#monster writing
Text
*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*
Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?
In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄
You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.
The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.
Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.
The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.
Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.
"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.
He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.
"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"
The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.
"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"
Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.
"Hey!"
"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.
You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,
"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."
The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.
"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.
It's quiet for a minute until you ask.
"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."
The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.
"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."
"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.
"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.
"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.
"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"
You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.
You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.
"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.
He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.
"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.
Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.
"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."
You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.
"You're serious?"
You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,
"This is what I do."
The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.
"Magic. I mean.... magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.
"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."
"We?"
"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight lit-"
"Alright! Alright."
Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.
"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."
"...Alright. That sounds good."
You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."
"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."
He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.
"Cmon. Sit."
You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.
"Now?"
He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.
"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."
You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best friends.
You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.
"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."
He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.
Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,
"can I sit?"
He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."
You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.
Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.
An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.
"That should do it."
You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.
"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."
Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"
He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.
"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."
Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.
"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"
You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.
Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.
You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.
This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"
You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.
You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.
You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.
You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.
"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.
"Nononono, Please no. Please."
Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.
"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.
"I need you."
Your heart jumps in your chest.
"I need you to fuck me...please"
You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.
"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."
You reach down to gently hold his proportionately massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.
"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"
All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.
"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling me up so good!""
You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.
"I've got you big guy."
You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.
Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.
You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.
You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.
After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.
You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.
"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,
"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."
You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.
"You're a size queen."
You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.
"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."
You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.
"Shut up, you're the one with the-"
"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."
Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.
"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"
He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.
"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"
You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.
"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"
"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."
You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.
"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."
He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.
You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.
"If you ask nicely."
He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.
You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.
"Please fuck me Grim."
Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.
You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.
He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.
It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.
You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.
You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.
He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.
Knock knock knock
You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.
Knock knock knock
"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"
The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.
"BOY! What do you want?!"
You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.
"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"
Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.
"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."
"But I was-"
"Tomorrow."
The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.
"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"
Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.
"Thank you for...helping out"
He says, quite genuinely.
"Anytime."
You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.
"Anytime?"
You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.
"Just unbelievable."
You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.
#monsterfucker#I'm thinking of making this mage character a recurring character where I basically write about her smutty monster adventures 👀👀👀#monster x human#monster fucker#monster boyfriend#monster lover#monster x reader#monster writing#orc x reader#orc x human#nsft writing#terato#teratophillia
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Tentacles and Tendrils
Shaking off the rust and giving monster smut(writing in general) a shot again.
Prompt: monster partner is in rut/heat and the partner has to deal with it
Rating: 18+
Monster type: M!Merfolk x F!Reader
Word count: 6k
~Taking requests~
You stare out at the unending, blue horizon. The cool ocean breeze preparing you for the temperatures of its water as you linger along the edge. You wore the company certified diving gear: a wetsuit, mask, BCD, the works. A spear weighed down one hand while a cylindrical container weighed on your shoulder. Hope and pessimism fought to be at the forefront of your mind as you scan the empty waters with heavy disappointment. This area was always relatively vacant, but not too far off you can spot a duo entering the water with matching gear. Their actions take you out of your haze, and with another gauge check you finally approach the water. Getting a feel for the sea's surge, you make your way in. And with practiced hands you slipped on your fins before turning to greet the seas with outstretched arms.
Beneath the blue your body instantly goes into autopilot. Swimming was as natural as walking and these seas might as well have been a second home; a wayward beauty that will switch it's mood at a moments notice but home nonetheless. You took it all in, familiar as it may be, the ocean never stopped being a sight to behold. A world beneath our own full of wonderful blues, outstretched greens and terrifying blacks. The current had a bit of force behind it but nothing near the cruelty you knew any large body of water could deal. Your darting eyes couldn't help but search around, scanning everywhere for even just a hint of... There! You moved with haste. As much as you could as a land dwelling animal in aquatic terrain. You didn't get far before the shape you eagerly chased revealed itself to be just a particularly thick and unruly swatch of seaweed. You sigh internally before resolving to begin your original task.
Nearing a gorgeous station of coral, you couldn't help but linger and watch the busyness. Schools of varicolored, itty bitty fish swimming through the equally colorful pseudo-flora. Despite your love for marine life, you never quite learnt the names of all the little guys much less how to differentiate between them, say for a handful that stick out. Your interest was usually for the larger lifeforms mother nature had to offer; you smiled as you watched a wary grey eel eye you with suspicion. Soon your eyes fell upon your reason for being here. It's bright red colors were slightly muted by the depths, with white tiger stripes outlined by black to break up the pattern. Its form was lined with spines and frills that flowed and fluttered with each graceful swish of it's body; an absolutely gorgeous creature. You readied your spear. The black strap trigger pressed into your skin as you carefully aimed, hoping not to hit anything but the target. It helped that the lionfish lingered in one spot before you speared it. You moved to put it in the container before opting to offer it to the eel you saw earlier. As gorgeous - and delicious - as they were, these guys were invasive here and the effects of their persistence was a constant strain to the native wildlife. They seemed highly concentrated around this sandy patch of substrate, driftwood and dead coral. It didn't take long after the first few kills for one of your friends to make their way over. Gently, you caressed the top of the nurse shark eyeing your spare eagerly, this one you named Lisa... or maybe it was Madeline. It was no surprise your face blindness extended to animals as well, even the cute ones that made your dives feel a little less lonely. The creature began gliding and swirling around you. You liked to believe the fondness was mutual but it was equally likely they were just in it for a meal. You speared another lionfish and offered it to the grey and white cutie.
The spot you were in. The shark. The scenario. It brought back the memory of the first time you saw him.
Back then you were collecting lionfish, same as now with a duo of nurse sharks tailing your every movement. At the time you were overly cautious, so you'd sit in one place, removing the venomous spines of the fish before handing them over. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, he'd been there for quite a while, watching you. From his position partially behind the rocks, you'd think he was hiding -or rather, on the defensive- but you just can't imagine something that big and powerful hiding from tiny 'ol you. Yes you had a spear but you doubt it would do you much good if he decided to attack. Merfolk. Given your job at the Aquatic Wildlife Center you were relatively familiar with them. Your company was more than welcoming when programs were made for them- as well as the other species- who showed interest in coexisting during the realm migration. The Merfolk you were familiar with, however, had to undergo numerous lessons on etiquette and culture to live among humans. The one near you now... The word 'feral' came to mind. You didn't quite like using such an animalistic term towards something that looked a little too human, someone that you knew had equivalent intelligence. His skin was primarily muted greens with a burst of parchment white down his chest and undersides of his arms. Unlike the fish tails merfolk were known for, this one's body ended in a myriad of tentacles, not unlike an octopus. Height wasn't exactly something you could measure but in terms of body mass he was more than twice your own. He seemed to tense any time you held direct eye contact so you settled on keeping him in your peripheral and keeping your movements slow and measured. You're not sure what he wanted but if he was content to just watch you, you didn't mind.
The next time you went out for a dive he'd made another appearance, this time resting on the rocks instead of behind them. Looking at the way his tentacles gently swayed against the current, you realise the way they'd writhed restlessly the day before may have been a sign of anxiety. It tickled you that somehow, in his mind, you were a threat to be worried about. You'd never even been in a proper fight. His relaxed demeanor gave you a bit of courage and you contemplated offering him one of the lionfish but ultimately chose not to. Doing so would feel as though you were treating him like an animal at the petting zoo. Then again, he was watching you like an animal at a regular zoo, keeping his distance as if he thought you'd lash out at any opportunity. You focused on the task at hand. Either the sharks had developed more patience or they were full from yesterday, this time they seemed more interested in dawdling around and getting pets than playing Russian roulette with your spear. You'd gotten into a rhythm of pull, aim, release as you moved slowly across the sandy substrate with him never too far behind.
On the third day he was almost as close as the sharks were. There was still a respectful distance but you'd only have to reach out your hand to touch him. Despite your determination to hold strong as he approached there was a hint of fear in your eyes when he first got closer. He wasn't threatening but the size difference was all to blatant up close, his chest so broad and arms so thick you didn't doubt they could snap you in half like an oatmeal cookie. In response he seemed to try to make himself look smaller, drifting at a lower level so that his head wasn't much higher than yours. This gave you a good look at his features, he had round pupils unlike the rectangular slits you associated with octopi, his sclera was a light grey and his irises a saffron yellow on downturned eyes. He didn't seem to have any patchwork of iridescent scales like your work colleagues. His eyes aside, everything about his face was sharp, from the hooked nose to the prominent chin and brow bone. As curious as you were, you tried not to look any lower than the slits along his neck; gills, in case your gaze made him uncomfortable. You briefly wondered if he'd try to say something once he got closer but he didn't, he just looked back with a gesture you interpreted as 'continue'. So you did.
There actually weren't anymore lionfish nearby so you decided to take a moment to clip the spines of the one on your spear, hoping to feed it to Joel the eel... or maybe this was Geoffrey. He took this lull in your movement as an opportunity to interact. You stared wide eyed as his hands reached out. It looked as though he was going to reach for your spear but thought better of it and reached out for your free hand instead. He took your smaller hand into his much larger ones. He inspected each finger, pulling them apart and tracing the curve in between, where his held a thin membrane. He ran a thumb over your blunt nails, where his held thick black claw. His movements were slow - cautious - and you get the feeling that it was more for your benefit than his. Wary as you were, you were equally enthused to learn more of the man... fish... octopus being before you. He inspected the sleeve of your wetsuit, running his fingers over the material. When it seemed like he was going to pinch the fabric between two claws you tugged your hand away, shaking your head in hopes the gesture was universal. Thankfully he understood. He then circled you to take in the rest of your form, a possible sign he understood touching anywhere else on your body might be unwelcomed.
Unsurprisingly, he took particular interest in your legs, watching the way they swayed to keep you afloat. He didn't touch you yet you somehow felt pressure over every inch his eyes laid upon. Was this how your coworker felt during those awkward introductory meetings where there would always be one person asking to touch their fins. The memory made you giggle and the merman suddenly shifted his focus from your legs to your face. Your breath caught as his eyes focused on yours, it was mesmerizing how they looked as fluid as the ocean; the colors swaying as the black center zeroed in on you. For a moment you wondered what did you look like through those eyes. He raised a hand to rest his knuckles against your cheek. His gaze then lowered to your lips. Your body -so ready to flee when he first approached- now froze. No matter how much you tried to reinforce that his actions were of innocent curiosity you couldn't stop thinking they weren't. Or maybe you just hoped they weren't. Oh dear. Before you could figure out where your head was at, he pressed a thumb against your lips. There was a subtle shift in his features as he stared at you intently. A question? Was he asking to kiss you? Your heart sprinted. He wanted to kiss you... and you- you were actually considering it. You must be insane; yes you thought he was gorgeous in a unnatural -captivating- way but you weren't going to kiss a creature you haven't known for more than a few hours. You hadn't even exchanged words with him. Words... Oh! That was it! You would've face palmed if your hands weren't occupied. He wished to speak, and prior knowledge reminded you that merfolk could adapt a language through lip contact. Well, that cleared your brain a bit. If that's the case surely you could spare your lips for a moment. It wouldn't have to be long, just the slightest peck was enough. A fraction of a second. He was patiently awaiting your answer, somewhat pulling back as if to tell you 'no' was a more than acceptable answer. With a tad more hesitation you finally nodded. You pulled out your mouth pieces, angling it downwards to prevent excess air loss. Trying to show some initiative you moved closer but you just couldn't bring yourself to close the kiss. Graciously he did and your lips met. Your rushing blood brought heat straight to your cheeks. It was such a minute amount of contact but your body responded as if he was already tongue deep inside. You felt... something. Like faint streams of electricity that moved from the corners of your lips to the center before vanishing. You figured it was the magic at work, now would be the time to move away but your body and brain can't seem to get on the same page. Or maybe they were on the same page and the voice telling you to move away was something foreign, something unwanted. You opened your eyes to see his, half lidded but looking at you with an intensity that couldn't be misconstrued. Neither of you wanted to break the contact. You're not sure where the confidence came from but just as you moved to press closer to him, your lungs reminded you where you were. They called for oxygen. It took more effort than you would like to admit to pull away from him and return your regulator to your mouth. You looked back at him to see his fingers pressed against his mouth, eyes swirling with mixed emotions. Maybe it was your eyes playing tricks on you but you swear he licked his lips. His adam's apple bobbed in his throat and he moved his lips as if testing the motions.
"Can you understand me?"
You nodded in the affirmative. And by Gods, the smile on his face could outshine the sun on a clear summer morning.
This opened up the pathway to your budding friendship. Underwater, you couldn't have full conversations but with the barrage of questions he had there was hardly a need to speak. It especially amused you that he had to confirm that you were indeed human. Do humans walk everywhere? Do we forms pods? Do we dream? Do humans fly was a weird one to answer under the limitations. It was an eye opener to the fact that you were as alien to him as he you.
At some point you remembered that you were on a timer and though there wasn't really a quota, resurfacing with only four lionfish would definitely not look good for you. You went back to spearing, trying to be quick while he asked about this and that. It only got better when you finally resurfaced. You perched on the old abandoned dock, it was barely more than a couple planks of wood hanging on for dear life. You were especially glad that this area remained as vacant as when you left so you didn't have to worry about worried/wondering gazes at the two of you.
Unfortunately diving was only something you could do 2 maybe 3 times a week, it was essentially a freebie session offered to break up the office work you dread. Still, even after you clocked out, you'd take a stroll to that same dock where he'd be waiting beneath the surface. You learnt that, though most merfolk would declare otherwise, his species wasn't rare. Just distant and reclusive. The only reason he was close enough to the shore to spot me was because he seeked a precious stone to complete a trade. Based on his description you believed it was Larimar or Blue calcite, which you may have in your personal collection. When you asked why he decided to approach you, his answer was a sideways glance and a shrug before quickly changing the subject. There were moments, you noticed, when he'd rest his arms along the wooden planks and caress your overhanging legs. The movements were slow and feather light, almost absent minded. It made your mind fuzzy, you wished to just close your eyes and focus on nothing but the feel of his skin against yours. Occasionally, he would gently rake a claw over your soft skin and you'd try your best not to trip over your words. In return, you'd run your fingers over the mix of tentacles and tendrils that sprouted from his head- similar to hair. The prehensile limbs would wrap around your fingers. The gestures were unmistakably intimate but neither of you spoke against it. Amongst the many questions and conversations would be these moments of content silence, these you treasured most. His hands on you, your hands on his, as you both enjoyed the world around you and each other.
Now those memories fill you with a hollow feeling in your chest. It's been almost a week with no sign of him. What had you expected, really? He has a life down below that he has to attend to after all. Even you have missed a day or two. What if he's hurt? The question gnawed at you many times these past few days; you despised the small part of you that preferred that outcome over having been left behind. But then the idea that somewhere down there he was facing unknown perils that you'd have no means to help him with would solidify in your mind. No, you'd rather the hurt of having been abandoned. Summoning your mental fortitude, you aimed to focus on the task at hand before you accidentally harm one of the sharks by being distracted. There was a new face this time... at least you thought they were new. They nuzzled your body as if sensing your distress and to your delight; it helped
Seconds dragged into minutes then hours before it was time for you to get out. You wished you could say you were strong enough to just go but instead you swam around for a bit; hoping. Praying. But there was nothing around except you, the water and your pitiful heartache.
Above land you safely shed the equipment. The smart thing to do would be to go home as soon as possible. To finish your day, change your clothes and curl up in blankets while playing some video games. However, you've always been a creature of habit so instead you sat at the old dock. Alone. The sun was so warm but the winds were relentless, they licked at your skin as if trying to shoo you away. Maybe this was Poseidon's way of telling you to get over it. It's not like there was anything between the two of you. You'd only known him for a handful of weeks after all, that's barely enough time to form a friendship much less... As if shutting down the thought, your brain replayed a memory of him pressing his face against the palm of your hand with pure bliss etched into his features. As if your touch alone could push away all his problems. Then there was the time you touched your forehead to his during a momentary spur of boldness. The look he gave you spoke so loud in the silence. You would've kissed him then if not for your shyness winning out. That was one of the last moments you'd shared before his disappearance. A treasure in your heart that now caused you pain. Packing up your things, you got up to leave, however something clutched your ankle. Something, rather, someone you recognized all too well.
You gasped violently as you were dragged down. Thank goodness you did because it was all the air you'd get to take with you in your rapid decent below. He shifted so instead of being pulled by his tentacles, you were fastened to his side by a firm arm. He stared straight forward as he swam, allowing you only to see the tendrils whipping around the back of his head. You could hardly process how fast you were going down the bottomless blue. The water shifted from a bright, comfortimg azure to ultramarine as you went deeper and deeper. Your panic rose the further he swam, which did your lungs no good. Was he trying to drown you!? You couldn't call out, couldn't scream so you tugged and pulled at his thick, unyielding arm, trying desperately to get him to stop. He turned to you then, there was a look of pained and haunted thoughts scribed into his face. The lovely grey of his sclera had darkened into a soulless black making the yellows of his eyes that more vibrant, almost glowing in the waters inky depth. The word 'feral' again came to mind as he blinked his second eyelids. He looked at you and looked at you and looked even more. As though his eyes processed one thing but his brain was stuck on something else. It took a moment but he finally said your name. Not said, growled it. His usually velvety deep voice was now strained through gravel. He pulled you closer to him and buried his face in your hair, your heart would be fluttering were it not currently banging in your chest wondering where the hell was the oxygen it ordered. You tried, you really did, to struggle against his hold. Hoping he'd wake up from whatever spell he was under and bring you back to solid ground. Hell, you'd make an attempt to swim for it, knowing how futile it would be. But once his long tongue was on your throat you became putty in his arms. You feel three distinct fingers rake against the other side of your neck as he nipped at you. You can't tell if your breath hitched or your lungs made another vain attempt to reach for air. You raised a trembling hand, trying to alert him to your situation but he seemed solely focused on tasting your skin.
"Breathe." He spoke in-between licks, his tongue venturing down to your clavicle, and you wondered if he'd actually gone mad. His hooded eyes met yours and he repeated the word.
It didn't matter anymore, the choice was no longer yours. You had held onto that final breath for dear life but it was time for that life to come to an end. A stream of bubbles left your horrified lips as you now fought not to breath in; that was a far shorter battle. You inhaled, preparing for the sting of water invading your airways in it's rush to your desperate lungs. For your body to heave and cough as the waters reminded you you were not it's friend but a guest who had overstayed their welcome. Would your body float up to be picked at by birds or sink to be fodder for the sea floor scavengers? You waited and waited. But... It never came. You, somehow, were breathing air. Opening your eyes in confusion, you looked around to see if you were suddenly back on land, if all this was some dream or hallucination spurred on by your guilt and heartbreak but no. You were still surrounded by the open seas and all it's inhabitants. Your breaths felt slightly strained but you weren't going to complain about life saving miracles. Especially when a giant tentacled man was tracing his finger down your spine. Now that your life was no longer at risk(mostly) you calmly rest your palm against his head, trying again to get answers out of him. He stilled, dissolving into your touch as he had many times before. You saw a bit of clarity in his eyes before he closed them.
"I'm sorry." He said after a moment, his voice was lustful and strained, like a warning sign dipped in want and desire. "It started; my heat. I tried to stay as far away as I could but when all sense had escaped my mind the only thing left were thoughts of you." He pulled you closer, his eyes remained closed as if one look at you would break the little control he had. "I thought I had overcome it when I began searching for... Methods for you to survive beneath the waters. But the moment I had my answers it overtook me. It possessed me. It still does. I want you...desperately but only if you'll have me."
You listened to his words, in confusion then understanding. Then you actually understood! Oh! Suddenly your body had forgotten all it's woes, focusing on your core instead. He wanted you. You bit your lip in thought, noticing that the water couldn't pass some unseen threshold of your mouth. You wanted him, you couldn't even pretend to deny that but... Was there a 'but'? You searched your tainted mind for excuses but your brain and your body were again in unison, the only outlier was you. You slid your hand up his face and caressed a cranial tendril, he opened his eyes and you felt his body vibrate. Purring.
You didn't have the courage to look him in the eye when you spoke. "I will." You consented.
He was on you instantly. His lips crashed into yours with reckless need. There was no slow build up, no questioning nor tentative tongue touches. His tongue snaked pass your lips and devoured you in kind. His large hands ran down either sides of your body, meeting when they both grabbed at your ass. There they lingered, kneading your flesh through the stretchy materiel, before one devious hand ventured even lower. You felt him slide a finger along the fabric covering your sex. Back and forth, his finger glided creating a nice little friction that almost touched your eager clit. Your hips moved on their own, seeking the contact. You craved more of his touch and suddenly the thin, synthetic rubber was a dense barrier. As if hearing your thoughts, there was the slightest pinch against the crook of your behind before a sudden coldness seeped in. You could feel him carefully swipe his claw to just above your clit, creating a opening in the fabric. The new sensation of cold wetness against you warm sex made you gasp but it was soon replaced by the warmth of his... hand? No, the texture was far different. Before you had a chance to investigate, the feeling of suction against your clit gave you all the answers you needed. Something between a gasp and a moan left your lips, the sound must've pleased him greatly because he tore himself away from your mouth to look into your eyes. The limb covered your whole sex, with the tip lightly teasing your entrance but it was that one suction cup upon your clit that was really putting in the work. It took a rhythm that was brain meltingly pleasant against the sensitive bud, thoroughly teased by his phantom touches prior. A sudden surge of pleasure began to build causing you to reflexively try to squeeze your thighs together. However, the action was impeded by two tentacles quickly wrapping around your legs to keep them parted. They squeezed as if to reaffirm their hold on you. He took your chin in his hand and watched you intensely as you came undone from the stimulation. His grip was light but unyielding when you tried to turn away. Closing your eyes would lead to him stopping completely until they fluttered open again to meet his. He would take in every dip in your throat, every curve in your lips, every crease beneath your eyes and flush upon your cheeks. He wouldn't miss a moment of your first orgasm at his hands. His gaze was dizzying, as if whatever possessed him was now reaching out for you. Having him inspect you with such cold fondness only made the experience that more salacious. The rising tide of pleasure finally crashed and you were left a buzzing, panting mess. With a look of gratification he released your chin, wrapping his arms around you once more to knit your body to his.
"You're so beautiful." He cooed before trailing off into words of his own language.
You didn't get a moment to say anything back before you felt something probe against your opening. One of his tentacles slid inside you fully, welcomed and aided by the slick lube of your still pulsing walls. You shuddered in his arms, thankful for the support. It was a comfortable fit and suddenly you're reminded that it's been ages since anyone has had you like this. It made the experience slightly more alien atop the fact that you were being intimate with a lust driven sea-beast. Rather than the expected thrusting, the appendage grazed along your insides. It twisted and pushed as if getting a feel for you, learning you before pulling back out. The sudden emptiness made you whimper, you looked at him, ready to beg if need be but it didn't come to that. You felt your entrance being prodded again. It was the familiar tip of a tentacle, ready to enter you once more. However, the more it pushed, the wider it got; so very much wider. And Gods, it held a bumpy texture that was absent before. Just as your mind went hazy you realised it was two of them, wrapped around each other. It finally gave you the thrusting motion you desired, it's ribbed texture grazing parts of you that remained untouched for too long. Your movements were limited but you attempted to grind against each wonderful thrust, moaning your delight with feather light whispers. This was all too good, soft and pliable enough that it writhed inside you but firm enough to press against your hungry womb.
Despite all senses seemingly being focused on your trembling hole you felt something press against your stomach, forcing it's way into the tiny space between your body and his. You peek downward to see the spearheaded tip of what you assumed was his cock. Suddenly, his preparation of your cunt made sense, you'd expected him to be big but geez. It was identical in color to his body, darkening at the tip in a similar fashion to his fingers. It throbbed and twitched as he began to grind against you. Even with two tentacles stretching your insides, your greedy eyes craved the feel of it. Craved the connection to him. You reached down and grasped it at the base, shock almost pulling you out of your haze when it wrapped around your hand. It tightened as if begging for more of your touch. You acquiesced and began running you hands up and down his massive length, taking great pleasure in the way his body vibrated with resonating groans. His thrusts inside you growing wilder, taking you further and further and you were determined to take him with you. His voice held a softer, pleading tone as it goaded you on, praising you between strained hisses. His cock swelled and hardened, his words devolving into senseless mumbles. The limbs inside you became more erratic as his pleasure grew. His grip on your body tightening to the point of leaving small tears in your suit and nicks in your skin. He released a long animalistic huff as he coated your arm in slimy white fluid, your body responded by coating his tentacles with your own. You rest your head against his chest, moving in time with his heavy breaths, counting them as you both recovered. You're not sure when he began moving you but suddenly you were face to face. He kissed you. Slowly. Gently. Tasting and savoring you.
"Do you think you could take me, my treasure, or do I need to stretch that greedy hole of yours even more?" He asked between kisses.
Words were beyond your tired brain so you just nodded. As spent as your body was, this moment would not feel complete until he was inside you. Slowly, as if moving you too much too quickly could break you, he turned you around so that your back was pressed against his chest. He snaked his hands around you -he really did seem to love having his arms on you-, one hand moving to grope your breast while the other traced a line down your stomach to caress your mound. You feel his lower half angle itself to bring his leaking member to your slick opening. Oh so slowly you feel him slide into you, spreading you wider with each inch. You couldn't help but try to squirm against him but his hands held you steady. He was only half way in when your body began to show resistance. He started pulling out slowly and thrusting into you, getting a little bit further each time.
"You're being so good for me." He whispered just above your ear, his voice held a lovely cadence. Singsong; as if haunted by a melody that compelled his body to move.
You couldn't hear it but you felt it, it rang through your body with each sway of your hips and out your lips with each whine. Down to the way he held you, like an instrument to be adored. Every moan a crescendo and every voice stopping bite at your neck a diminuendo. He was playing you and you were loving every moment of it. In and out, in and out like he was timing bars on sheet music. That was up until the flat, tapered tip hit the deepest part of you; he'd hilted. Then everything stopped. Fermata. You're only warning for what was to come were the tentacles that slithered around your legs to ground you. You hardly even felt him pull out, just the force as he thrust fully into you. The sound that left your mouth was a guttural whine of shock and pain. He kept going. Slamming. Pounding. Taking your body over and over. It hurt and yet you desired more. He fucked you like he was craving this moment his whole life. Your body eased and the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure, never quite leaving but become something more. Something better. Something wholy obscene. Your body was an inferno in the cold, dark water. Pleasure overtook you; you no longer felt like a person, just a mass of emotions and senses. You could hear his grunts and growls behind you, the sounds he made were truly animalistic. Wild. Primal. Savage. As though he couldn't fathom being anything but a creature of vulgarity. Couldn't fathom doing anything but driving himself into you. Desired nothing more in the world than to fill the emptiest parts of you. Your walls tightened around him, as if intending to learn every bulge and vein of his cock. Pulling and sucking him in with no desire to let him go, that was where all your strength went. You felt the recognizable build of another orgasm and judging by way his pliable member was now a hardened monolith, he wasn't far off. He no longer needed to lead, you danced with him as you both came together. His seed seeped out of him, filling every bit of (nonexistent)space inside of you before oozing out. He continued to thrust, making sure you milked his cock for everything he had. It's throbbing was like a heartbeat inside you.
You collapsed against him, laying your head flat against his chest, your cheek barely touching the flesh above his heart. After a moment you looked up to see him already staring down at you, the affection in his eyes fueled your already thrumming heart. A moment of tenderness as the tainted waters surrounding you both whisked your indecencies away. His sclera lightened to their usual soft grey. An eagerness popped up on his face as he seemingly wanted to ask you something then but thought better of it. A somber look taking over his features instead. Using what little strength remained in your body, you turned fully to him. He immediately took your head in both his hands and rest his forehead against yours.
"I- Did i hurt you?"
"Did-" You gave him a droll look. "Did you hurt me??" You flicked his head. Well, you tried but there was less than no force behind your fingers. "Of course you did. Lucky for you I enjoyed it."
"I'm so sorry, I'll be gentler next time." He sounded genuinely apologetic. "If you would allow for a 'next time'."
"There better be."
"And a time after that?"
"Don't push your luck, ocean boy."
You felt him smile against you. It may have been an innocent one but you couldn't help but wonder if he was already plotting.
He took you above land after that and you thanked the Gods above that your towel and pack was still waiting for you. At least you could walk(limp) to the company building without catching a charge for indecent exposure. He watched you from his usual spot on the dock. His downturned eyes hooded by his lashes had him looking like a distraught child watching their best friend board a plane to unknown lands. Did he think he scared you away? That you'd never return? Maybe as a bit of revenge you'd let him believe it.
((You also had to deal with the urge to sink into the floor at the knowing and amused looks on your merfolk coworker's face every time they saw the marks on your neck D:))
#monster boy#monster lover#monsterfucker#merfolk#monster x human#monster romance#monster smut#teratophillia#exophelia#kyumiwrites#monster writing#tentacles#tentaclesandtendrils
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
He’s a selfish dragon. He knows he should let you go, free you from the tower your father so cruelly placed you in. That would be the humane thing to do. Alas, he is no human. He was—and is—monstrous beast of legend, yet here he remains just as much a prisoner as you after being outsmarted by your father. He should hate you for even having that wretched man’s blood, but your golden heart beckons to him. He is a dragon, after all, and he would be remiss to ignore treasure when he sees it.
He’s hoarding you away, an avaricious move that goes beyond his duty to fight off your suitors until one bests him. He won’t let them take you; it doesn’t matter how hard they try.
You became his the moment you were both charged with this tower.
And dragons will do anything to keep their things.
#ngl I just wanted to write about dragons#dragon#agora writes#agora writes monsters#dragon x reader#royalty au#monster boyfriend#monster lover#monster#monster writing#agora writes yandere#gender neutral reader#gn reader#neuvilette x reader#zhongli x Reader#genshin#genshin impact#dan hang#dan heng x reader#zhongli#neuvillette#any dragon works#fantasy au#yandere zhongli#yandere neuvillette#yandere genshin#yandere dan heng#honkai star rail#yandere honkai star rail
840 notes
·
View notes
Text
-Puppy Love-
-Trigger Warnings: Dub-Con, Sexual Content, Animalistic Behavior, Slight Gore, Mentions of Blood/Claws, Pouncing on reader, Violence, Monster, knotting
-Pairing: Male Werewolf x gn Vampire!reader
INTRO:
His hot breath fans across my face. His heavy body lays atop me, warming my cold skin. His eyes look at me as if I'm his prey, entirely forgetting about the mangled corpse that lies just a few feet away. This look is one of a man that has been starved for years and has just caught sight of his favorite treat. It runs chills across my spine and I can almost feel my once pumping heart skipping a beat. This is wrong, so very wrong, it wasn't meant to be like this but how hard it is to refuse him when he begs me so earnestly with those puppy dog eyes.
The night was a full moon, the perfect time for a hunt, though the human that had caught my eye seemed to think otherwise. Instead it decided to make this way harder with running from me. ‘Great.’ I cursed with annoyance but before I could even go after the blood bag, a ball of dark brown fur barreled in front of me towards the panicking human. The human could barely get even 10 more feet away till it was caught in the teeth of the fury creature.
To say I was pissed is an understatement. This mangy mutt just stole my meal right from under me. “Hey! That was my catch!” He didn't even bother to look up from what was supposed to be my drink for the night, instead he just kept ripping apart pieces of flesh and eating with no care for cleanliness, like some damn rabid animal.
I couldn't hold back my anger any longer from this insolent bastard. I walked up to him and with all my strength I ripped him off the mangled flesh, pinning him to a tree so we are chest to chest or more like my face to his chest. He was tall to say the least, I had to crank my neck back to meet his eyes.
I bared my fangs at him, hissing in a warning as he snarled a low grumble. “Get. Off. Me.”
His growled words did not faze me in my blinded rage. “That was MY catch, you damned fleabag!” I shouted at him, unable to comprehend my own anger and annoyance, “You were too slow.” He smirked, baring his canines at me “That's your excuse!” This guy was pushing my patience.
“Food is food, I don't need an excuse to eat, angel.” I paused, the word of endearment he had called me caught me off guard as I stared wide eyed at him in silence, a warmth spreading across my face, most of me disgusted at what he had called me and the other half kinda lik- I quickly shook my head as I noticed him still staring at me with that stupid ass smirk. “Just! stay out of my way you mangy mutt!” “Anything for you angle” He winked at me as I let him go, shoving him a bit as I did so. He then left, without even another glance at neither the once living prey nor me.
—----------------------------------------------------
A month had passed since that annoying encounter and instead of staying out of my way, he seemed to be popping up even more. Always to intercept or disturbed my meals and always with that. Same. Stupid. Smirk. “Having a nice meal angle?” “To slow, again angle” “Fancy seeing you hear angle.” He's a pest that's what he is, a pest that I can't get rid of.
I was once again back on another hunt that had turned successful. As I stood in the midst of the dark forest with my fangs deep in the neck of an unsuspecting human girl. Drops of blood ran down my chin as I drank my fill, humming with delight of finally getting something to drink after days without anything because of that pesky mutt.
Sadly my peace was quickly cut short at the sound of rapid footsteps approaching and the heavy scent of musk filling my sense of smell to a point that it made my head spin and my mind turn foggy. I was brought out of my haze by the feeling of my back hitting the cold forest ground. A large frame was above me, laying all its wait on my body, pinning me between the ground and its warm body. Its pants brushed over my face with a scent of iron on its breath.
As I looked up I was pissed to see the one and only smug ass fleabag laying on top of me. Though It took me a bit to notice that instead of having his usual smirk, he looked at me with a flushed face and begging eyes. It was disgusting how that cocky bastard could revert to such a state with no shame, has he no self respect?
That thought was further solidified as he started to grind against me and to my horror, his length was already hard and prodding at my clothed entrance. He whined and whimpered into my ear. “Please, please, Please~” He begged over and over again. A blush now starting to arise on my cheeks without my wanting. The scent of him started to make ressisting become even harder as it clouded my mind. This was wrong, this was SO wrong. Our kinds are enemies, we would become outcasts if anyone ever found out but no matter how wrong it was, it just felt. So. Very. Right. So in my foggy state my resistance faltered and I said “Yes.”
He wasted no time in ripping off every piece of clothing that was separating our bodies from each other. After throwing the tattered pisces somewhere behind him, he put his body flush against mine once again. His fur was softer than I had imagined and the scent of him seemed to be embedded into every strand of brown fur. He rubbed himself against me, scenting my body and providing stimulation to his weeping cock that hung between us, hard and much larger than anything I could imagine. “That's not going to fit!” I cried to him, he responded with licks to my face, cleaning off the blood from my chin. If this was his way of trying to comfort me it definitely was not working.My mind panicked, knowing that this was going to hurt.
He positioned himself between my legs and with his clawed hands, pulled my feet to rest on his shoulders, bending me to better angle his head to my quivering hole. I had thought maybe some side of him was still rational and he would at least take it slow but I guess I underestimated his animalistic side, because within a few seconds he slammed into me with a forceful thrust, sheathing his whole cock inside of me with one movement. His hands held my hips to keep me in place, which further intensified the feeling of his length filling every inch inside of me.
My mouth had fallen agape in a silent scream. My back arching off the ground as he continued to thrust into me, not giving my body a single second to adjust to his size. My hands clambered for something to hold on to, finding the soft fur of his back and griping the fur with all my strength, pulling every so often, making a low groan come from the whimpering beast above me.
He sped up his movements, thrusting into my depths like an animal in heat. I look down to where his cock is spreading to me only to see a bump from right above my pelvis every time he enters me. Just the sight pulls a moan from my throat.
I throw my head back when he angles himself that hits a spot inside of me, immediately drawing me to an orgasam that leaves my body trembling with pleasure. My hole grips around his length as he continues to thrusts. I start to feel the base of his cock grow, stretching me even more and with one last thrust deep inside of me, he releases his seed with a loud moan, collapsing on top of me.
Pants are all that are heard in the dark forest, his body rests on me as we come down from our highs. The knot at the base of his cock connects us and makes it impossible to detach from each other without something being damaged. After a few minutes he raises his head to look at me, a smirk back on his face. He moves to pick me up from the ground, my legs dropping to wrap around his waist. As he holds me to be level with his smug face. He says one thing that makes my whole body both turn frigid and go completely hot. “My Mate.” Shit.
#gore#werewolf#male werewolf#werewolf x vampire#vampire reader#gn reader#werewolf x gn reader#werewolf x reader#dub con#dark romance#forbidden romance#smut#monster#monster smut#fanfic#monster writing#monster fucker#monster fanfic#monster stories#dark smut#monster oneshot#oneshots#oc x reader#x reader#nb reader#divider by cafekitsune
502 notes
·
View notes
Text
Demon Knight: Odel
[I plan on making a part 2, I just needed to write something, to begin with!]
Support me on Ko-fi!~ - Patreon
Part 1 | Part 2
Ad Laetitiam et Pacem
“It is set in ink. I will not hear anymore else of it,” your father, the King declared. “You will marry Lord Meriweather’s son by the arrival of spring.”
Perhaps in the hopes of pleasing your father, you would have heeded to words, to remain dutiful as princess of the realm and make your family proud.
That same night when you heard of your fate, you prepared to dress comfortably in a washerwoman’s ensemble, before slipping out the high window.
To hell with the arrangement, I would rather live a life of celibacy. This fate will not ruin my life.
The third daughter out of six and the eighth out of eleven living children, you had many brothers and sisters older that would be set for better matches from well-known lords and ladies. Yet, you were not put to become queen or to be married off to a wealthy lord, you were assigned to marry a minor lordling, his youngest son feeble and health ailing.
Of all the four sons of Lord Meriweather’s brood, you had to be matched with one with no proper destiny. Hugh was sickly and frail, not a knight or the heir to his father’s land, he was predestined to nothingness, and upon your first meeting with him, you snidely advised he was better suited to abstinence than to displeasing his future wife.
To your dissatisfaction, it had to be you that would be disappointed.
The moonlight acted as your only guide as you run blindly through the streets of the capital. Dead of life with only a few patrolling, you were able to squeeze into dark shadows, ducking and weaving before you found yourself on the outskirts of the capital. Its high, towering walls were manned, but you covered your face with your hood, ducking your head as you run out, away from the life you knew.
The adrenaline pumped swiftly in your chest, and a sense of freedom was overwhelming as the smile broadened on your face, racing your body as fast as you could through the woods.
Months of planning had come underway, and the only place you knew would be deserted; was Whitehaven Hold.
Your other option could’ve been to stay with your older sister, Alinor. Eight years your senior, she was married at eight-and-ten to a well-known and comely lord, giving him babes a year into their marriage.
Father will know I will go to her. You knew it would be a rooky mistake. He knew how much you loved your sister, how you missed her dearly after she was sent away to live the rest of her days in someone else’s castle.
Your older brother, Cassius was four-and-twenty, acting as a scholar in the south, but they did not accept women to the life of academics. No, it would’ve been harder to dress as a man to be accepted into his school.
It was a day or two away, and you spent your nights by a fire, rummaging for food and keeping what stale biscuits you hid in your dress pockets. You lay, wide awake, with no knowledge of where exactly you could go next.
The morning came easily when you arrived at the sight, a smouldering heat and smoke billowing from the mess in front of you.
Whitehaven Hold was a twisted, horrid sight. The battlements for a two-hundred-year war, its walls were burnt and destroyed, the stone had crumpled as it burnt and melted like candles, thousands burning inside. It acts as a haunted sight for travellers, with no Lord or Lady sane enough to reside there.
You entered through the battered doors, cold and damp easily enveloped you as you shuddered, looking around. It had been quickly looted of items by travellers, with not a sight of heirlooms or gold in sight. What remained was tattered and worn furniture, rooms dark and clammy and all the very same.
I’m not staying here before I lose my mind. You thought in disgust, but the thought of residing brought you to chuckle. The Lady of Whitehaven Hold- imagine the look on father’s face. It would not be good to stay a day or two before the cold enters your system and bring the chill quickly. It ached in your chest, not knowing where you could go next. South, always south. Away from it all.
The rooms were simple and easy to roam, a large, broken dining hall, fit for a Lord, wife and many heirs, its kitchen located on the far side. The table was battered and disarrayed, little to nothing scattered that remained of contents of food and dirt. You continued, walking past the cold entrance, up towards what remained of the grand staircase.
Spotting at the very top, are three displays of suits of armour, posing in similar positions. Their hands were positioned to have a greatsword in their hands, but only one remained in the grasp, the one in the middle.
You observed its armour, shinier and similar to molten black obsidian, it gleamed as if recently polished. You flicked your finger across the armour, its armour hummed low as you dragged across its armour to inspect for dirt.
“Hmph, just as I thought. A collectable.” You scoffed, wiping the grime from your finger as you stared up into its helm. The helmet was a beautiful display, gleaming in brilliance, except when you looked into the eyeless sockets of its eyes, something was not supposed to be there.
Eyes staring back. Alit with burning, enraged flames.
“There is little of me that I would class as a collectable,” a low, rumbling voice boomed, startling you rigid. You stepped back, towards the staircase, watching in horror. The talon-like fingers twitched momentarily, before another jolted with life, the whole hand was soon moving with existence.
The suit of armour slowly and lazily tested its movements, its long leg swung forward, groaning and choking as the armour moved. His fiery stare was towards you, raging with anger. “You are not meant to be here. You are trespassing.”
“No one lives here.”
“The Lord of Whitehaven Hold resides here, and I must protect my Lord from all.”
To your surprise, his fingers jerked to grip the hilt of his deadly sword tighter, a flash of silver startled you as he unsheathed the mighty weapon, before you were staggering, sprinting back down the stairs, hearing the squeaks of worn armour following hotly behind.
Leaving through the front door was an easier move, but with adrenaline pumping quickly in your chest. You stumbled and fell, your body kicking to keep moving, to hide, to do anything to get away from the deadly sword.
Something swung just behind you, a scream bubbling over you as his sword got caught into the wall, clinging with a hiss as it hit the wall and avoid taking a chunk out of you. You continued to run, in hopes you could find anywhere to hide, but no matter, the knight was hot on your tail.
You swept around the table, the knight rounding the other side, eyes flaming with the sword ready to swing before something caught his eye, something behind you. His sword lowered as he took in the damaged painting behind you, and you too turned to see what it was he was looking over.
The painting was of no doubt, the old Lord of Whitehaven Hold, yet he had been the first and last during the two-hundred-year war, murdered by conspirators who took over his castle after their coup.
There was a sadness that filled the knight’s eyes, lowering his sword, his entire demeanour changed to become defeated. “He’s gone?” His voice was gravelly and soft.
“He was murdered two-hundred years ago,” you spoke carefully, still gazing periodically towards the silver of his large sword. “There has not been another lord of this Hold since.”
The knight did not answer for a moment, looking at the painting with a solemn gaze that was so vivid without seeing the rest of his face. “Oh,” was the only word he spoke, before he sheathed his sword, marching back and away from the hall, back up towards the stairs.
“Hey, where are you going?” You stared in disbelief, uneasily tailing behind him a few feet. You watched how he climbed the stairs stiffly, moving back towards his display.
“I am no longer needed,” he spoke quietly. “I am free from my pact.”
“Pact from what?”
“The pact grants anyone who rules this hold the protection and my sword.” He moved towards to set himself in his display once more, propping the sword out to rest between his hands once more. You were by the bottom of the stairs, cautiously standing there. “I am no longer needed.”
Your cheeks heated the same way a child would grow in a tantrum. “Well, what if I became the next resident?”
His eyes peered over you, wide and in incredulously. “You’re a mere washerwoman.”
You remembered your clothing, the ones you snuck out in, and you knew you had no way of making him believe you. “Would you believe me if I said I was a Princess—and runaway one?”
He scoffed light-heartedly. “You’re rather funny, aren’t you?”
“I am!” You insisted. “My father is the current King, Cassius XV. My oldest brother is Crown Prince Isolde. My mother, Queen Adora, was forty when she passed, giving birth to my youngest sister, Margarita.” You told him your name, the one you despised using.
He did not answer once again, yet he seemed amused. “Anyone could know that of the current rulers.”
“I can read that,” you pointed towards the small display name, written in the old language of Ald, passed down to royalty and nobles to keep alive. “Would a washerwoman know about the culture and language of Ald? Would a washerwoman even know how to read?”
“Maybe so,” he assessed warily. “What is a princess like yourself doing out here?”
“My father wished to have me married off.”
He inquired amusedly. “You ran away from your betrothal? I don’t think I’ve heard of such a thing before.”
“You don’t know many princesses.” You muttered.
“Perhaps,” he mused. “It is known many Princesses of the past have been fond of comely knights and princes from far lands. It would be their dream to be married off.”
“Hugh Meriweather looks more weasel than man.”
The knight looked perplexed, but he did chuckle at your words. “Weasel, you say? I’m unsure there is some tale of a Princess and a weasel.”
Fairy tales are nightmares in reality. Just stories to keep girls happy. You thought. “It isn’t some fairy tale. I have no say in who I can love.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “That is why I’m here. Running away from the fate destined for me; misery, squeezing out babes and dying from childbed fever. You wouldn’t have to worry about being wedded off, you’re just a piece of talking armour.”
The silence that followed your passing words made you realise that you may have overstepped. You peered over at him, and though his face was shielded, you could tell your words had insulted him.
“You’re talking to a piece of talking armour.” He jeered and your cheeks had rouged once more in embarrassment. “What then, little Princess? You believe your father would not find you here?”
“He can sure try to.” You huffed. “I will not leave here.”
If he had eyebrows, you could be sure he had a face of exasperation. “You think you’ll have protection here?”
You shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re here.”
“I’m free from my pact, however.” He recalled.
“What about forming a pact with me? It can’t be that bad.” You said excitedly, too naively to think anything of it. You’ve had knights in service of protecting you your entire life: how different could this be?
“Princess,” his voice was laced with unease. “If you go ahead with this, you will need to sacrifice something of your life.”
Your silence was a tell-tell sign that you were uncertain. Sacrifice something, like what? You thought about the things you had to you: you had no titles to own, no claim to the throne, so you couldn’t give that up (you doubted you would’ve if you did own one). It seemed like an easy deal, yet nothing came to mind for you to give in return, until—
“I shall give you my hand in marriage.”
The knight recoiled almost as if he had been burnt in his ink-black armour, his demeanour changed to seem hesitant, almost incredulous to your offer. “What about Hugh the weasel? You don’t think I’m a married man already?” He asked.
“You wouldn’t be here if you were already married now, would you? You would be with your lady wife.”
He seemed pleased by your words, stepping forth towards you, around the table, before he was standing in front of you. His full height towered easily over you, and you imagined what he looked like without the helmet on him.
“I, swear by my name and honour, to protect and keep you in my stay, for as long as you may live. I am yours, Princess," he says. "I will shield your back and give you my life in the moment of need.”
You easily presented your hand to him to take into his, there was warmth oddly in his armoured fingers, and his obsidian suit of armour hummed and almost felt as if it was burning up on the inside before the knight brought your hand to his lips to place a kiss to your knuckles.
“Arise, sir-“
“Odel. Sir Odel.”
#demon#demon oc#demon boyfriend#demon knight#princess reader#female reader#monster writing#itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes#demon monster#monster x reader#monster x human#monster lover
813 notes
·
View notes
Text
fairy(she/her) x orc(he/him)
cw: size kink, mutual marsturbation, bit of degredation
mutual masturbation, the fairy sitting against the headboard, fucking herself with a dildo that’s just a liiiittle too big and the orc on his knees hovering in front of her, jerking off at the sight of her struggling to take the dildo
the orc is taunting her, “awe pretty baby, is it too much? how are you ever gonna be able to take me? can’t even take this fake cock, look at the mess you’re creating,”
and the fairy is soooo filled up, tummy bulging, and brain empty. can’t even answer him except for a couple of moans and whimpers at his words
it’s all too much for the fairy so the orc has to take over, fucking the dildo into her at a punishing pace as she’s bent over his knee, she’s so wet and messy, juices running down her legs and creating wet spots on the sheets,
he’s making her come AT LEAST 3 times before using her wetness to finish himself off, cumming all over her stomach and chest
after he’s covered her in his come he takes the dildo again, coats it in his cum and starts fucking her with it again, “gotta get this in your sweet cunt where it belongs, don’t you think darling?”
#exobunny.#bunnydreams.#fairy x orc#fairy x orc smut#monster smut#monster writing#monster fiction#exophilia#terato
264 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'll have you know that I talked with friends ages ago about Shepard resting her cheek in his palm about how much trust you have to have bc god turians could rip you(a human) apart!
Then you put it in writing and I nearly combusted. I have to take some floor time.
I can tell that the fic is gunna destroy me in the best way
Dude, don't get me started on the topic of physical vulnerability in romance/sex! You already have though, so here goes, sorry (I'm not).
As an unashamed monster fucker/monster romancer, this is what it's all about! There is something so moving, so entrancing about a character finding safety, comfort, and pleasure from a character that possesses traits that frighten others, especially physically. Scenes where Belle softened her nerves and touched Beast tenderly shook me as a child! The bravery, vulnerability, and kindness it took is so touching. His huge mits that just swipe wolves away, the sharp claws on his thick fingers...and she just puts her tiny little hand in his, trusting him to be gentle with her! UGH! My heart.
Have you watched or read The Ancient Magus Bride? It's probably my favorite monster themed story. There's this scene where Elias (who looks scary even in his "normal" form) busts out into full scary monster mode and just SHREDS something that hurts Chise, and when it's over he's self conscious and ashamed, not wanting her to see him like that, and her reaction is so beautiful! She accepts him as is, and offers him assurance and kindness. UGH! My heart!
Monster fucking/romancing, to me at least, is all about accepting someone who's different, but it's also about finding comfort and safety in something you're supposed to fear. It's about finding beauty and attraction in features you're supposed to fear, like sharp claws/talons, sharp teeth, etc. It's about a character allowing themself to be vulnerable and trust that the other character is going to be tender. Because that's what love really is, right? Exposing your vulnerabilities to someone and trusting that they'll treat you with tenderness. That you'll open yourself up to someone, letting them see all of your imperfections and insecurities, and they'll still love you, protect you, be gentle with you. Portraying this emotional vulnerability through literal physical vulnerability just works so beautifully. It's a literal "you could hurt me right now, but I'm going to trust you and give myself to you anyway."
Ok, and there's also a lot of great play between pleasure and pain in sex scenes, if you're into that. Talons pinching into thighs, teeth raking across skin, etc.
So yes I will jump at any chance to depict this. Garrus and Shepard fit this so well because turians are apex predators, their teeth and talons are sharp, they look fast and agile, and god damn are they beautiful. And they're tall and have huge hands! They're ripe for monster fucking/romancing themes. In this fic in particular (it was titled Invisible String originally but the rewritten version will be titled and posted as Singularity) vulnerability and trust will play important roles in Shepard and Garrus's relationship, so of course I had to bust out some displays of trust juxtaposed with scary anatomy. Garrus in Archangel mode is a threatening sight (which I effing love), so having Shepard meet him and find comfort and safety in his presence gets my heart beating.
I'm so happy you enjoyed that little bit where she rests her cheek in his palm! There will be lots of Shepard seeking comfort from a dom-leaning Garrus in that fic.
I hope to post soon, but my silly brain is telling me it's not good enough yet so I keep poking at it. Crossing my fingers that the rest of the chapter makes you combust too 😊
Thanks for sending me this! I'll always get up on a podium to talk Shepard/Garrus, romance writing, and monster loving ❤️
#shakarian#garrus vakarian#commander shepard#garrus x shepard#shepard x garrus#elias ainsworth#the ancient magus bride#beauty and the beast#monster romance#monster fucking#asks and replies#monster writing
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Catfolk
Chapter Three: A Quiet Afternoon
Summary: Just as you settle in, Jargal thinks it’s time to stir the pot.
Warnings: cursing
Word count: 1984
It was weird and still a little bit scary.
It has been a week since you agreed to stay with the Maeko, and although they lived very differently like the people at the mansion, it wasn't too hard to learn the ropes of being with the catfolk.
You stayed in Bataar's hut. You don't know how, but you missed the stairs to the upper floor when you first arrived and looked for a weapon. There wasn't anything special up there, just a bed and a few trophies he hunted down over the years. You slept on the furs downstairs, it was warm and surprisingly cozy.
During the first days, you didn't dare to leave his side. You learned that he was the chieftain of the Maeko, the tribe of tigerlike catfolk. At least, most of them were tigers, since there were a few exceptions among them. Like Duren, a kind lioness who helped you prepare food, and Ekna, the cheetah. She was direct and a bit rough with her words, she didn't speak your language that well, but she made sure you understood all the tasks she gave you.
And of course, there was Jargal, the black panther that still terrified you whenever you saw him. He snarled and stared at you with a gaze that could kill. Duren and Ekna said that you shouldn't worry about him that much, since it was Bataar who took you in, and he didn't question his choices that much.
Still, you tried your best to stay out of that panther's way.
Bataar, on the other hand, was so much different. He had a lot to do during the day, but he took time to check up on you, making sure that everyone treated you right and such. Every night, he escorted you back to the hut, asking you about your day. It warmed your heart and you felt nothing but gratitude towards him.
But it made you wonder.
"How can it be that Bataar doesn't have a mate?", you asked one day while you sat down with Ekna and Duren to wash some clothes.
"What do you mean?" The cheetah perked up her ears curiously as she asked.
"He is so nice and always ready to help everyone. And he is the chieftain! Why is he leaving alone?"
"Well", Duren sighed, "It wasn't like that all the time. He had a mate, her name was Yagan."
"She was strong and kind, and they had many cubs!", Ekna added with a sour smile.
"But she died a few years ago, and ever since, Bataar hasn't had anyone in his bed."
It made sense. You remain silent for a while. Poor Bataar. You only knew him for a week now, but you already had a feeling that you wanted him to be happy. He truly cared about his tribe and wanted the best for everyone.
Once you finished the clothes and parted ways with the females, you realized that this was the first time that there wasn't any kind of task left for you. There was still plenty of food for yourself and Bataar, you already fed the chickens and cleaned up the house in the morning, and now that you were done with the washing too, there was nothing left to do.
You took a deep breath from the warm afternoon. For all your life, you were a servant, and while you did a very similar job here too, it was still different. They didn't make you stay, you were not the Maeko's or Bataar's possession.
You were more or less free, and it was still a lot to take in.
So after a little walk around the hut, you decided to find Bataar and ask him if you could help him in any way.
In the morning he always took a long walk around the village, just inspecting everyone and everything. After that, he spent his time with his warriors and hunters, making plans for their next move. The Maekos were hunters and adventurers, always seeking something new, for trading all kinds of goods, but also, just for the thrill of it. And you liked that - it was so different from your past life, it offered something fresh, something new.
But for the afternoon, it was hard to predict where to find him. Sometimes he went out for a quick hunt or trained with his warriors, but you often found him having a nap in the shade of a tree.
So you just paced around in the village. After a while, the Maeko got used to your presence, and there were no side eyes toward you. Although, you weren't the first human in the village. Ekna and Duran already told you that there were many times that tribe took in humans. In the past, there were human slaves around the village at all times, but the tradition of slaves faded away for good for a while now. It was never forbidden for humans to join the Maeko if they were worthy. And you also learned that some of the catfolks got a bit too excited about their new human neighbors, so much so that from neighbors they quickly became mates.
You still didn't know how to feel about that.
"How is it feel like to be the chieftain's little fucktoy, human?"
You almost jumped as you heard a raspy voice from behind. You turned back with a little yelp immediately, and your blood went cold.
There was Jargal, leaning against a tree, polishing his knife with a cloth, with a glare on his face. He was taller than you, and as he only wore a leather vest on his upper body, you could see the muscles under his fur, and it didn't make him less scary. You were in such a panic that for a while you didn't even realize what he just said.
"His what?" you muttered with confusion, and the beast laughed.
"Don't pretend like you have no clue what am I talking about." He put the knife back onto his belt with a huff and closed the distance between you. You wanted to back away, but your back hit a wall. He squeezed you between the wall of a hut and his bulky, muscular body.
"I thought after losing Yagan he would never pick anyone else, but he couldn't resist your soft little body, right?" he growled, with a smile that made you shiver. "You trembling like a bunny, huh? He should take better care of his belongings. Leaving you alone like that? What if somebody would steal you away? His little doll?"
You just couldn't handle it anymore. Not the way he was looking at you, how he talked about Bataar, and especially how he leaned even closer to you. He was threatening, yeah, and you were more than terrified of him and what he could do to you, sure. But you just couldn't take it anymore.
"I am nobody's possession and if you don't back away right now..."
"Nobody's possession?" he asked, not even acknowledging the fact you were trying to threaten him with something. "You telling me that it's been a week and he still hasn't claimed you?" he laughed viciously.
"Claim me?"
He really thought all along that you and Bataar were sleeping together...? Why would he...?
"You really are dumb, aren't you?", he leaned even closer, now his fangs were just inched away from your face as he grinned. "But that's okay. So you are nobody's possession, huh? It won't be long before someone would sweep you away and..."
"Jargal!"
A crispy voice made the both of you flinch, and you turned your head to the owner of it. An older, female catfolk appeared from the other side of the hut.
"Don't bother the human, at least not next to my house, you moron."
The panther grunted with annoyance but then stepped back with a cocky smile.
"Looks like you got lucky today. We'll see how long he can keep you by his side."
"Come on, don't you have anything better to do than being a menace?" the hag growled again, waving with the wooden spoon in her hands as she came closer. "If you keep that up I will ask Bataar to send you away for herbs you will never find."
Jargal just growled and with a final, intimidating look at you, he walked away with a puff. You turned to the old female, trying to say thank you, but as soon as you smiled at her, she bashed at you too. "And why are you still trembling like a reed in the wind? Do you want him to come back? Now come inside, you should eat some soup before you faint on me or something."
She didn't even wait for your answer, just turned her back on you and slowly shuffled back to the hut. She really seemed old now that the threat disappeared, you almost heard her bones rattling as she took off.
Her name was Altan. She talked a lot, mostly to herself. How the young ones annoyed everyone around the village, especially Jargal, how Bataar should finally get rid of him, and how Yagan would have never let anyone be so disrespectful to Bataar. She rambled about how the tribe has changed since she was a child and you found yourself smiling at the whole scene. The old ones are the same in every species, as it seems, right?
Someone knocked on the door, and as you both turned in its direction, you saw a familiar face.
"Ah, there you are", said Bataar with a smile as he came in. "You're not bothering Altan, are you?"
You tried to answer, but Altan cut you off.
"Nah, other than nearly pissing herself in front of my hut, nah", she waved it off as she was preparing some kind of ointment in a dish. Bataar looked at you with confusion.
"What?"
"You should be more careful, Bataar", said Altan more seriously this time. "Jargal is getting out of hand."
His curious gaze quickly turned into worry as he took a few steps closer to you.
"Did he hurt you?!"
You shook your head. "No, don't worry about me. He disappeared when Altan scolded him."
Bataar growled quietly, his white brow spots furrowed as he looked out the window of the hut.
"I will have a word with him."
"Oh yes, because words will help you keep Jargal away from your new little pet, of course."
You both stared at Altan for long seconds.
And after that, there wasn't really a conversation. Bataar walked you back to the hut, quietly, and you weren't sure what kind of silence it was.
It wasn't awkward.
Maybe a little bit, but you didn't feel embarrassed or ashamed. You slowly glanced up at him, wondering what could be on his mind. You wanted to ask, but... You still felt like a stranger next to him sometimes. You didn't blame yourself for that, since it was only a week ago when he saved you.
But still.
When you reached the hut, you opened the door but then stopped. Bataar looked at you, and as you glanced up at him, you felt a tug on your heart.
"I..." You opened your mouth to say something, but you closed it quickly. You weren't sure what to say, but you desperately wanted to tell him something.
"I think you should rest now." Bataar cut you off from that. You weren't sure, but... He looked just as confused as you.
"You might be right." You nodded, looking away sheepishly.
"We'll go out hunting, so don't wait for me tonight."
You looked up, a bit surprised. You didn't know you would be alone tonight. Maybe your face said too much though, because Bataar smiled, and patted your head lightly.
"Don't worry. We'll see each other tomorrow."
#monster x reader#monster romance#monster writing#catfolk#monster x human#monster#monster boyfriend#feline#anthro x human
52 notes
·
View notes
Note
Kinky drider prompt. Either suspension bondage. Or Shibari. Or both *hands in the air*
Aaaand here it is! (Finally!! /avoids thrown paper balls)
This is a sequel to this piece although you don't need to have read the first to understand this one.
Tags: NSFW, shibari (it's v soft I promise), vaginal fingering and vaginal sex, and a bit of subspace experience
I hope the wait was worth it, happy reading!
“Darling,” Callum calls from your shared room, his voice timid. It’s very unlike the voice he uses to command his court, or speak to his generals. It's a voice he uses only around you, when he knows it's safe.
You poke your head into the room and see him sitting in front of the fire. It's been getting colder the past few weeks, not quite cold enough to snow, but the staff have been bringing down the heavier garments in preparation. It's been the perfect excuse to stay in bed for a few more kisses, a quiet moment alone before his attentions are drawn elsewhere.
Callum gestures you over with two hands, and you step into the room and sit across from him on the ornate rug. His hands are all folded in front of him, and he's staring into the fire.
"Is everything alright?" you ask, concerned. He seems anxious, fidgeting with his hands.
He takes a deep inhale and takes your hands in his, pressing them between his four palms. "It's concerning the bedroom. I'd like to try…something new."
Oh, that's all? You'd thought something was wrong. You quirk an amused eyebrow. "You're bored already?"
He shakes his head like a dog. "N-no! You're wonderful! This has been the most--"
You laugh, cutting him off. "My love, I'm joking. Tell me what you want."
His face glows in embarrassment, a dull blue shining through the low light of the room. "I want to…tie you up."
It takes you a moment to parse his meaning, then you drop your fist into your palm. "Oh!"
You've heard of this before! The Oni across the ocean make gorgeous configurations! You'd stolen a book of them from the library and flipped through it under torchlight. Layers upon layers of rope, criss-crossed and interwoven, hours and hours of work to make living art. You'd asked for the book out of idle curiosity, but the more you flipped the more involved you'd become. It's been a few weeks since you'd found the book in the library, but it hasn't left your mind since.
"That sounds great!" you shout, grabbing Callum by the shoulders. A touch over-enthusiastic, but it would be a lie to say you hadn't thought about the same.
His responding smile is shy, but bright. "It's done with my silk so it's very soft, but if you don't want to I--"
You kiss him on either cheek, energy leaking out of you like steam. "Yes! I said yes! What did you have in mind?"
Leading you by the hands out of the bedroom, he brings you down the hall and to a room that neither of you frequent, and you had honestly forgotten the purpose of until Callum begins to explain.
"I mortified myself by asking for assistance setting this up. I'm surprised none of the staff let it slip to you. It's got everything we could need in here, plus more."
You smirk at your husband. "What would you have done if I refused?"
He laughs. "Never opened this door again," and then looks down at your hands, his thumbs rubbing your palms. "But I had faith in you."
The door swings open silently and he ushers you inside, two hands firm on your back as you take in the room. Everything, from the bed, to the wallpaper, to the decor are done in a deep red and gold. There's accents of silver along the wall, but your eyes are drawn to the giant four-poster bed against the far wall. It's as large as the one in your bedroom, but that one is almost delicate compared to the solid oak frame in front of you.
"Is this okay?" he asks.
"It's wonderful," you breathe out, awed.
The pressure on your back steers you to the bed. "Undress, please, and kneel on the bed."
Your mouth goes dry at his stern, direct tone. He reserves this voice for you, and you only. "You haven't told me what you had in mind."
"First I'd like you to kneel on the bed. Then I will show you."
The air of the room is cool without a fireplace, but you hope you'll be warmed soon as you climb onto the bed. It's higher than a human bed to accommodate the height of a drider, bigger as well, but you've come to enjoy the size. The duvet is cotton, a deep red shot through with gold like the rest of the room, soft from laundering.
You sit on the center of the bed, your legs tucked beneath you, and you watch as Callum makes a slow arc from one side to the other, like a predator, or a butcher appraising meat. He reaches underneath the bed and sets next to you a box, one you could easily fit an armful of books in.
"Do you know what to say to make me stop?"
You have no fucking clue. This is new territory, it's never gotten so intense that you felt the need. Callum has always made it apparent that you could pull away whenever you wish, so you've never had a specific word for it. "Uh, s-stop?"
His mandibles lift, an expression of approval. "You are a queen, say it like you mean it."
You sit up straight and pretend you're back in the court, projecting your voice. "Stop."
It feels a bit silly saying it to empty air, but Callum leans forward, pecks your lips and says, "Good girl." And you want to do it again.
He picks up a book--you realize it's the same book you'd checked out from the library, opened to one of the pages you'd absentmindedly dogeared. The figure has their hands together, held behind their head. The ropes are knotted like diamonds on the front and back, and the figure has their chest pushed out.
"If your hands go numb or start to hurt at all, you're going to tell me, understood?"
You nod absently, still staring at the book. "Okay."
"Hey," he steers your face away, firmly squeezing your cheeks between calloused fingers. "Did you hear me?"
"I did," your eyes flick down to his lips. "Sir."
"Good girl," he says with a sharp smile, and you shiver pleasantly.
Callum pulls another box out from underneath the bed, this one full of twisted rope lengths, the dark blue of his silk appearing black in the low light. He'd prepared this, spun the rope thinking of tying you up, spent time out of his day to come in here and make plans. The thought makes you rub your thighs together, a motion not unnoticed by Callum. He lays a length across your shoulders, the ends falling over your breasts and gently caressing your nipples. It's a small movement, but you suck in a breath all the same.
One of his hands not working through the rope rests lightly on your thigh. "Get comfortable, spread your knees," and he says it casually, like a suggestion, but you know it's not.
Callum isn't mean or forceful in the bedroom, but his commands come through firm, with clear intent behind them. If you didn't listen, there were consequences.
The first time you'd tested his patience, had been disobedient, he'd kept you on the edge of orgasm for three hours straight, while he got to come over you all night. Only once you'd been reduced to a sobbing, incoherent mess had he let you come on his fingers alone, and you were so wound up that the scream it tore from you nearly made you hoarse. The bath he'd drawn for you afterwards and the fingers he'd combed through your hair had been heavenly, he always took care of you, but you were not up to par to do that again. You'd be good for him.
Besides, you enjoy the approval. His smiles could be soft or sharp, and you like the idea of pleasing him as much as you can.
Callum sits on the bed behind you, his lower legs stretching out next to yours, warmth practically radiating from his body. The chill starts to disappear as his hands smooth over your skin, over your hips, down the tops of your thighs and back up to cup your breasts. His hands are warm, it feels good exploring your body, the drag of his blunt nails over your skin makes your clit tingle.
Bringing the rope up, Callum starts on your wrists, a knot where your hands meet that wraps around a few times. With another hand, he wiggles a digit between your skin and the ropes before knotting it, and you realize he's testing the tightness.
He pulls your hands up, over your head, and says softly, "When I'm done with this, I will see how you feel, and then I'd like to tie your legs." He pulls a little harder, bringing your shoulders up to your ears, anchoring the ties on your hands to the rope around your chest. Brushing your hair aside with his long fingers makes another shiver work up your spine as he starts to wrap the pattern over your chest.
He leans around you, face nuzzling the outside of your arm, a hand pushing his face into you, and he says softly, "And then I want to fuck you, my good girl."
You shudder, his voice dripping heat down to your pussy, and you pull at the restraints wanting to relieve the tension. It pulls at Callum's hands, and he pauses.
"Are you alright?"
You nod. "I'm fine."
Concern laces his words, "We can stop if--"
"N-no!" You flush, trying to turn to him and failing.
Callum peeks around your arm, noticing the heat in your face, and the hand on your thigh slides up.
"I see," he says.
And as if he's reading your mind, one of Callum's hand traces over your hip, inwards over your thigh, and finally cups your sex with his long fingers. It's not quite dripping yet, but your lips still part easily under his touch as he draws a finger up the center all the way to your clit. You shiver at the touch, a small moan escaping your lips.
"I'm glad you're enjoying this," Callum says, voice low as he rubs his finger slowly, and his other hands continuing to wrap the rope over your chest and across your back.
Even at the slow pace, you're at Callum's complete mercy and the tightness of the ropes. His hand on you doesn't speed up, doesn't apply more pressure, only circles your clit at that same maddening pace, keeping you just on the edge, turning you into a panting mess in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Your pussy feels empty, you cant your hips with each downward movement of his fingers, hoping he gets the hint.
His directions, like the silk in his hands, are smooth but firm. "Spine straight," he says, tracing a finger from the base of your spine to your neck.
"Deep breath," as he tightens the rope under your breasts.
He pulls the rope around your chest and threads it through your hands again. Your breathing picks up as you test the strength, and it locks your arms into place.
The hand over your clit reaches lower and Callum gently presses two fingers into you. It's not quite the size you want, but the relief that comes with it has you moaning.
"Tell me, love," Callum says behind you as he secures a knot, as if he isn't knuckle-deep inside you. "What led you to this book?"
You've been caught, but the image of Callum finding that book, knowing you'd seen it only makes you wetter. "I, uh…" You shift on the covers. "Just curious."
"Curious," he repeats around a particularly wet sound from your pussy. "Sneaking around, bookmarking pages." He brushes your G-spot and you shudder. "Did you think about me? Did you touch yourself to it?"
"...No."
"Liar." He yanks on a loose end, hard enough to thrust your chest forward and bring more color to your cheeks.
His hand stops over your pussy as he concentrates on the last few knots, and you don't know how much time has passed, but it's too much. The warmth of his hand is nice, but it's not enough anymore. You're oversensitive, he's been going slow on purpose. You need his cock, you need him to fuck you.
"Alright," he says. "I'm done with your arms."
You squirm on the bed. "Would you, uh, leave my legs for tonight?"
As he rounds the corner of the bed, Callum looks to you, attentive. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, it's just…" You look down, unable to finish the sentence, and Callum flashes you a boyish grin.
"Go on, tell me."
Every time you try to move your arms, it pulls the connections over your chest, tightens the loops over your wrists and shoulders. You're on display like this, completely vulberable. You truly could go limp and everything would stay in place, and it's a relaxing thought. Callum has you, you're stable.
Your voice comes out shaky, "I want…I want you to fuck me."
That never gets easier, no matter how many times you've done it. Usually you'd be embarrassed, and you feel the beginnings of it, but it's not nearly as present as the need to be filled.
And Callum always obliges you.
The rope around you is soft, but it bites into your skin. It reminds you of the way Callum will bite your shoulder or your neck as he's deep inside you. These ropes are going to leave a mark, one that the court might see, that might be bared to the public. Bearing these marks for others to see how Callum owns you is a heady thought, and your exhales are unsteady, but you also feel light, floaty, as they set in.
There's been a few parties where you've had more than a few glasses of wine, and it's a similar feeling, this weightlessness. And your arousal is persistent, you want Callum to touch you again, it felt so good.
You're staring at a spot on the floor when Callum gently grabs your jaw and guides your head upwards. Your head weighs a million pounds, but he's holding you, and that's nice. He's so pretty when he's serious, intensely studying your face. All four of his eyes are narrowed in suspicion, there's a light blue blush over his high cheekbones, and his dark hair has started to mat to his forhead with sweat. Was this an effort for him too?
But he looks almost upset, so you smile at him.
"I'm okay," you say, and you are. You mean it. "This is nice. I'm very relaxed."
Callum's face relaxes, the crease in his brow disappears, and he smiles back at you, that crooked, boyish smirk that melts your heart, and he kisses your lips. You open easily to him, his split tongue sliding over yours, lazily exploring your mouth. The rope stops you from reaching out to him, but his hands wrap over your hips, across your back. They run over the rope, tracing the lines, testing the tightness. He pulls back, pecking your lips one last time.
"And you want me to fuck you?"
You lean forward, chasing another kiss, a smile pulling at your lips. "Yes, please."
He pats the outside of your thigh, that boyish smile coming back. He's strong, picking you up easily so your legs can fall open from underneath you. With his other hands he grabs underneath your thighs, pulling them around his waist. Your ankles cross over his thorax, soft and bare, and you feel against your thigh the prodding of his cock, still buried behind his slit but eager to break free.
You lazily wiggle your hips over Callum's and he moans, the arms keeping you upright squeezing you into his torso.
Callum grabs you by the hips, positioning his cock against your entrance. His hard girth greets you, warm and wet with the lubricant his body produces. As the tip slips inside, you gasp against his shoulder, the intrusion always shocking you with the sudden size. There's only the slightest taper to his cock, with a slant at the tip and a curve upwards. Your first time together had been an experience in readying yourself for it, but after nearly every night together, you've gotten used to it. Loved it.
You're allowed a breath's length of time before he slams you down, up to the two large bumps at the base where he says his seed is stored. The sudden heat and force pushes the breath from your lungs, sends fire up your spine, but he doesn't give you time to adjust before he lifts you up almost all the way out and slams you down again.
His cock is huge, you feel every inch as it fills you up, and he starts a punishing rhythm that keeps him deep. The bumps along the top of his cock caress your insides and you moan against his neck, not caring if anyone outside can hear.
"You look absolutely stunning," he says, breaths punctuated by each thrust and the smack of your skin against his. "I want to tie you up again, keep you there for hours. To watch you beg for me while you can't get away."
You can't respond, too caught up in the feel of his cock ramming into you, wet and obscene, the lubrication of his cock making the glide feel delicious. Like he can't get enough of you.
You pull at the ropes again, forgetting that you're tied up, and another wash of calm floods your senses. That lightheadedness is coming back, that floaty feeling. You're coasting on sensation, surrounded by Callum, his scent, and so many feelings. He's got you, he always has you, and he always will.
Callum grunts as he thrusts into you, the sound right in your ear, and each downstroke feels so good you may come just from this. His cock hits a spot on the next thrust that has you moaning, open mouthed against his skin.
"I want you like this all the time," Callum breathes, his voice wrecked. Sweat is beading on his skin, his hair is curling from the heat. "I want to try everything with you, you're so beautiful."
He mumbles more into the skin of your arm, but you can't make it out. The pace of his thrusts picks up, become erratic.
"Are you close?" he asks. "You're going to milk me dry like this."
You can only moan an affirmative, his voice working to push you over the edge. Your thighs clench, you pull against the ropes and seize up, overcome with pleasure as you come. The world goes black as you squeeze your eyes shut, your heart beating erratically.
Callum thrusts into you once, twice, his hips stuttering as he releases a long moan. The length of his cock shudders and you feel the wet warmth of his seed as it fills you. It pumps again anf Callum shudders, mimicked by you when you feel it start to leak out of you and drip down the curve of your bum.
You feel incredible, like you could run up a mountain, or take a three year nap. You feel Callum's heart against your own, both beating frantically.
Once Callum gathers his wits about him, he's petting your hair, grabbing your hands where he can. "How are you feeling, love?"
You feel stable, back to the ground, and nod. "That was fantastic. But," you say, wiggling your fingers. "I'm starting to go numb."
"Oh shit," Callum says, immediately but gently pulling out of you and setting you on the bed, rushing to a drawer on the bedside table. You laugh when he very seriously brandishes a pair of scissors and starts towards you.
"No!" You say, scooting away. "I like this rope, don't cut it!"
He pulls you in by the elbow and starts snipping anyway. Pouting, you remain still in the face of those sharp scissors.
"Believe me, it is nothing to make more," he reassures you, running his thumb over your pushed out bottom lip.
The first bit he cuts is the ties keeping your arms back, but he grabs your wrists before you can wrench them forward.
"Easy," he says, his voice stern. "Easy."
Slowly, he guides your hands down in front of you, and you're glad for it. You'd been ignoring a lot of pain in your shoulders, not through any error on Callum's part, but the intensity of the position itself. It's a good sore though, one you'd like to experience again.
"Everything alright?" he asks. You nod.
Callum quickly cuts the rest away, the rope falling to the blanket beneath you, and you feel his fingers skating lightly over your skin.
He's running over the marks, the indented red lines, the texture of the rope superimposed into you. Looking at your arm and chest, you see them too. They're amazing, little bits of evidence to show what you've done.
"Stunning," Callum says, fingers skating over your arms, so light you can barely feel it, like he doesn't want to hurt you.
You're running your hand over the marks when a chill runs up your spine, the cold of the room setting in and making goosebumps break out over your skin. Callum presses a kiss to your freezing shoulder, and you feel the smile on his lips.
"Let's get you warmed up."
As he silently carries you to the washroom, his warmth presses into your side and where his arms wrap around your body. The massive bath he lowers you into is searing, perfect to gather the last fragmented pieces of your mind, to focus on the hands he runs through your hair and his firm body cradling you.
Callum continues massaging your scalp, his other arms still running over the indented marks that are filling out, but remaining red on your skin. You heave a heavy sigh, content, ready to fall asleep in his arms, and you're definitely doing this again tomorrow.
#my writing#monster smut#nsfw.#monster writing#drider#monster boyfriend#technically husband#thanks for your patience!#writing smut is always difficult for me and takes 5x as long#and i never know if it's good or not#also if there's a weird font change to something else i apologize#also this is my official foray back into posting regularly#i lliiiivvvveee
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
Masterlist in progress...
Longer stories:
🪄A Mage helps out her Orc friend.
🐍Our Mage is on the search for a very rare species.
More like blurbs:
🌳Did you know lemurs have cool tongues?
🤏Fantasy Short Kings
❔Monster x Human misunderstandings
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere? Monster x G/N Reader
A/N; Hello! This is my first published writing, I hope it is okay. If you would perhaps like a part two, more information about the character, or even just to chat in private, ask/dm me! This is just the tip of the iceberg... Btw, it isn't really romantic at all, it may turn into that but it is mainly platonic as of right now.
TW/CW; Scary (?) monster, not really any yandere yet, mentions of missing people, implied kidnapping, I did read over this over and over but there may be a spelling mistake...? I believe that is all. Perhaps teratophilia yet it is not really romantic as of this time.
Word Count; 815... I apologize, it is a bit short.
It was not the smartest idea for you to be walking alone at night.
Despite the fact that it was common sense, you and a few others did not get that. With the rise of missing person reports flooding your area, you thought it would have been an amazing idea to try such a thing. You had your reasons, walking and exercise in general has been shown to help calm people down, which was what you needed. You had a nightmare, yet you did not want to linger on it for too long, for it was well… Bad enough to make you want to go on a walk, in the dark, despite the nature of it. The concept of it was simple, you were alone in a simple, generic scary woods setting, being chased by… Something. You actually had no idea as to what it was, yet your instincts kicked in and caused you to run, unable to look behind you and check. To shake off the thoughts, you looked at the houses within your neighborhood, all of them looking the same. Two floors, gray inside, and perhaps a grayer inside. A little white porch with white fencing in the back, giving off the illusion of having privacy despite every house being built on top of each other… You did not mean it as an insult, your house looked exactly the same, and was. It was a rather nice place however, the best you could get for the price you could pay.
Lost within your thoughts, you didn't notice how the sidewalk you were walking along became uneven until you ended up tripping over it, panic filling your head as you grabbed the nearest item, which was a street lamp. You planned to use it to stop your fall, to steady yourself, yet it became unsteady as soon as you put any pressure on it. A gasp escaped your lips as it started to fall to the ground with you, yet something seemed to catch you. Before you could turn your head to see what, or who, saved you, you were distracted by the sound of the glass breaking, the light slowly flickering out. You stared with wide eyes, feeling whatever had a hold of you let go, you stepped away to mentally prepare yourself to turn around. Despite the fact that you knew whoever, or again, whatever, did not want to hurt you, you couldn't help but feel fear… The recent missing person reports flashed in your mind, as well as the possibility they were nice enough to help you was only to gain your trust… Yet you turned, your eyes not getting a break from its widened state.
You would not even call the thing in front of you a human per se.
With long, lanky legs and arms that got wider the closer it got to the tips, to the oddly short torso the thing had, to its actual… Regular sized humans like the neck, as well as the head, yet its face was not human… Or lack thereof. There were indents along its facial structure as to where eyes and a mouth would be, yet it did not have any of those features. It had to be at least ten feet tall, at least, yet it was hard to tell because of their hunched over posture. It had no clothes on, yet you did know if it really needed any clothes… Or if any really would fit its body at all. It did not say a word as it moved rather… Fluidly, body twisting and turning in order to look you over. You probably should have screamed, yet you were frozen in fear. You did not even realize that your jaw had nearly dropped to the floor, but you did when it gently placed what could be its pointer finger under your chin, slowly pushing it up to close your mouth.
“Hi! You do not scream from joy like the others, yet I can tell that you can barely contain yourself!”
You were surprised by its chipper tone, their voice sounding mature, yet their childish tone making you do a double take. It pulled its finger away from you, clapping in delight, despite how… It’s words really were when you thought about them for even a moment. You went to open your mouth, your lips shaking like the rest of your body, yet its pointer finger came back down to you and pressed against your lips, head cocking around here and there as it leaned down to be face to face with you. A gentle laugh left their lips, or, what you believed would leave their lips if they had any, the glee from before still evident within them as they spoke once more, it being the last thing you'd hear for a while.
“Oh, no no no, I like the silence.”
#yandere#romantic yandere#platonic yandere#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere monster#yandere teratophilia#yandere drabble#short story#idk any other tags#moo-moo-moon-writing#monster writing#monster oc#writing#horror#horror short story#drabble#oc x reader#oc x y/n#oc x you#yancore#idk#again idk#for the last time idk
132 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Mirror Image: Chapter One
What will you do with your massive crush on maybe the kindest Orc you’ve ever met and your scheming best friend...
TW/CW: Drinking and being drunk.
Pairing: M Orc/F reader
a/n: SFW but will become NSFW as the chapters go on, those chapters will be well marked though. However, under 18s DNI! This blog and these fics ain’t for you.
Cold wind staining your cheeks pink, you hummed hello to your co-workers as you backed through the door to the aptly named salon, The Mirror Image, while holding onto the precariously stacked take out coffees for dear life. Letting out a deep sigh of relief that not a drop had been spilled on the floor that you had so diligently cleaned earlier, seeing as you were the salon apprentice.
Making the rounds between different beauticians stations, you dropped off the hot, caffeinated drinks to your colleagues that weren't with clients currently and left the rest as well as a collection of warm pastries in the shared staff room.
Now, collecting coffee and sweeping hair wasn't where you thought you’d be at this point in your career however that's not all you was doing. The Mirror Image was a hair salon that prided itself on being able to perform all hair services for anyone in the city.
Whether they be Human, Orc, Naga, Centaur, the list really does go on. You were more than qualified to work with Human hair, and often took those clients so you’re still able to make a great deal more money than a normal apprentice. That and your co-workers and teachers at The Mirror Image were absolutely lovely and eager to take you under their wings, sometimes quite literally. So you took the occasional coffee fetching and grunt work easily as you knew it wouldn't be forever and on packed mornings with nothing to show you it really did help the salon out and boost morale.
Out in the staff room, you were singing along quietly to whatever was playing on the radio as you used your allotted time to sort through pictures for your portfolio. Evidence that you had mastered certain skills and had good feedback from both assessors and clients alike. Taking a moment to sip your now cooled coffee, you selected a few pictures of the Nagas you'd been working with recently. Naga hairstyling was the first unit you’d started, not actually having been at The Mirror Image all too long.
Ren, a long-time friend, being the star of a lot of these photos in the early days before you were allowed to practice on real clients-, under supervision of course! While Nagas had no cultural or ritual value to their hair, they did have very sensitive scalps and a Naga in pain is likely to strike.
Tucking a curly lock of hair behind your ear, you set to work on your coursework. The day went quickly after that, some cleaning done, some human clients dealt with and two Naga clients interested in the apprentice discount! Excellent! Two more quality photos for your portfolio and glowing reviews! The manager of the salon, an intimidating looking harpy but absolute sweetie once you talk to her, had said that you'll soon be moving onto the Orc module of training.
All you'd been asked to do was to research Orcish hairstyles and braids, maybe even ask an Orc friend if you could practice traditional braids. Within reason of course... Orcish braids were the opposite of Naga hairstyles, you didn't need to worry so much about touch but you did need to worry about the cultural meaning.
Within Orc communities braids meant everything.
Whether it meant family, if they'd come of age, their military position if they had one and... Most importantly, their relationship status.
Orcish braiding was incredibly complex for those very reasons, even the placement of the silver beads or gold cuffs could completely change the meanings.
Ah well, you were meeting up with Ren and your mutual friend, Khureg, tonight for a few drinks seeing as it was a Saturday.
And Khureg was an Orc.
Maybe you could ask him? He's always been so good when you just wanted to try practicing a new style. Khureg was always the first to offer, plus he had lovely, long hair and had absolutely no qualms with sitting still and just letting you do what you wanted so long as you didn't cut it at all.
You were sure that so long as you respected that you couldn't practice just anything without explicit permission, he'd be more than happy to help.
Sigh.
Khureg was so nice, not to mention handsome and amazing with animals too! What a dreamboat right? Khureg worked for a veterinary clinic that specialised in caring for and rehabilitating animals that found themselves caught in sticky situations. Your favourite photo of him being the one where he had several kittens of all different colours asleep in his lap after having found them just left by the side of the road. Gods, despite how big he was and how intimidating he could look, he was just so gentle.
Sometimes on sleepless nights, your hand inching down yourself, you wondered if he'd be just as gentle with you, or maybe rougher if you could make him lose control...
No. Now was not the time for those thoughts.
He's your friend! And only your friend, he wasn't interested in you like that. Khureg is so sweet, you weren't about to ruin the friendship you'd formed, he was far too kind to make him feel uncomfortable because you came onto him. Plus, as mentioned earlier, he was so sexy! And you, well you were cute you guessed? Definitely not up to his standards at least, or so you thought.
Wrapping your moss green scarf tighter around you, you stepped out of the salon and waved goodbye to the stylists still working before pulling your phone out of your pocket. Pulling up Rens number, you hit dial, the phone only ringing twice before they picked up.
"Hey darling, you still coming for drinks tonight?" Ren asked straight away, only one thing on their mind.
You giggled at their incessant need to socialise. "Yes of course I am, I'm on my way now from the salon, um-, is Khureg...," you trailed off, praying that you kept that hopeful note from your voice. The gods are not on your side today.
"Yes, Khureg will be there tonight, why haven't you asked him out already!? I've told you he likes you!" Ren scolded you, it wasn’t the first time you and them had had this conversation.
Rolling your eyes so hard that you were pretty sure that they could physically hear the motion, you snarked back, “I remember what you said, Ren, just... Y’know I really don’t think it’s true, like he said that he liked me but he was tipsy at the time?”
“Yeah, we’d had a couple of drinks at that point but I don’t think-,” you cut Ren off midsentence.
“People say crazy things when they’re drunk, Ren! You know that better than anyone! Last time me and you went out to that underground club, you were so wasted that you wrapped yourself ‘round a bouncer and told him that you wanted to be a giant slinky and then you asked him to push you down the stairs!” You chortled at Ren’s scoff of indignation, as you stepped out to cross the road now that traffic had died down.
“Look, that was a messy, messy, night but I still stand by what I said... That minotaur was hot,” you snorted at your friends' antics, “just think about it! Khureg is always to first to offer to help you with literally anything! Last week you mentioned that you were annoyed with how your kitchen table wobbles and the man turns up an hour later with a tool kit! What can I say at this point to convince you that he really does like you!? At this point I think I need to start taking desperate measures...”
Well, that was worrying, Ren wasn’t the kind of person to say things like that lightly. Afterall their name on your phone is ‘Chaos Co-ordinator’. “Hey, don’t go and do anything crazy please seeing as work just told me I’m moving onto the Orc unit of work. I really need Khureg to help me out here as I’m gonna need it, all the braids look so complex!”
Unbeknownst to you, Ren was already at the bar waiting for their friends to arrive, nursing a particularly large cocktail and scheming with the particularly pretty Orcish bartender that he’d met that night...
“Really?” Asked Ren, “, -not that I don’t think you’re ready!” They added quickly after you let out a squeak in protest. “You’re so amazing at doing Naga hair, just that there’s still one thing you haven’t done yet, it’s a medium difficulty braid, and I would have thought that it would be the perfect transitionary step between the two different cultural styles.”
Wracking your brain, you just couldn’t think what they were talking about. Surely one of your trainers or your course lead would have mentioned this but... None of them were Naga’s and you weren't about to argue with someone who actually lived the culture.
“Oh right, I better get on that then, do you think that you’d be free-,” Ren cut you off quickly and apologetically. “No, sorry darling, I’m going to be shedding in the next couple of weeks and my skin is already feeling so sensitive. Maybe you could ask Khureg? Where it’s not an Orcish braid, you won’t need to worry about the relevance or anything and I know that he’s got some time off work over the next week.”
The bar was coming into view as you walked down the street, The Frisky Fae written in cursive neon overhead. It wasn’t a dive bar per se but it certainly wasn’t somewhere you brought your family.
“Look, I’m just arriving, I’ll talk to you about it properly in just a second.” You exchanged pointless goodbyes seeing as you would be seeing them in less than a minute and pocketed your phone.
It would be interesting to braid Khureg’ hair, you’d never done it before and this did seem like the perfect way to get started. That and the feel of twisting and weaving his silken hair between your fingers made your stomach clench.
Ducking beneath the doorway you spotted your friend at the bar trying to charm the bartender who was at least double their height. As Orcs went, she was tall. That explained Ren’s interest, they just loved people bigger than them.
The deep red and amber colours of their scales lining their scales and extenuating those sharp cheekbones beautifully.
Gods, was Ren pretty.
“Hey Ren, should we grab our usual booth?” You asked as you leaned against the bar next to them now that the bartender had moved seeing as your friend had successfully given her their phone number and had moved on to make other customers drinks.
Agreeing with you, you and Ren both moved over to the comfortably spacious booth and made yourselves at home on the black leather cushioned seats.
“So,” you started, “this braid then? Do you have any pictures?”
Ren shook their head, “No, sorry sweet, but I’ll make sure to send you one before you practice with your beau.” The Naga supplied helpfully.
If you had a drink, you would’ve choked on it, either way the comment did turn you bright, flaming red.
“He’s not my beau!” You hissed, before rubbing your face and sighing glumly. “He’s not my anything...”
“Who’s not your anything?” A deep voice rumbled gently from next to you, a large, familiar shadow falling across the table.
Oh perfect.
Khureg heard that.
Chapter 2
#monsterkisserlove#my writing#the mirror image#monster boyfriend#monster fucker#monster writing#sfw#tw alchohol mention#orcs#orc boyfriend#orc x reader#monster x reader#reader fic
427 notes
·
View notes
Text
[dark! vampire x reader]
A/N: It's been some time since I last wrote a monster short fic, but let's write an imagine! For this one, I may write something a bit longer. but enjoy otherwise!
Warnings of: brief mentions of the death of a sibling, manipulation, psychological manipulation, gaslighting, blood drinking, Stockholm syndrome
The death of your brother comes as a surprise to those in the family and close relatives. He was relatively healthy for his age, active and not a drinker or smoker, so when he had fallen ill rather quickly with what the physician said was consumption, your heart was shattered, never to be the same it was before.
His funeral came and went, relatives you were familiar with and some you hadn't seen in years came and went, though one had caught your eye who you had not recognised as either friend or kin.
He almost blended himself at the back of people when the coffin was being lowered, and you had overserved him silently, thankful the dark veil that covered your face didn't show you were watching him.
His garbs were black as the rest of those around you, though some of the trim on his jacket had a crimson embellish, a pair of black glasses perched so you could not tell who he was looking at.
With long sandy blond locks tied back, pale skin and a lean tall build, he seemed ethereal, an angel who was there to take your brother's hand up to Heaven.
By the end, it had been him who came over to you, telling you how deeply sorry he was for the death of your brother, and how he was a good friend. He gave you his name, Sir Claude Spencer, a mentor and teacher to your brother during his studies.
It came to you as a surprise, seeing how young the man looked in front of you, and you could not guess him to be someone with years or even decades of academic knowledge stored in his mind.
Nothing otherwise told you this man was odd for being there, for if he was your brother's friend, he could be trusted. You felt rather sorry for how you poured your emotions and sorrows onto him, a man you had just met that otherwise consoled you for the rest of the day.
Claude was everything a gentleman should've been: thoughtful with his words, calm and collected. His voice was a soft timbre as he spoke to you as if treating a dying or sick animal. He was there for you when no one else was, and you could not believe how easy it was that you could put your trust in him so quickly.
Maybe it was the grief, and it had pushed you over the edge, but Claude had promised that if you needed refuge or a place to stay to clear your mind, his was always open. He lived in the Spencer estate, given to him after the death of his late father – he told you – so he did not have any next of kin he could pass it down to.
Though you were grateful for the offer, you could not imagine living with a confirmed bachelor, yourself young and ready to be wedded yet no man had thought you the one to catch their eye.
It didn't come as a surprise when you took him on his offer, writing to him a week later that you would come, and he was even more excited to have you there.
"I shall await day and night for when you come. Yours faithfully, Claude."
The Spencer manor was a drab sight, however, with few staff who worked only during the days and none staying at night. You greeted them all warmly when you climbed out of the stagecoach, with none but Spencer's butler, Arthur there to greet you coolly.
"The Master is resting at the moment, but he shall see you at dinner tonight."
It was odd, but he seemed to be a busy man, so you didn't think much of it. Instead, you were treated like glass, given a tour around the entirety of the manor, before being shown where you were staying.
It was shocking when you came to be told that the Master bedroom was only down the hall from you... Claude's room.
When dinner came, you dressed as best as you could despite still wearing black. When greeted with the sight of Claude, it seemed as if all your troubles and worries had melted away. He too, looked relieved and delighted to have you here.
Dinner came and went and your exhaustion had come with a heavy toll, but Claude was not disappointed that you needed to go to bed. For a man as young as he looked, he did not seem to tire as easily as you did, but it did concern you that he rested during the day.
Claude kissed your hand gently with a goodnight, leaving you giddy and looking forward to getting to know him more throughout your stay.
It didn't take long before you started seeing the signs that something was off not just about the manor, but of the staff and Claude. Arthur said that he was sensitive to the light, that he had sleep terrors and was always tired during the day, or that he was reading all night and could never get any sleep. His changed between staff that you did get a chance to ask, some with worrying, wary looks as they rushed off before you could ask anything else.
You also realised, Claude rarely ate. When you too did eat, his plate was always untouched, and it made you cautious that had he poisoned you? No, he wouldn't do such a thing. The only thing that he had was a cup that you assumed was wine, constantly refilled as if he needed it like a lifeline.
You heard the noises at night, some down the hallway just outside your room, lurking in the darkness like a beast that prowled, other times, you heard scratching at your window, keeping you up nearly all night. When you told him or Arthur, they told you it was the old pipes or a dog was loose in the yard, or the wind was bad that night, but... why was it the case for every night?
When your worries began to build, and you debated whether you should stay any longer, it was Claude who dispelled them quickly, giving reminders that you were still in mourning, that you were in no right state to travel or go back to your family. He told you to take each day slowly, and that he appreciated it if you took the chance to get used to the estate.
But something told you he was right, that you needed a break from the world and he would be there to help you through it.
You complied nonetheless, though, you believed you were doing it more for himself than you. Claude displayed affection that you thought only a husband would show to his wife: longing stares and touches that lingered for longer than expected.
He had any reason to touch you, brush something out your face that wasn't there, hold your hand, and guide you through the gardens once the sun had set.
His touches soon grew bolder, experimenting with your reactions, especially when one night, instead of kissing your knuckles, he kissed your cheek instead.
It left you in a daze, confused about your relationship: was he a friend or did you see him more than that? It couldn't have been like that, he was being kind, wasn't he?
It came to one night when the howling, the screaming, and the scratching haunted your waking dreams that you had to step out, regretting it immediately.
The sight of Claude seemed normal at first, apart from the gurgled noises that came from him and the figure he was clutching. At first, it seemed he was in the tight embrace of a lover, your heart tightening almost jealously before you noticed that his mouth was attached to the woman's neck, ravaging at her flesh like a starved beast.
You didn't know if you dared make a noise at the scene in front of you, watching in horror and dread at the way Claude did not resemble the man you called dearest friend. He resembled a creature of the night, a living nightmare in front of you.
You slammed the door shut to your bedroom before you could watch any further or be caught, and you knew the noise echoed down the hallway to alert Claude he had been caught, yet, there was no movement outside your door to tell you he was standing there.
You didn't open the door until morning, having stayed up all night, packing your bags and telling yourself you would leave the moment the first sign of sunlight peeked through your curtains.
It surprised you awfully when you opened the door, being greeted by the sight of Claude at your door.
It seemed that everything seemed normal, apart from his dishevelled hair, his eyes tired and his skin pallid. He didn't seem like the calm man he was when you first met him, instead, his mask had lifted, and he seemed almost fearful, frantic, desperate.
He asked if he could come in, spotting your bags beside you, blocking your path to leave past him. Your heart was racing, terrified of what he could do if you went against him, fought your way through him. Would he do what he did to that woman?
That was when he denied it all: that you were hallucinating, that you were still grieving and you needed—no, he needed you to stay with him. It was for your safety, that you had to stay with him or else he would truly lose it all.
You were convinced you saw him bleeding a woman dry from her neck, but Claude was adamant you were wrong, saying it was lack of sleep. That the noises had made you paranoid.
Had you truly imagined it all?
Claude smoothed your worries, whispering sweet nothings that he couldn't live without you, that he promised you the world, his love, your hand in marriage, anything to keep you with him.
It was so much, and his sweet words calmed your worries enough that when he pressed his lips to you, your mind was clouded with the love he showed you.
Maybe he was right, maybe he did need you: you both were grieving for your brother and friend. It only made sense that two souls were bound to be together, to help one another with their torment.
Perhaps, staying for a little longer to cradle his love didn't seem so bad after all.
#exophilia#monster exophilia#monster writing#monster lover#my writing#vampire boyfriend#vampire imagine#dark! vampire#yandere vampire#yandere monster#vampire x reader
115 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
meowmeowrelle
Ophelia
incarnateangelique
Angel
atelier-melvalda
💫sapphic elf princess💫
surefiretrio-blog
Surefire Trio
i-creatied-au
Без названия