Werewolf Boyfriend who begs you to stop shaving so that you can be hairy together. He’s tired of being the only one who sheds, who’s legs are like tall pine trees in the middle of summer, dark and unruly when he pulls out the swimming shorts. So from now on, no haircuts, no shaving. He loves the texture of your body, the way it almost calls for him to touch it.
Werewolf Boyfriend who looooves to gloat about you to the rest of his werewolf friends. Oh, your mate just got a promotion? Well MINE finally finished the pile of forgotten crafts left on our living room table, and you better compliment the misshapen crochet puppet they made, or face the consequences.
Werewolf Boyfriend who often ‘forgets’ to put your work lunch out in the mornings. It gives him just another excuse to visit you during work, rubbing himself all over your computer and desk to make sure any creature in the office can smell him. (As if he doesn’t rub himself on you and your clothes before you leave anyways.)
Werewolf Boyfriend who sometimes kicks in his sleep like a dog, raking at the bedsheets and twitching when he dreams. If you hold him long enough, rocking him or brushing your fingers over his eyelids, he may stop from stomping you off the bed.
Werewolf Boyfriend who can’t help but smell your dirty laundry before putting it in the washer. He tries to do it secretly, but you may occasionally catch him walking around the house looking for the scent beads and your gym shorts pressed up against his nose.
Werewolf Boyfriend who play bites, gnawing on your arms and ankles, flipping you over so that he can slobber on your thighs. Something about it releases this primal urge in him to gnaw, just enough to where his jaw pulses and his tongue salivates.
NSFW under the cut
Werewolf Boyfriend who is the ultimate service top-- he loves to please, to the point where he’s wagging his tail just because he gets to go down on you. He isn’t afraid of nudity, so to see him rip his clothes off fully before pouncing on you isn’t much of a surprise. He loves hearing your pretty sounds, seeing you come fully undone all from him. It reassures him that he’s doing a good job, that you can’t help but hold onto him, and be the one begging this time.
Werewolf Boyfriend who you have to force to bite down onto a pillow to muffle out his sounds. He’ll wake up the neighbors with his howling and whimpers if he’s given his way. You usually have a designated ‘bite pillow’ for these.. “occasions” but one too many instances have shown that it never seems to last after a night. Covered in drool and ripped to shreds, he apologizes for ruining one of your nicer ones, opting for something less expensive next time.
Werewolf Boyfriend who would spread you open in a park, the woods, or your kitchen countertop if he could. When he’s inside you, he’s not thinking about other people, about his surroundings-- which can prove romantic, and utterly embarrassing. You know better than to take him out during rut season, especially if it involves any kind of water and swimwear, or food he eats with his fingers.
Werewolf Boyfriend who has a fixation on your ears and thighs. The ears, primarily because it’s a form of revenge. With you hanging on his and pinching them all the time, he tries to get you back by biting and licking them to tease you, riling you up as just the smallest essence of foreplay. Your thighs, of course because he loves them wrapped around him. Before the evening’s over, they’ll be full of hickies, long lines of dried sticky residue upon them from his tongue. He loves how they clench and shake, how he has to hold you up by your thighs when he’s pumped every inch of energy out of you.
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Ok, so I think I've decided on names, and look. We're going fully on vibes here. 🤷♀️ These are my first real OCs and we're going with what feels right. Meet Gryg and Azalea. We'll learn more about them in 2025 in some form or another. Hope you'll come along for the ride. 😁 They're so cute and I love them. 🥰
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It's going to be a bit different in March with the mail outs, because I’m doing some spring cleaning and organizing!
You'll be getting special mystery gifts this time featuring new and old items so I can make room for what’s to come in the rest of the year.
It will all be a mystery as to what you receive too. You'll be getting a possibility of a mix of prints, stickers, magnets, charms, and possibly receiving things that haven't been released yet.
You'll get at least the amount you get each month, possibly even more.
Sign up to Patreon now and you'll get to see over 30 unpublished stories, including rough drafts, special previews, and the patreon only CYOA (on hiatus for the moment, but you can read all chapters). As well as enjoy a back catalog of old stories. Also, starting at $1, you can get access to the discord server!
please write the second part of that Lamia lady cause I'm obsessed!!😭😭😭😭 And cause you need to write more gxg stories cause they're a masterpiece😠🔥🔥
A/N: I love writing wlw but unfortunately it doesn't do too well! I'm so glad you like it though sometimes I only think I've got 2 other wlw lovers in here😭
Synopsis: The summer night’s heat is almost too much for a lamia and her prey mate; unfortunately, you just don’t know when to quit
The cave was swelteringly hot. At night, cool air occasionally whispered inside and allowed your sticky, salt-ridden flesh a prayer of salvation. But since the summer solstice, the heat has picked up to the point of sweating completely through your barren clothes.
Your captor didn’t seem to mind.
She let your slick skin collide with hers, rubbing against it in an oiled dance that left something inside you incomplete. She pressed her tail between your legs, often on these nights, attempting to cool you and prevent a fever from breaking out. It did little other than cause your leg to fall asleep, but you gladly let her push you to the coolest part of the cave, shielding you from the night’s humid air.
Sweat dribbled from your neck, tickling as it fell down your nape and onto the lamia’s tongue. She lapped it away like it was nothing, the flutter of her slitted tongue swiping over the baby hairs of your skin. You might’ve assumed it was a doting task, something mindless she did to help keep her prey clean and supple. But the shifting girth between your thighs-- the sudden wrap of the tip of her tail around your foot-- had you guessing her far more wicked desires.
What could be a fate worse than death? Oh, perhaps a predator who plays with its food, letting it live far longer than it should.
You’ve tried countless maneuvers to escape from her claws, to create some sort of boundary of space between you two-- but the bare, mild warmth of her chest always finds its way pressed to your back, her claws stroking your head from a distance.
“You will suffer, when I want you to.” She often threatened. Yet when it came to soft affections such as letting her scaled fingertips graze your bare hip, or pushing back your hair from your eyes, she almost seemed… hesitant.
“It's the dead of night, and yet still so ungodly hot.” Nyoka murmured. She shuddered against your back.
Lamia’s had little control over their body temperature, so nights like these were always hardest for her. She burned up like a candle wick with nothing to show for it, while you were able to bathe in the sweet chill of your unending sweat. She clung to you, trying to let the dampness of your body rub off on her just for an ounce of relief.
“You’re telling me.” You complain, trying to wriggle from her as the heat traps beneath your clothes.
“Don’t move-- do you wish me to fry to death?”
“That'd be an improvement.” You mumble under your breath, letting her glare daggers at the back of your head.
“Keep talking, sweet prey, see if the heat is the worst thing digging into your skin.”
A claw pokes at your tailbone, the back of your shirt having long since been lifted so that Nyoka could feel the perspiration of your skin on hers.
You rolled your eyes. How many times had you heard threats of your flesh being torn by her fingers?
Her arm reached over you to grab a copper pitcher of water, now nearly gone from how swiftly you had gulped it down. It provided relief for only a moment, before the water developed into sweat, back to being thirsty again.
The water dribbled down her chest as she swallowed, letting it travel further to her stomach. She heaved, swallowing until the pitcher was empty. It was a dramatic show of exhaustion, but the pallid color of her skin, the laze of her eyes and limpness of her tail were telltale signs of her weakness.
You turned to look at her, watching as she pushed back her hair from her eyes. Her nakedness had become a sort of normal for you, but it still left you in a state of strangeness when she was exposed on full display, such as now.
She caught you staring unabashedly.
“Unfortunately, we won’t be getting into anything until this heat stops.” She grinned, flicking her thin tongue down her chin.
You scowled; this treatment of you as a ‘mate’ one moment and a prisoner the next never sat right with you. You’d never give in so willingly with how much she had stripped away from you.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I’d rather be stuck out in the heat than lie with you.”
Nyoka’s flirty expression quickly fell to a frown.
“Careful now what you wish for,” The lamia was quick to grab the hand you held your head up with, forcing it away from you. “My patience runs rather thin during heat waves. I’d hate for you to bear the brunt of something I’ll regret later.”
She barred her teeth, all silver daggered and jagged stone. Moments ago she was spooning you from behind-- ignoring your silent treatment --the next you were flipped beneath her and writhing from the heat.
“Such big talk from a snake who hasn’t even taken a bite. How long will you leave me waiting, desperate to get your fucking claws in me? Do us both a favor, and eat me.”
You clenched your jaw in anger, raising your head to go nose to nose with her. Nyoka’s eyes narrowed, her grimace faltering as your fingernails dug into the skin of her shoulder. Even with your clear distaste for her, your standoffishness, your anger at her attempts at courting you through force-- you had never so clearly invited your own death.
“What did I say about wishing?” The heat becomes a secondary thought now that Nyoka sees your aggression as a threat. Her tail wraps miles around your legs, leaving you in a state of frozen paralysis. Breaking you down was becoming a common thing more and more. You maintain her gaze, the harsh glare of her slit eyes just as intimidating as your rage filled ones. “I’ll gladly fulfill your request,” she said sharply, blood pooling around her thumb’s nail as it pushes deeper into your palm. “Just don’t start crying and begging for me to stop.”
She followed without hesitation, nearly colliding her head into yours. Nyoka’s teeth gnawed at your lips, pulling the bottom one in a harsh bite. A kiss came, smashing your lips against hers as her grip nearly melded you into the ground. You kissed back, all teeth and little tongue, feverish and full of intent to hurt. Your blunt teeth didn’t do as much damage as hers, but they were enough to get her groaning in irritation, the tip of her tail squeezing around your ankles.
“That all you’ve got?” You huff between bloody nips and kisses, grabbing at the base of her neck.
She laughs, half demented, half in disbelief.
The tight squeeze against her neck does nothing to push her back as she leans down to lick the sweat from your shoulder. The ticklish sensation is replaced with that of a searing bite, pain burrowing into your shoulderblade from multiple different digs.
You can’t help crying out, surprised and terror stricken as it feels a large piece of your flesh is about to be ripped away, The upturn of her lips behind her bite is a silent gloat at hearing your scream. She keeps her mouth latched on, letting her teeth pulsate against your flesh, deeper, and deeper. The squeal leaving your mouth is unbearable, true panic coursing through your limbs as the sight of your death blurs in front of you. It takes Nyoka longer than necessary to push her jaw back in place, letting go with a squelch.
Nyoka pulls away with a streak of blood smeared across her lip.
“You want me to bite, I’ll bite.” She licks around her lips, lapping the salt and iron of your body onto her tongue.
It was a gut reaction, to cry at the sensation--tears glossing over your wide eyes. But you wouldn’t, not with how cruelly she’d tease you, right before she’d coo and lick away the wound, rubbing your back.
Nyoka could see that the fun had been stripped from you, a bitterness filling your rage rather than the cruel entertainment once there.
“Keep pushing, my sweetest, and eventually I’ll snap.”
She stroked your bewildered face, letting you gape at the blood pooling down your shoulder.
The heat joined her in relishing in your suffering, letting drops of sweat mingle with the open wound. Nyoka’s head dipped with an open mouth to provide small kisses, slowly cleaning your bruised flesh.
