips crash down onto yours. A hungry kiss you weren't expecting but eagerly reciprocate.

“My pretty slut,” he nods his head in affirmation. patting down your head as if you always knew what to say. “That's right, baby.” You're bathed in the praise. You fucking absorbed it. “That's right, Clever Girl-”

“Oh my God, Daddy- please,” you lift your hips, urging him to continue drilling into you.

“You're such a good girl for me-” he continues to affirm as his hips move once more, “You gonna take my cun, aren't you, Pretty Girl? You gonna make Daddy proud and give him a baby-”

“Terry, ohmygod-” you can feel your cunt spasming around his cock.

“Ask.” He can see you teetering on the edge but his voice is dark and commanding. “You know better.” He warns. “Ask.”

“Please-” you search to hold onto something, anything that would stop you for cumming outright on your husband's cock, “Please let me cum, oh my god-”

He speeds up his own thrusts. Unbeknownst to you, your eagerness to take him, your whining and begging had him twitching inside you. It's like you became a vessel of his pleasure alone. You were good at that. You were good at making him the center of your universe.

“Cum for me, Pretty Girl.” It's all it takes for you to let yourself go completely. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Terry squeezes your throat, sending you flying amongst the clouds. You curse and scream and your cunt is suffocating his cock until he can't handle it anymore.

“Gonna cum,” he affirms, his voice tense and his muscles tight, “Gonna cum so fucking hard inside my Pretty Girl-” even he had his limits. Soon he wasn't able to say anything. His words bled into uncontrollable groans as he trusted a steady stream of cum inside you.

You're patting down on his tense muscles, urging him to part with every single drop.

You're full.

So utterly full it has you seeing stars.

“That ought'a do it.” He says.

He’s nice Terry again.

[colesterstrudel]

VERY IMPORTANT POLL!!!!!!!!!! I need y’all all to answer it, I’m so serious. Reblog it. Spread it around. I need to know the answer (I mean I know the RIGHT answer but I wanna see if y’all are also right lmaooo)

[xlbingo10]

do you ever see something in a game that isn't inherently scary or creepy, and, in another context, would be completely normal, but it just feels so wrong, so out of place, that it creates a pit in your stomach?

this is the entire world of monster hunter wilds loaded at once

there's a lot of interesting stuff here. craters are covering the land outside of the iceshard cliffs and wyveria, and it also looks like the entire thing could be a massive crater centered on wyveria. there are also the gouges in the earth. they're massive, perfectly straight, and most of them are pointing directly at, or away from, wyveria. some people have suggested that dalamadurs made them, but why would so many be converging on one point? and why are they perfectly straight?

at first glance, the iceshard cliffs seem like normal monster hunter ruins. broken down castles made of stone. but if you look closer, you can find areas where the ground is broken, revealing... metal?

also hidden withing the ground (or floor rather), walls, and ceilings are these metal honeycomb structures

that's... not castle construction

there's also one other area in the iceshard cliffs with something deeply incorrect. something that does not appear in monster hunter. in area 18, you can find a sinkhole, where you can find a safe pop up camp. also in the sinkhole is... this.

area 18 of the iceshard cliffs is internally labeled as "railgun hunt passage"

[kabr0ztrousers]

Had an idea that l'd love to see you tackle based on a post I saw you reblog! This is 'boutta be word soup but I hope I can get this across clearly:

Two words: Corruptive cum- Like, reader is 100% human before they roll in the hay with some sort of monster lover- (I love an established relationship, but I leave that up to you!) But when they get freaky, things GET FREAKY and reader is very much not human anymore by the end thanks to a nice dose of monster cum~ Type of monster and level of consent about the transformative effects of the cum is up to you!

I may or may not have a transformation kink, haha-

- 🌙

Kabr0z Writes Episode 147: Side Effects

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

Ao3!

CWs: body horror; transformation; tentacles; oral sex;

A/N: HOO, this one's another one where the preamble was tricky to get through. Sometimes I wonder if I should just skip a lot of the buildup and get straight to the fucking... OH WELL it's written now, so you're reading it. Enjoy :3

######################################

You found them months ago. You were Search through the forest for a meteorite you saw falling to earth. You'd known enough to know that if you found it, selling the stone would be well worth your while. When you reached the smoking crash site, however, you weren't prepared for what you found.

Instead of the characteristic honeycomb iron-basalt mineral you were hunting, you found them. A mass of tendrils, crying out in your mind. You didn't think about the implications of what you were doing. In a way this was the most momentous day in human history, first contact with an alien intelligence. All you knew was, whatever this thing was, it was hurt and it needed help. You weren't going to leave it alone for the wolves, the forests of Appalachia aren't a good place to be injured. You scooped the creature up into your rucksack and started the hike home.

Weeks passed, and you cared for your new lodger. They were remarkably intelligent, able to simply think concepts at you. You kept them in your cabin, in the warmth of home. They weren't demanding at all, content to sit on your floor and watch the television with you, eating whatever scraps you could spare. From what you understood, they'd normally subsist off minerals found on asteroids so not having to scrounge for a meal comprised pretty easy living.

Over time they chose a name for themselves, having never needed one before. You helped, mostly to advise them not to call themselves a verb or anything overly esoteric, but you did already know someone called Cinderblock, and that wasn't even a name they'd taken so when Polaris chose that name you didn't feel you had any rights to gainsay them.

Weeks passed and Polaris gradually learned more about the world they found themselves stuck on, quizzing you about history and culture. You answered what you could, and found internet videos on the things you couldn't. You started noticing Polaris getting into romantic comedies, as well as more steamy romance stories. You did have a collection of pulpy romance novellas, mainly anthologies of short stories, some more explicit than others. Polaris could read pretty handily, and you weren't exactly sure what their life cycle would look like. Of course, by this point they were already smarter than you, staying up late at night watching every documentary or video essay they could get their appendages on.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise when their thoughts turned to you. More specifically, to your relationship with one another. At first they started showing you flashes from the romance films, flickers from Pride and Prejudice, that sort of thing. Polaris moved on to more explicit notions, reading passages from some of the raunchier of your paperbacks to you in your head. It was only when they started looking up internet porn, serving images of anime girls happily laying with tentacled lovers that you decided enough was enough.

It's not like you hadn't thought about it. You'd been living with a tentacle beast from the depths of space for the last four months. Of course you'd ran the scenario of them deciding they wanted to fuck through your mind. First as paranoia, then a few times more for titillation. You wouldn't describe yourself as a monster fucker per se, but it's remarkable how your attitudes can shift when fate gives you such a golden opportunity.

Polaris' inquiries didn't stop. Every so often when the sun went down they'd ask again. It was during a particularly lonely dry spell you decided: why the fuck not? You waited for Polaris to ask, projecting hentai along with a quizzical feeling into your brain. For all their learning about humankind, they hadn't ever learned how to flirt but there again neither had you.

They followed you to bed, you lay on your back, inviting them onto you. You'd touched Polaris before, of course you had, they'd lived with you so long you were well accustomed to the smooth membranous skin, the rope-like muscle underneath. They still surprised you with their cool touch, sliding up through between your nightdress and your body. Soft, gently ribbed tentacles wrapped around your tits, squeezing and massaging them. Another probed at your mouth, while yet more slid around your ass and pussy.

You let the tentacled mass have its way with you, opening your legs for them, your lips parting to allow their appendage in. It tasted like unseasoned tofu, soft, smooth, getting slick with your spit. Polaris was being gentle, listening to your sighs and groans, slowly ramping up in intensity as you got wetter. Your tongue rolled the tentacle around in your mouth, you closed your lips around it, gently suckling on the tip as you teased it. You could feel your slick coating your cunt, the tips of several tendrils teasing your entrance as your hips rose and fell, instinctively trying to fuck yourself on a lover who wasn't even inside you yet. You groaned, trying to get Polaris to penetrate you, to take you harder rather than just tease. You started picturing them pushing inside you, every tendril filling you up, willing your thoughts to the creature toying with you.

You don't think it worked, or if it did, Polaris wanted to drag things out. The tendrils toyed with you, sliding across every inch of your exposed skin, never dipping more than the tip into your sodden holes. You groaned as tears welled in your eyes, your aching, hungry cunt desperate for something to fill it.

Maybe it was the deep red of your flushed face, or the stinging throbbing of your engorged clit, maybe Polaris just decided to be kind. A thick mass of tentacles drove into your pussy, stretching you out, writhing over one another. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you half-screamed. Your hands gripped your thighs. Fingers sank into plush flesh as you held yourself open. Your cunt clenched and squished against the mass of mobile, wriggling tentacles inside you.

Polaris started to shudder, leaking from every tendril. The fluids filled your mouth and your cunt, tingling slightly. You swallowed it down eagerly, basking in the afterglow of your liaison.

Then things got weird. You felt lightheaded. After the ground-shaking orgasm you'd just had, you'd be surprised if you didn't, so you lay there a while longer. You noticed Polaris felt heavier, sinking into you a little more than usual. You rolled to get them off you, feeling your many-limbed lover slipping out of your nightdress and settling on the bed next to you, purring contentedly as though enjoying a post-coital cigarette.

God you could do with a smoke. You didn't normally, but after a fucking like that, you're happy enough to break into a packet you kept on top of the wardrobe, for exactly this circumstance. You felt wobbly, getting up was tricky but again, if you can walk properly afterwards then someone's been doing something wrong.

It was only when you passed the full-length mirror you spotted anything different. Your flesh was pink around your mouth. You put your fingers to your face, feeling your lips. They were soft, and cool, like jelly. You stepped back, watching as the pink colour spread. First your skin would go pink, then clear, then you could see through it to the bone. The change was spreading, inexorable, and speeding up.

A queasiness set upon your belly. You tugged off your gown, watching as a circle of the new, clear jelly-like flesh overtook your thighs and lower torso. You could already see straight through your crotch, down to your pelvis. You touched the translucent pinkish gel.

You almost doubled over, mouth open, gasping as another orgasm rocked through you. Your hand sunk into the slime that was your lower body. Pleasure radiated from it, the few muscles left in your legs twitching before they too were overtaken. You looked back at the mirror, just in time to see two eyes staring from your grinning skull, before they too shifted to pink.

Darkness enveloped you. Then light. You could see. The world looked strange, all geometry and vibration. The mirror didn't work any more, a flat plate in front of you. Whatever you were perceiving as sight, it wasn't light now. You felt your bones floating in you, hundreds of pieces of stony solidity, wrapped in the cool matrix of your new self. You let them slip away, seeing every one as it left you, collecting in a pile on the floor.

Polaris slid towards you. You held out what was once a hand. A shiver ran through you as they slid in, swimming through your body, a thousand thoughts flooded your mind. Polaris's thoughts. Some were joyful, some apologetic, they didn't know this would happen, but they're happy you get to be together.

You were happy too. Your lover filled you with such marvellous new sensations, your new body would take some getting used to, but what is life but a series of changes?

######################################

I like transformation too, so if you think this is the last you've seen of the "transformative cum" idea, you're way wrong 😁

[scealaiscoite]

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐 food prompts 𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

¹⁾ tart, fresh cherries

²⁾ milky tea

³⁾ a can of redbull

⁴⁾ cold pepperoni pizza

⁵⁾ orange segments

⁶⁾ chamomile tea

⁷⁾ burnt toast

⁸⁾ steaming masala chai

⁹⁾ bitter dark chocolate

¹⁰⁾ water-heavy pears

¹¹⁾ salty cinema popcorn

¹²⁾ smooth whiskey

¹³⁾ fluffy cinnamon rolls

¹⁴⁾ rich cuban coffee

¹⁵⁾ streetside pani puri

¹⁶⁾ fresh-baked cookies

¹⁷⁾ pomegranate seeds

¹⁸⁾ sour jellies

¹⁹⁾ homemade soup dumplings

²⁰⁾ hotel room service french fries

²¹⁾ sugared donuts

²²⁾ mexican coca-cola

²³⁾ strawberry milkshake

²⁴⁾ fudgey brownies

²⁵⁾ spearmint gum

²⁶⁾ happy hour cocktails

²⁷⁾ fairground candyfloss

²⁸⁾ salmon sashimi

²⁹⁾ airplane peanuts

³⁰⁾ takeout fried rice

³¹⁾ pistachio gelato

³²⁾ a packed lunch

³³⁾ bruised bananas

³⁴⁾ cheap instant ramen

³⁶⁾ agua de jamaica

³⁷⁾ petrol station chocolate bars

³⁸⁾ soft mangos

³⁹⁾ chicken noodle soup

⁴⁰⁾ convenience store onigiri

⁴¹⁾ lemonade from a neighbourhood kids’ stand

⁴²⁾ chilaquiles

⁴³⁾ a steaming bowl of breakfast congee

⁴⁴⁾ too-sweet instant coffee

⁴⁵⁾ a sunday roast with all the trimmings

⁴⁶⁾ high-end restaurant steak frites

⁴⁷⁾ mango sticky rice

⁴⁸⁾ salsa verde and tortilla chips

⁴⁹⁾ stale bottled water

⁵⁰⁾ rotten strawberries

⁵¹⁾ old-fashioned caramels

⁵²⁾ honey and lemon lozenges

⁵³⁾ garlic bread

⁵⁴⁾ mango loco monster

⁵⁵⁾ clumsily-made spaghetti

⁵⁶⁾ rotisserie chicken

⁵⁷⁾ madras curry

⁵⁸⁾ abuela’s caldo de res

⁵⁹⁾ dirty martini

⁶⁰⁾ tinned sardines

⁶¹⁾ arayes

⁶²⁾ the last slice of birthday cake

⁶³⁾ ripe nectarines

⁶⁴⁾ caviar bump

⁶⁵⁾ iced latte

⁶⁶⁾ sugar cookies

⁶⁷⁾ mulled wine

⁶⁸⁾ baklava

⁶⁹⁾ chocolate poptarts

⁷⁰⁾ warm champangne

⁷¹⁾ sticky toffee pudding

⁷²⁾ blueberry pancakes

⁷³⁾ birria tacos

⁷⁴⁾ hospital pudding cups

⁷⁵⁾ lobster rolls

⁷⁶⁾ fresh honeycomb

⁷⁷⁾ campfire coffee

⁷⁸⁾ sweet tea

⁷⁹⁾ hot honey

⁸⁰⁾ vanilla protein powder

⁸¹⁾ bulgogi beef

⁸²⁾ warm focaccia

⁸³⁾ chilli con carne

⁸⁴⁾ peach cobbler

⁸⁵⁾ cold watermelon slices

⁸⁶⁾ sweet stewed apple

⁸⁷⁾ coloured marshmallows

⁸⁸⁾ vendor stand hotdogs

⁸⁹⁾ dragonfruit redbull

⁹⁰⁾ blood oranges

⁹¹⁾ vanilla coke

⁹²⁾ blue raspberry slushie

⁹³⁾ nicotine gum

⁹⁴⁾ raspberry jam

⁹⁵⁾ pear cider

⁹⁶⁾ pineapple rings

⁹⁷⁾ chicken wings

⁹⁸⁾ salted butter

⁹⁹⁾ coconut meat

¹⁰⁰⁾ wild blackberries

[hanespiritu]

ON HIS KNEES

(Hermes x Telemachus (?))

written by: Han Espiritu

Note: I just got this idea from @ccoldsodaa from tiktok ....the animatic made me blush.

---

It was the third evening since the temple fires had dimmed, and still the sea had not yielded his father. Telemachus stood on the balcony of the palace at Ithaca, his robes untouched by the breeze, his hands clutched tight behind his back. The court within murmured of suitors, of inheritances, of long shadows stretching into fatherless nights.

He was tired. Gods, he was tired.

He had prayed already. To Athena, to Poseidon despite his fury, to Zeus. He had even left offerings at minor altars, hoping one neglected lesser deity might take pity.

But there was one god he hadn’t dared ask.

Until now.

The moon rose bright, polished like a coin. And on the temple steps, Telemachus knelt—not inside the sacred threshold, no. Outside. In the chill of dew and stone, he bared his knees to the cold. The temple of Hermes, Messenger of the Gods, Trickster of Olympus, Patron of Thieves and Travelers, stood silent. Telemachus bowed low.

“…Hermes. Argeiphontes. Fleet-footed one,” he whispered. “Please.”

No answer. Not even a breeze. The torches flickered and hummed in the windless night.

“I’m—I’m Telemachus. You know me. I am my father’s son.”

A pause.

Then, louder, with something cracking in his voice:

“I know you don’t care about mortals. That you flit between skies and shadows, laughing while we toil—but please, I’m begging you—”

He dropped flat to the marble, forehead pressed against cold stone.

“Please. I will do anything. I’ll honor you every day. I’ll build a shrine. I’ll burn golden honeycomb for you every festival. I’ll be a good boy. I promise.”

A sudden gust of wind—no, a whoosh—swept through the colonnades.

“...A good boy?” came a voice like a chuckle hidden in windchimes.

Telemachus looked up fast. His breath caught.

He had never seen a god in true form before.

Hermes hovered just above the ground, sandals winged and gleaming, his cloak fluttering weightlessly, curls tousled like ivy vines under sunlight. A staff twirled in his left hand, lazily, as though everything here bored him. But his cheeks—

—his cheeks were red.

“Did you say,” Hermes drawled, descending with infuriating elegance, “that you’d be a good boy for me?”

Telemachus flushed, but didn’t move. “I meant—I mean—I’ll be loyal. I’ll serve. Please, I just—”

“Oh, no no no,” Hermes waved a finger, then pointed it directly between Telemachus’s eyes. “You do not get to say things like that and then grovel on marble like some pious little virgin prince. That’s unfair.”

“I’m—what?”

Hermes blinked. “You’re lucky I’m into that.”

Telemachus blinked back.

“I—I didn’t mean to offend—”

Hermes, flustered and flapping his wings awkwardly, stepped back, pacing in a small circle like someone trying to reset their mood.

“Oh Olympus, you mortals and your knees, I swear—” he muttered to himself. “I was just passing by. Literally just flying to Delos to drop off a love letter from some Mycenaean barmaid to Apollo, and this—this beautiful mortal princeling just drops to the floor and says, ‘I promise I’ll be a good boy’—Are you trying to make a god combust?!”

Telemachus, who had until now never been flirted with by an immortal being, looked wildly between Hermes’ rapidly pacing form and his own trembling hands. “So…you’ll help?”

Hermes froze. Then turned.

“…You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Telemachus nodded, voice shaking now. “Yes. I’m not asking for riches or glory. I don’t want war. I don’t even need you to stay. I just want him home. I want my father.”

Hermes’ smile faltered. For a heartbeat, he looked young—not eternal, not divine, just…young. A boy with too many places to be, too many burdens on his feathered heels.

“You miss him.” Hermes said quietly.

“Yes.” Telemachus’s voice cracked. “He doesn’t even know the man I’ve become. He fought gods and monsters for us. And now everyone thinks he’s dead. If I let them say that, I—I lose hope too.”

The god stepped forward, crouching so their faces were level. His eyes—brilliant and ancient—studied the trembling prince.

“I don’t often do this,” Hermes murmured. “But I’ll tell you a secret.”

Telemachus blinked.

Hermes leaned close. “The thing no one tells you about gods is—we like it. When mortals beg.”

Telemachus stiffened.

Hermes grinned, soft and sharp. “Not because of power. That’s Zeus’s thing. But because we’re lonely, princeling. You kneel and pray, and for once, someone isn’t demanding. You’re offering.”

“I’m not offering much.”

“Oh, I think you offered plenty.”

Hermes’ hand brushed Telemachus’s chin, and the boy nearly reeled at the featherlight touch. Then Hermes stood, cocky again.

“Alright, alright. Enough divine vulnerability. You want your father? Fine. I’ll go nag Calypso. She’s got him holed up like a love-struck nymph.”

Telemachus gasped. “He’s alive?!”

“Very.” Hermes twirled his staff, spinning it into the crook of his arm. “And bored. I’ll get him moving again.”

The boy’s knees gave out with a soft gasp. “Thank you—thank you, thank you—”

Hermes whipped around. “Don’t kneel again! I already said yes!”

“But—”

Hermes pointed a warning finger. “If you say ‘good boy’ one more time, I will make you my personal shrine attendant for a decade.”

“…Is that a punishment?”

Hermes turned red.

Then disappeared.

A gust of wind.

A swirl of dust.

Silence.

And the faint sound of laughter from the sky.

---

Later, in Ogygia…

Odysseus sat beneath the laurel tree, eyes lost in clouds. Calypso stirred beside him, braid tangled with salt.

“I feel a wind coming,” she whispered.

He sat upright.

Hermes landed with a crash, wings disheveled, face flushed, and attitude aggrieved.

“Get. Up.”

Odysseus blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your son made me blush, Odysseus. He begged. He said he’d be a ‘good boy’. Do you understand what that does to a messenger god?!”

Odysseus stared. “…My son said what?”

Hermes grabbed his wrist. “Say goodbye to your sexy nymph. Ithaca is calling.”

Calypso sighed. “He could’ve written a letter.”

Hermes muttered, “He did. With his knees.”

---

⚠️ Plagiarism Warning:

This work is original and written by HAN ESPIRITU. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission. Plagiarizing or claiming this story as your own is strictly prohibited and will be reported.

[sakuraandscales]

Send 🌀 for my muse’s reaction to getting stuck in a storm with yours. For Charmette stuck with Kit

"Geeze... that came out of nowhere didn't it?" The honey bee takes a moment to shake the water off of her remaining wing, it wasn't exactly comfortable. "How are you holding up? I can't imagine the thunder is kind to your ears and this amount of rain...you can feel it can't you?"

"This...reminds me of the day we met. When you whipped up that monsoon because of my pheromones....I'm sorry about that, by the way. It didn't bother Surge so I thought you'd be fine too. I didn't expect you to react how you did...I've been careful to never use them around you since. It really scared us...both Surge and myself, you seemed as if you were in a trance at the time. She'll never admit it...but I could tell she was worried. I was too."

"Despite that... it was pretty cool watching you use your powers on such a scale." She smiled at the memory now, even though at the time she had been worried that she had done something horrible. "I wasn't scared of what you could do, I never have been. I was worried for you at the time...but not scared. I think your powers are beautiful to watch. Heh, that probably sounds stupid huh?"