terrorTier
Recent bookmarks
-
Spamton and Tenna's Scandalous Escapades by NamelessBeast66
Fandom Deltarune (Video Game)
02 Jul 2026
Summary
Spamton and Tenna having intense gay sex. Sometimes in public, sometimes in private. But these freaks get up to some pretty kinky stuff. Can be read in any order (almost), and will take place during their Big Shot Era.
Requests are accepted as long as they are not super weird like piss kinks, gore, and stuff like that <3Update: There's straight up no benefactor. Pretend Spammy's a good salesman. The only contract is their marriage contract >:]
Update 2: More plot! Spammy's pregnant. Don't ask how.
Update 3: I'm writing a prequel! Read "A gut feeling" for how they met and all that good stuff.
Update 4: I made a timeline! Check the series notes.- Words:
- 384,981
- Works:
- 41
- Bookmarks:
- 25
Bookmarked by terrorTier
01 Jul 2026
-
Tags
Summary
Ghost monsters aren’t that common in the Light World. If they were, maybe someone would have warned Mettaton how easy it was to accidentally trip and fall into the nearest Dark World. Good thing his new television is nearby and ready to catch him!
(Written for #MTTVember / Day 2: Sparks)
Bookmarked by terrorTier
26 Jun 2026
-
Tags
Summary
Feeling more than a little emotionally fatigued from yesterday’s Light World obligations, Mettaton decides to call out for the rest of the afternoon. Tenna takes it about as well as you’d expect.
(Written for #MTTVember / Day 14: Glooby)
Bookmarked by terrorTier
26 Jun 2026
-
Tags
Summary
TV World is getting by on a geriatric gnat’s prayer, which is to say, terribly.
Spamton tries to help keep the lights on for as long as he can hop between Dark Worlds, but he knows there is a limit to his sponsor’s generosity. A band-aid fix will have to be enough.
Bookmarked by terrorTier
26 Jun 2026
-
Tags
Summary
He woke up that morning and could feel it. The difference, the change. Your shared room was hazy, drawn through smog, pumped over the glass of his mind. He hoped it was a virus, and he'd sleep it off, but he could smell you next to him, sharp. Even when he closed his eyes the shape of you in the room was distinct. You were a heat imprint next to him, you burned yourself into his withered capacity for trust. He said you were his, he said it all the time, knew it all the time, that he'd charmed you and you'd fallen victim to him, the doll-man from the trash. The ugly, walking corpse of the most successful Addison who ever lived: Spamton G. Spamton. That morning he realized he was stuck with you in every iota. His neural pathways were adjusted, wired you in, accommodated you. His heat started for the first time in a decade.
Bookmarked by terrorTier
25 Jun 2026