#tag: sfw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mxnsterbabe · 2 months

Text

Male Drider/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,430 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You're invited to a masquerade ball, hosted by the mysterious Lord Iskinder. A mysterious drider catches your eye, and it turns out that these two may have more in common than you think.

You stood at the edge of the ballroom hosted by the mysterious Lord Iskinder, the grandeur of the space unfolding before you like a scene from a storybook. Opulent chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their light cascading over the guests and illuminating the room with a warm, golden glow. The walls, adorned with golden tapestries and gilded mirrors, echoed the laughter and music that filled the air.

Around you, the guests danced, the epitome of elegance and grace, their masks glinting in the light from the tall windows. Feathers, jewels, and intricate patterns disguised familiar faces, adding an air of mystery and intrigue to the evening.

Your own mask, a delicate creation of lace and pearls, felt like a second skin, its design both concealing and revealing. It was a perfect blend of mystery and allure, designed to intrigue yet allow you to blend seamlessly into the crowd.

Iskinder lingered in your mind as you navigated through the throngs of dancing couples and clusters of chatting nobles. The ball was a rare occasion where the norms of society could be bent, where one could indulge in the freedom of anonymity.

Amidst the swirl of gowns and the soft rustle of silk, your attention was caught by a figure unlike any other. The mystery man was a drider of remarkable presence, standing on the fringes of the dance floor. His upper body was that of a man, his skin a rich, dusky hue that complemented his flowing black hair; but from the waist down, he was a creature of legend, his eight, elegant legs belonging to that of a pinktoe tarantula.

His mask, a masterful creation of silver and obsidian, framed piercing eyes that seemed to see through the frivolous facade of the ball.

The sight of him, so regal and otherworldly, sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. The ballroom, with its gilded opulence and the sea of masked faces, suddenly seemed to fade into the background. The air around you thickened with anticipation, the moment poised on the edge of something transformative.

The concept of a drider, those beings of legend and whispers, had always seemed like a fanciful tale to you, stories meant to entertain and intrigue. Yet, there he stood, living proof of their existence.

His presence in the heart of high society was as breathtaking as it was unprecedented, drawing curious glances and hushed tones from the surrounding guests. Despite their stares, none dared voice their wonder or disdain aloud; the drider's demeanor, poised and unyielding, commanded respect and held a challenge in its stead, as if daring anyone to question his right to be among them.

As your gaze met his from across the room, the world seemed to tilt slightly on its axis. His eyes, bright as molten gold, burned with an intensity that pierced through the sea of masks and whispered conversations. In that brief exchange, something sparked to life, fleeting yet undeniable.

A flush of warmth crept up your cheeks, and you found yourself looking away, overwhelmed by the sudden depth of emotion that single glance had evoked. Your heart fluttered like a caged bird. It was an unfamiliar sensation, this desire to know more.

When you dared to glance back, hoping for another glimpse of the drider who had so captivated your thoughts, you found only the swirling mass of guests. He had vanished, blending into the crowd with a grace and speed you hadn’t expected.

Seeking respite from the press of the crowd, you drifted towards the refreshments table, the drider man still rattling about in your mind. The clink of glass and the murmur of conversation was a welcome distraction.

As you reached for a glass, the animated voices of two women nearby caught your attention, their topic of discussion sending a shiver of curiosity down your spine.

"... and they say Lord Iskinder, the host of tonight's ball, hasn't been seen by anyone this evening. It's all so mysterious," one woman whispered, her voice pitched with curiosity. "In fact, few have ever seen him at all. Those who have are sworn to such secrecy that no one knows what he truly looks like."

The other woman leaned in closer, her interest piqued. "A reclusive lord hosting a grand masquerade? It's the perfect setting for him to wander amongst us unnoticed. The anonymity of the masks, the mingling of guests... it's all by design, surely."

Your curiosity, already kindled by the encounter with the strange drider, flared into a blaze. With a polite interjection, you joined their conversation. "Excuse me, did I hear you correctly? Lord Iskinder has orchestrated this evening's affair yet remains unseen? How peculiar for a host."

The first woman nodded, her eyes alight with the thrill of gossip. "Indeed, it's the talk of the evening. A lord who is more shadow than substance, his presence felt but not seen. This masquerade could very well be his way of hiding in plain sight, observing his guests from behind the veil of anonymity."

The second woman added with a conspiratorial smile, "Some even speculate that the masquerade is a test of sorts, a way for Lord Iskinder to seek out those with a keen eye or perhaps a kindred spirit, without the constraints of societal expectations."

The idea that the elusive lord might be among the guests, shrouded by the anonymity of his own masquerade, sent a thrill through you. The possibility that the ball was not just a social event but a personal quest for the host, a search for connection amidst the pageantry, gave the night an air of unpredictability.

It was all so romantic, wasn’t it?

With a glass of champagne in hand, you retreated to a quieter corner of the ballroom, the golden liquid sparkling under the chandelier's light as you gently swirled the glass. The conversation with the two women lingered in your mind. The idea that Lord Iskinder might have been mingling among his guests incognito, perhaps even observing you at this very moment, lent an exhilarating edge to the night.

Your mind wandered back to the drider, whose presence had so captivated you earlier. If the women's musings held any truth, and Lord Iskinder was indeed among his guests incognito, then the appearance of such a rare and remarkable creature at the ball was no mere coincidence. Perhaps the drider was one of the lord's exclusive guests, a confidant or even a friend, invited to the ball for reasons known only to them.

With each sip of champagne, the possibilities seemed to expand, the boundaries of the ordinary stretching to encompass the magical and the unknown.

Your contemplation was abruptly shattered by a voice, soft like silk and honey. The unexpectedness of it sent a flutter through your heart, a sensation akin to the gentle touch of a butterfly's wing against your skin.

Lifting your gaze, you found yourself once again locked in the captivating stare of the drider from before. His molten gold eyes, gleaming with an inner warmth beneath the intricate mask, held yours in a gaze that was somehow both soft and so intense, it made your toes curl. The mask, an exquisite piece of craftsmanship, could not conceal the expressiveness of his eyes, nor the gentle curve of his lips that hinted at a smile.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked, his voice weaving through the din of the ballroom to reach you, clear and resonant.

The invitation, unexpected yet undeniably thrilling, sparked a mixture of excitement and apprehension within you. The thought of dancing with someone so fundamentally different, whose very form defied the conventions of the dances you knew, had your heart quickening in intrigue.

"I would be delighted," you replied, the words slipping out almost of their own accord, driven by the allure of the unknown. "Though, I must admit, I'm not entirely sure how to dance with... someone as unique as yourself."

His chuckle, a rich sound that seemed to resonate from deep within, was both reassuring and infectious. "Fear not," he assured you, a playful glint in his eyes. "When one possesses eight legs, one learns to make quite a few adjustments. I shall lead, and all you need to do is follow."

With swift grace, he offered you his hand, his movements as fluid and assured as they were gentle. As you placed your hand in his, the contrast between his strength and the careful tenderness of his touch was striking.

Together, you moved towards the dance floor, the thrum of anticipation building with each step. The crowd seemed to part for us, their curiosity mingled with an unspoken respect for the majesty of his presence.

As you reached the center of the dance floor, the music swelled, a lilting melody that seemed to wrap around you, inviting you to lose yourself in the rhythm. With a grace that took your breath away, he began to move, leading you into the dance with an ease that made your earlier apprehensions seem distant memories.

The world around you faded, the grandeur of the ballroom, the whispering guests, even the constraints of your own body seemed to dissolve in the magic of the moment. Iskinder's movements were a marvel, lithe legs strangely delicate. He was beautiful.

As the dance reached its crescendo, he executed a twirl, his movements orchestrating yours with such skill that you found yourself spinning, the room whirling around you in a blur of lights and colours. In that moment, suspended in the dance, you felt a joyous abandon that had your heart in your throat.

As the momentum of the twirl gently subsided, you found yourself momentarily unsteady, the world still spinning slightly around you. In an instant, one of the drider’ss slender spider legs moved to steady you against his chest. The unexpectedness of the gesture, the feel of his leg against you, might have startled you under different circumstances, but in that moment, it was nothing short of a saving grace.

"I do apologise," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble that resonated through the close space between you. "I sometimes forget how... unconventional my form can be."

You shook your head, a small smile playing at your lips, your heart still racing from the dance and the near fall. "No, I should be thanking you. Without your quick reflexes, I'd have been the evening's spectacle, tumbling across the dance floor."

The thought alone was enough to bring a flush of embarrassment to your cheeks, the imagined titters and whispers of the assembled guests a mortifying prospect. Yet, his next gesture swept away any lingering discomfort.

With a tenderness that took you by surprise, he reached up to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The contact, brief though it was, sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

"You are quite a spectacle, though for entirely different reasons," he said, his voice low, imbued with a sincerity that made you lift your gaze to meet his. In the gold of his eyes, you saw a warmth, an admiration that held you captive, and for a fleeting moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.

The air between you charged. There was a pull as undeniable as it was unexpected. You found yourself leaning in, drawn by a force you couldn't quite name, the distance between you diminishing with each passing second. The possibility of a kiss, the mingling of breath and the meeting of lips, hovered in the space between you, tantalizing and terrifying in equal measure.

As the reality of the moment, of the public setting and the eyes that might very well be upon you, crashed back in, you took a step back, breaking the spell. The loss of proximity felt like a cold draft, a reminder of the boundaries that society, and your own caution, imposed.

Sensing the shift, Iskinder's expression softened, a note of concern creeping into his voice. "Perhaps you need some fresh air," he suggested, his gaze searching yours for signs of distress.

You shook your head, the rapid beat of your heart beginning to steady once more. "No, truly, I'm fine," you insisted, though the lingering warmth of his touch and the nearness of what might have been left you feeling anything but settled.

Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, he proposed once more, his voice gentle yet insistent. "Perhaps a moment of fresh air would do you good," he suggested, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that made it difficult to look away. "And, should you wish for company, I could join you outside in a few moments. It might afford us the opportunity to converse away from the crowd."

The idea of retreating to the relative solitude of the gardens, especially in the company of such an intriguing figure, sparked a flicker of excitement within you. Yet, the impropriety of the suggestion, the departure from the strictures of decorum that such a meeting would entail, gave you pause.

Sensing your reluctance, he added, "At events such as these, draped in masks and shadows, propriety often takes a back seat to intrigue. We are all here to escape the mundane, if only for a night."

His words, spoken with a confidence that bordered on persuasion, tipped the scales. The allure of stolen moments under the cover of night, away from the prying eyes and whispered judgments of the ballroom, proved too tempting to resist.

Resolved to take a chance on the unexpected, you agreed to meet him outside. Yet, before you could part ways, a sudden thought struck you. "I realise I don't even know your name," you said, a blush colouring your cheeks at the oversight.

With a smile that was both enigmatic and disarmingly genuine, he replied, "My name is Lord Iskinder." The revelation, delivered with a flash of sharp, predatory teeth that glinted in the ballroom's light, sent a jolt of surprise through you.

Lord Iskinder. The enigmatic host of the ball, the subject of whispered speculation and rumour, stood before you, not just a figure of myth but a living, breathing presence.

As the significance of the revelation settled over you, Iskinder offered a nod of acknowledgment, as if he understood the weight of what he had just disclosed. Then, turning delicately, he turned and vanished into the crowd.

As you stepped out into the crisp embrace of the evening air a minute later, the gardens unfolded before you like a scene from a dream. The lawns were bordered by beds of fragrant flowers, their sweet scent mingling with the earthy aroma of the night. Lanterns hung from the boughs of ancient trees, casting a soft, dappled light that danced on the pathways, guiding your steps and painting the scene with an ethereal glow.

Ahead, a gazebo, draped in climbing ivy and delicate blooms, stood as a focal point within the garden's design. It was there, under its latticed roof, that you noticed two orcish women, their forms silhouetted by the lanterns' gentle luminescence. They were locked in an embrace, sharing a kiss as the shorter woman titled her head back.

The sight, tender and unabashed, stirred a curious longing within you, a whisper of wonder about the sensation of Iskinder's kiss, the press of his lips.

Lost in thought, you scarcely noticed the approach of a presence until it was nearly upon you. The air seemed to shift, charged with an anticipation that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Turning, you found yourself once again in the company of Iskinder, his smile ravishing.

Under the moonlight, he appeared transformed. The soft silver light lent an ethereal quality to his features, highlighting the angularity of his face and the deep pools of his molten gold eyes. His hair, a cascading waterfall of black, shimmered with a lustrous sheen. The spider half of his form, though shadowed, moved with a silent grace that was utterly mesmerising.

His voice, when he spoke, was a soft murmur that seemed to caress the night air, a contrast to the visual ferocity of his form. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," he said, his words tinged with warmth.

The sight of him, so formidable yet so gentle, made you squirm. The flash of sharp teeth as he spoke, far from deterring you, only served to heighten the allure. Gods, you wanted to kiss him.

As if attuned to your thoughts, Iskinder leaned in, his proximity erasing the remnants of the evening's chill. The scent of roses, a natural, earthy fragrance that seemed to emanate from his very being, mingled with notes of champagne. His hair brushed against your skin, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down your spine.

The air between you was charged with anticipation, every breath you took laced with the promise of what might come. His eyes, glowing softly in the moonlit garden, held yours with an intensity that seemed to pierce through to your very soul. You found yourself caught in the gravity of the moment, the world around you narrowing to the space where you and Iskinder stood, teetering on the brink of a kiss.

Yet, just as the distance between you dwindled to nothing, as you braced for the contact you both sought and feared, Iskinder pulled back. The sudden absence of his warmth left you momentarily adrift, a silent plea on your lips. He didn't move far; instead, his hand found yours, his grip firm and reassuring as he led you deeper into the garden.

The path wound through the garden, each step taking you further from the ballroom's echoes and closer to a solitude you hadn't realized you craved. When you arrived at a secluded flower garden, embraced by latticed walls that seemed to hold the night at bay, Iskinder stopped. Here, surrounded by the gentle fragrance of blooms and the soft rustle of leaves, he turned to face you once more.

This time, there was no hesitation. Iskinder pulled you into his embrace, his arms encircling you with a strength that was both protective and inviting.

Then, he kissed you.

The kiss was everything and nothing like you'd imagined. His lips were softer than you'd expected, their touch igniting a fire that raced through your veins, leaving you breathless and wanting. The taste of him, masculine and sharp, was tempered by the sweetness of champagne on his tongue.

As Iskinder deepened the kiss, the world around you seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on yours, the gentle yet insistent press of his lips, and the intermingling of your breaths. The sharpness of his teeth grazed your lip in a fleeting caress, a thrill of danger that made you sigh almost wistfully.

Finally, necessity compelled you to break the kiss, the need for air pulling you back to the present. You were left breathless, your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue - you knew by how hot you felt, burning up.

Iskinder, ever attentive, placed a lingering kiss at the corner of your lips. His arm remained securely around your waist, sharp nails just grazing your hips.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, the words a tender echo in the secluded garden. The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell.

In a moment of boldness, fueled by the magic of the night and the undeniable bond you felt, you replied, "So are you, Lord Iskinder. Beautiful."

For a moment, Iskinder seemed taken aback, a bashful light touching his eyes. "People rarely call me beautiful," he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "Yet, coming from you, I believe it."

You reached up to flutter a hand across his cheek, where the cool mask met his skin.

As the night air began to cool, Iskinder pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Shall we go back? I find myself eager to dance with you again, under the watchful eyes of my guests."

The prospect of rejoining the throng of guests, of stepping back into the public eye where the magic of your secluded encounter might fade, filled you with a quiet disappointment.

“Can’t we just stay out here forever?”

Sensing your reluctance, Iskinder offered a compromise, his voice low and inviting. "If you would grant me the honor of your company tomorrow evening, you could return to my home. There, away from prying eyes, we could spend the night… just the two of us."

The invitation sparked a flame of anticipation within you. The promise of more time with Iskinder was an offer too compelling to refuse.

With a grin, you nodded - and stood on your toes to pull him in for one last, lingering kiss.

#monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x reader #exophilia fiction #exophilia #tag: drider #tag: mxf #tag: male monster #tag: female reader #tag: sfw

175 notes · View notes

rednotebooksworld · 8 months

Text

Righting a Wrong

male merman/fem!human!reader

SFW oneshot

contains: human misdeeds, cursing and enemies to friends??? Idk

Summary: a young merman gets tangled up in some old fishing line and you decided to help

~***~

“Ow! Watch what you’re doing, human!”

You huffed in annoyance. You were in the middle of help a young merman, who got himself suck in some old fishing line on the shore of Saint Valor, an island that was a port, traded with the mainland.

“If you’d stop moving around maybe I wouldn’t nick you with my blade.” You said, shaking the switchblade you had in your hand.

He frowns as he scoffed. “Whatever.” His tail swished in the water, splashing you a bit as he but his chin in his palm.

“Curb the attitude, man. I’m trying to help you.” You said, going back to cutting the tough fishing line.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” He said.

“Yes you did.” You replied back.

“No, I didn’t. I could’ve gotten out myself!” He exclaimed.

“Right by tangling yourself up even more,” You said. “Look I just thought I could help.”

“You humans are such a bother. From your damn fishing nets to your loitering on the beach and polluting our ocean with your loud boats.” He growled.

“Really? You do realize our boats are our way of life. We need things from the mainland or else people will die.” You said.

“Hmphf, less humans to worry about.” He said nonchalantly.

You scowled at him as you flicked the side of his tail with your fingers.

“Ow! Human! What the hell!” He exclaimed.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that.” You said.

“Well, I’m sorry,” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Why should I have any sort of sympathy for you humans?” He asked.

“Because humans aren’t all in the same box, stupid.” You said.

“Ha! Yeah right,” He said scoffing with a smirk. “The elders never lie. Especially about you humans.”

You frowned as you took your knife away from the fishing net. “Fine then if you think humans are all the same then I’ll leave your sorry ass here and let you die.” You threatened.

The young merman’s eyes widened at this as you stood up, folding your switchblade and putting it back in your pocket. You were about to walk away when he called out to you.

“W-Wait, hold on a second!” He exclaimed.

You stop and turn around to look at him you had an unamused look on your face.

“I’m… I’m sorry… please… don’t leave me here.” He mumbled.

“Are you done being a dick?” You asked.

“Y-Yeah, please get me out of this net.” He said.

He wasn’t looking at you, he was look down at the ground in shame and embarrassment. You, a human were trying to help him and he was just being cruel and mean to you.

“Alright then. I just want to right a wrong. Some fishermen don’t care about the ocean but some of us normal folk do,” You take out your switchblade and started cutting at the fishing net again. “Our whole lives depend on the sea for ships to come into the docks to transport goods and other things that we need. I’m sorry that humans are scum and your eyes but don’t think that we don’t have it rough.” You said.

“I understand…” He said. “I… I never knew that… so do you think my elders are wrong?” He asked looking up at you.

“Somewhat, they need to look at humans individually. Every human isn’t all black and white, you know. We make mistakes, some more then others but the choices we make are our own and the faults of others shouldn’t be casted onto others that haven’t done anything.” You said.

“I see…” He said, he seemed to think about what you said a little. The young merman was dragged out of his thoughts when your voice was heard.

“There. You’re free now.” You said.

He blinks a couple of times then he looks up at you. “Oh, um, thank you.” He said softly.

The two of you say in silence as you put away your switchblade. Then you asked. “Can you make home alright?”

He looked to you then he looked away at the open water of the Saint Valor. He nodded. “Yes, I am.” He said.

“Good. Well, goodbye then.” You said.

You started walking away from the young merman. He whipped his head around and called out to you again. “W-Wait, wait a second!” He exclaimed.

You stopped in your tracks turning around again, looking at him.

He sheepishly looked away then he looked back at you. “Can I see you again?” He asked.

Your eyes widened at his question. Why does he want to see you again? You thought he hated humans. But then again you can see he’s young and looks to around your age if merfolk age like humans do that is. He was probably just believing whatever the elders or his parents told him and never met a human before in his life so you must have changed his perspective.

“Why?” You asked.

“Be…Because… you are so much different then what I perceive humans to be. I want… I want to get know you better.. maybe you can teach me humans aren’t all bad like the elders says.” He said.

He being serious, he’s not being a cocky little bastard. “Okay.” You said bluntly.

“Really?” He responded back as her perked up a bit from his sheepish expression.

“Yes, really. You can visit whenever.” You said.

“How about tomorrow? Same place?” He asked.

This shallow were a nice spot to meet. You nodded with a slight smile. “Okay then tomorrow it is.” You said.

“Great.” The young merman made his way back into the deep parts of the sea, he waved to you before he disappeared back into the depths of Saint Valor.

~***~

a/n: oh btw, I don’t have a name for this boy. So if you have any name suggestions please feel free to put them in the comments or my inbox 😊

#monster #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster romance #red’s oc #tag: mxf #tag: sfw #monster x human #merman #merman x human #merman x reader

402 notes · View notes

griffinkid · 1 month

Text

I've seen "I don't know how to play with toys anymore" a few times lately and just wanted to point out-

Playing with toys looks different for everyone, even actual children!

Playing with toys can look like: 🧸🪁🚂

Taking pictures of your toys and writing captions for them

Brushing or grooming soft toys or toys with rooted hair

Ordering or sorting your toys by colour/species etc

Making up stories, poems or comics about your toys

Dressing or accessorising your toys

Imagining your toys talking to you or each other, forming opinions of their own, etc

Drawing your toys

Taking your toys for a walk outside, even in a backpack or pocket if you don't want to carry them openly

Making lists of the toys you have and where you got them etc

Feel free to add your own ideas

#removing the agere part of the original text to make it more general but it still stands #since I saw at least one 'not agere but-' on this and wanted to make it more broad #Hester rambles #I don't know if this will be relevant to any of you but just in case #let's tag this why not #plushies #stuffies #toycore #kidcore #plushcore #agere #sfw agere #agedre #age dreaming

4K notes · View notes

master-xochimilli · 2 months

Text

I just want soft cuddlefucking. Arms holding me tightly, a nice slow deep fuck, kissing and praising me while wiping my tears away, fucking all the stupid sad out my head, reassuring me it'll be okay soon and that they've got me

3K notes · View notes

booaue · 8 months

Text

A lion who sings songs

3K notes · View notes

apotheoseity · 3 months

Text

gift art for @fagdragon !!!! give this beast treats NOW

#apotheoarts #digital art #artist on tumblr #digital artist #animation #gif #hi salad #dragon #bug dragon #feral furry #furry #furry art #anthro #anthro art #safe furry #safe fur work #sfw furry #furry oc #< lying for tags but it counts

1K notes · View notes

sproutfriend · 5 months

Text

well, do ya?

#furry #sfw furry #digital art #digital artist #fursona #furry fandom #furry art #opossum #possum #procreate #lizards #lizard #reptile #anthro #idk what else to tag pls enjoy my possum

2K notes · View notes

heartnosekid · 2 months

Text

thecrystalkeepers on ig

butterflies pictured (as far as i can tell, in order): chocolate solider (junonia iphita), postman butterfly (heliconius melpomene), malachite butterfly (siproeta stelenes), blue moon butterfly (hypolimnas bolina), another two malachites, some type of lacewing butterfly (the coloration is throwing me off), another blue moon butterfly, two more malachites, and i think the top butterfly in the last gif is the chocolate solider from the first gif, and the one on their hand looks like another blue moon butterfly. if i got any of these wrong, please let me know!

1K notes · View notes

mxnsterbabe · 24 days

Text

Male Werewolf/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,408 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You're injured on a hike, and your friend leaves you stranded. Luckily, a kind man is there to help - but he isn't all he seems.

The hiking trail stretched before you, a winding path through lush forest, dappled with the light of a setting sun. Jayne marched ahead, her pace brisk and determined, barely acknowledging the rugged beauty that surrounded you both.

You lagged behind, your muscles aching and your breath coming in short gasps.

"Come on, hurry up!" Jayne called over her shoulder, her tone tinged with impatience.

You mustered the energy to quicken your pace, but the pain in your limbs protested. "I'm going as fast as I can," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

Jayne stopped and turned to face you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. "We need to get to the car park before dark."

You rolled your eyes, storming off ahead of Jayne as she continued to berate you. It was partly spite that spurred you on, partly knowing that she was right. It would be dark soon.

You were about to tell Jayne to hurry up when your leg snagged on a fallen branch. You stumbled, feeling something hit your leg as you tried to catch your balance.

The sudden pain was sharp, a white-hot flare that made you gasp, halting you in your tracks. You stumbled, reaching out to steady yourself against a tree.

"Are you okay?" Jayne's asked, although annoyance still made her scowl.

"I... I think I twisted my ankle," you managed through gritted teeth, the pain making it difficult to focus.

"I'll go back to the car and call for help," Jayne said decisively, already turning to leave.

The thought of being left alone, especially now with an injured ankle and the light rapidly fading, sent a wave of panic through you. "You're going to leave me here? Alone? I thought you said it wasn't safe to be out here after dark," you reminded her, heart skipping.

Jayne paused, her expression conflicted "I can only call for help from the parking lot; there's no signal here. Anyway, it makes sense for at least one of us to be safe in the car.”

The implication that your safety was somehow less important, that it was preferable to leave you vulnerable and alone, struck you as incredibly selfish.

"So, it's just about your safety, then?" you asked, incredulous.

Jayne's face hardened, a defensive edge creeping into her voice. "It's not like that, and you know it. What good would it do for both of us to be stuck out here?"

In the end, despite your protests, Jayne set off back down the trail, parking lot before it gets dark," she insisted, her gaze fixed on the rapidly fading light.

Annoyance bubbled up inside you, the day's frustrations finding a voice. "We wouldn't have to worry about the dark if you hadn't been late this afternoon," you retorted, the words sharper than intended.

“It’s not my fault your slow.”

"You always do this, Jayne!" you exclaimed, frustration now rising to the forefront. "You set this impossible pace and expect me to just keep up."

Jayne turned to face you, her hands on her hips. "It's not impossible. We've done hikes like this before. I just don't want us to be out here after dark. It's not safe," she countered, her voice firm.

"I get that, but maybe we wouldn't be in such a rush if someone hadn't overslept," you shot back, the tension between you crackling.

Jayne sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Look, I said I was sorry about that, but we can't change it now. We need to move."

Determined not to let the argument be the end of it, you pushed off from the ground, attempting to quicken your pace to match Jayne's. As you hurried to catch up, your foot caught on a hidden root, sending a jolt of pain up your leaving you abandoned and vulnerable as the shadows lengthened and the forest seemed to close in around you.

Time seemed to stretch into eternity as you waited, the dwindling light casting long shadows through the trees. Every so often, you checked your phone, hoping for a miracle of reception, but it remained stubbornly void of any signal.

The thought of Jayne returning with help began to feel more like a distant hope than a certainty.

As the forest grew darker, a sense of resignation settled over you. The idea of hobbling back to the parking lot on your own seemed daunting, yet the alternative—spending the night alone and injured in the woods—was far worse. Jayne's decision to leave, her potential to drive away in a fit of anger, wasn't entirely out of character, but the reality of being abandoned like this was a new low, even for her.

Just as you mustered the courage to test your weight on your injured ankle, a rustle from the underbrush made you freeze. Tension gripped you, the fear of being alone in the dark forest suddenly compounded by the presence of an unknown.

Then, he appeared. A man, tall and lean, emerged from the trees. His black hair was unkempt, as if he too belonged to the wilds, and his eyes—a striking shade of green-gold—almost glowed with an inner light.

"Do you need help?" His voice was gentle, a stark contrast to his rugged appearance.

Warily, you nodded, the instinct to distrust strangers warring with the immediate need for assistance. "Yes," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying your apprehension.

Something about him, maybe the genuine concern in his gaze or the calm assurance with which he surveyed the situation, eased the tight knot of fear in your chest.

“My name’s Nikhil, by the way.” His voice carried a faint accent, Indian, though you couldn't pinpoint where specifically. It was soft, though, and mellow in a way that had you relaxing despite your worry.

"I can help you walk," Nikhil offered, stepping closer. "You can lean on my shoulder, or if you prefer, I can carry you."

There was a lightness in his tone, a smile on his lips. Despite the situation, Nikhil seemed to find a way to lighten the mood, his confidence reassuring.

"No, thanks," you replied, managing a small smile despite the blush overtaking your cheeks. "An arm around your shoulder is fine."

As you tentatively placed your arm around him, you were immediately struck by his strength. His lean frame belied the solidity of his build, his muscles tensing under your touch as he carefully adjusted to support your weight.

The walk back was slow and awkward, each step a careful negotiation of the uneven ground and your compromised balance. Nikhil moved with a surprising grace, his steps sure and steady, contrasting the faltering nature of your own.

"Never thought I'd be someone's knight in shining armour," Nikhil joked, his voice light, trying to ease the tension.

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. You didn’t quite know what to say to that, so you said nothing.

The silence that enveloped you both was neither awkward nor entirely comfortable; it carried a tinge of tension. You found yourself searching for something, anything, to fill the void, to ease the growing restlessness in your mind.

It was Nikhil who broke the silence, his voice cutting through the stillness of the evening. "Were you hiking alone?" he inquired.

You hesitated, the memory of Jayne's departure still fresh, still stinging. "No, I was with a friend. She went to get help... about an hour and a half ago," you admitted, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Nikhil's brows knit together in a frown, a subtle shift in his expression. "That's odd," he mused, his gaze thoughtful. "We're not that far from the parking lot. It shouldn't have taken this long for her to get help—or to come back."

The implication of his words hung between you, undeniable. You knew, deep down, that Jayne's absence had stretched too long, her promise to return with help fading with each passing minute. The realisation, coupled with Nikhil's observation, cemented a growing dread in the pit of your stomach.

Despite the unease, Nikhil's steady presence, the warmth of his shoulder supporting you, offered a sliver of comfort in the midst of uncertainty. His concern, though offered by a stranger, felt genuine, a small beacon of hope on the long walk back.

As you continued to hobble along, leaning heavily on Nikhil, a sharp spike of pain shot through your ankle, forcing you to stop. "I need a moment," you gasped, stumbling.

Nikhil gently helped you to a fallen log, his concern evident as he knelt to examine your ankle. The skin was stretched tight, ankle puffy and swollen.

"It's definitely sprained," he concluded, his voice laced with sympathy. He looked up at you, his green-gold eyes serious in the dim light. "I know a shortcut," he said. "It's off the trail, but it'll get us to the parking lot faster."

The suggestion set off alarm bells in your mind. Going off-trail, especially in your condition and with night closing in, seemed like a recipe for disaster. "I don't know," you hesitated. "Isn't that a bad idea?"

Nikhil's assurance was immediate. "I know this forest well," he said, though the vagueness of his claim did little to quell your apprehensions. "Trust me."

"How well do you know it?" you pressed, seeking something concrete to hold onto in the sea of uncertainties.

He offered a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Let's just say I've spent a lot of time here," he replied, the ambiguity of his answer doing little to satisfy your curiosity.

Despite your reservations, the desire to end the ordeal, to be back in the safety and comfort of the familiar, won out. You nodded. "Okay, let's go."

As you ventured off the marked trail, the forest seemed to close in around you, the trees standing like silent sentinels in the darkness. Then, cutting through the stillness, a lone wolf howled, the sound eerie and unsettling in the quiet of the night.

You froze, a new wave of fear washing over you. "I didn't think there were wolves here," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Nikhil's hand found yours, his grip reassuring. "Don't worry about it," he said, his voice steady and calm. "We'll be fine."

As you pressed on, the determination to keep moving overrode the throbbing pain in your ankle. The fear of being vulnerable in the dark, unfamiliar woods urged you to ignore the discomfort, to focus on the path ahead.

In your haste, your foot caught on something, sending you stumbling forward. Before you could brace for the fall, Nikhil's arms were around you, pulling you back against his chest. For a moment, you were acutely aware of the warmth of his body, the strength in his embrace, and the faint scent of pine that seemed to cling to him.

"Careful," he chided gently, a hint of amusement in his voice. You found yourself face-to-face with him, and the proximity offered a new perspective. His features, which had seemed rugged and mysterious in the dim light of the trail, now carried a softness, an approachability that made your heart flutter unexpectedly.

"Thanks for catching me," you managed to say, a mix of gratitude and newfound awareness colouring your tone.

Nikhil's smile widened, his eyes twinkling with a playful light. "Any time," he replied with a grin. You noticed sharp canines, and something in you tightened.

He straightened, his hands still steadying you. "We're nearly there," he promised, though the exact destination remained as vague as his familiarity with the woods. "Do you want me to carry you? It might be easier."

Considering the pain in your ankle and the unsettling howls that seemed to follow you, you nodded. "Yes, thank you," you said, embarrassment making your cheeks flush.

Truthfully, you weren’t sure it was entirely necessary for him to carry you, and yet you couldn’t say no.

As Nikhil carefully lifted you into his arms, you heard another chorus of howls, closer this time, sending a shiver down your spine. "Those wolves," you began, your voice tight with concern, "you're sure they're not dangerous?"

Nikhil's pace didn't falter as he carried you, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. "They're not a danger to us," he reassured you, his confidence unshaken. The certainty in his voice was meant to comfort, but it only confused you more. How could he be so sure?

Your mind raced with questions, but the warmth of his hold and the steady rhythm of his stride lulled you into a sense of security.

Silence settled over you again, as you tried to subtly bury yourself into Nikhil’s hoodie. He kept walking, and eventually the trail gave way to the more familiar terrain of the parking lot.

The sight of the open space, bathed in the yellow glow of the overhead streetlights, had relief flooding through you. Nikhil carefully set you down, his arms lingering for a moment longer than necessary, as if reluctant to break the contact.

"Thank you," you said, your voice soft. The proximity, the rush of your own pulse, had you wanting to close the space between you and Nikhil. To kiss him.

As Nikhil stepped back though, the artificial light cast him in a new perspective. For the first time, you saw him clearly, and the sight took your breath away. His eyes, under the harsh glare of the streetlights, held an unmistakable glow. The sharpness of his canines, visible as he offered you a reassuring smile, and the poised, almost predatory grace with which he held himself, suggested a nature far removed from the human.

The realisation struck you so suddenly, it knocked the breath from your lungs. The man who had guided you through the darkness, who had offered comfort and protection, was not entirely what he seemed..

What was he?

As Nikhil noticed your lingering gaze, he seemed to retreat instinctively, away from the light. The subtle shift in his demeanour didn't escape your notice; it was as if he was suddenly wary.

"Why do your eyes glow like that?" you asked, the question driven by a mix of fascination and a need to understand the man who had been your unexpected saviour.

"It's nothing," Nikhil brushed off, his voice carrying a finality that suggested the topic was off-limits. "I should go now that you're safe."

Your curiosity was piqued, and his evasive answer only served to fuel it further. "Please," you persisted, stepping closer to the edge of the shadows in an attempt to see him more clearly. "There's something... different about you."

The night air was punctuated by another howl, closer this time, its tone carrying an almost human quality that sent a shiver down your spine. The sound seemed to resonate with something within Nikhil, as he shivered.

As you watched, his eyes glowed brighter. The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. It was ridiculous to even think it, but…

Nikhil didn't have to say the words for you to understand; he wasn’t human. He was something other, something strange and supernatural. It should have scared you, but when you looked at Nikhil’s angular face and unsure smile, it was impossible to be afraid.

"I... I understand," you said, finally, “you don’t have to tell me.”

As the cool night air sent a shiver through you, Nikhil seemed to notice from the edge of the shadows. Stepping forward, he shed his hoodie, offering it to you with a gentle, "Here, take this."

Wrapped in the warmth of his hoodie, the fabric carrying the faint scent of pine and something uniquely him, you couldn't help but smile. "How am I supposed to get this back to you?" you asked with a smile.

Nikhil's response was light, his eyes twinkling with amusement in the dim light. "Guess we'll just have to meet up again," he replied. He reached out as if to touch you, only to pause, brows furrowed.

The idea sparked something within you, a flicker of excitement at the prospect of seeing him again. "How about Friday at two?" you ventured. "I could bring a picnic, or we could go somewhere nice for lunch..."

"Sounds perfect," Nikhil agreed, his voice warm. The simple plan seemed to solidify something between you, something you couldn’t place.

Nikhil took a step closer, closing the distance with a certainty that seemed to pull you in. The warmth of his hoodie enveloped you, his scent—a mix of the wild forest and something uniquely him—filled your senses.

His arms encircled you, strong and reassuring, drawing you into his embrace. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to stand still, the noise of the forest fading into a distant hum. The kiss was soft, a gentle inquiry that you answered willingly, deepening the connection as your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his tousled hair.

Nikhil tasted of pine and coffee. He drew you in, tongue teasing your lower lip and you gladly gave him entrance; he was soft and warm and everything you needed, even as sharp canines dug into your skin.

Gently, you pulled away from the kiss, lips tingling. Nikhil, sensing your need to catch your bearings, tenderly kissed your forehead before stepping away.

"I'll be here, Friday at two," he promised. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small, slightly worn piece of paper and scribbled down his phone number. "Just in case," he added with a smile, handing it to you.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension. "I didn't expect you to have a phone," you teased, a playful challenge in your tone.

Nikhil's response was a light, amused chuckle. "I might spend a lot of time in the woods, but I do have a house. With electricity and everything," he countered, his grin infectious.

“Good. I’ll call you, then.”

Turning towards the parking lot, the reality of your situation came back into focus. There, just as you'd left it, was the car. Jayne watched you from the back seat. Relief washed over you at the sight.

With a final glance back at Nikhil, who watched you with a look that was both protective and promising, you made your way to the car. You waved, and he waved back. Something soft settled in your chest.

As you reached the car and gently opened the door, the interior light flicked on. Blinking against the sudden brightness, she squinted up at you, confusion etched across her face. "Who was that?" she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Just someone who helped me," you replied, keeping the details sparse as you slid into the front passenger seat.

Jayne shifted, sitting up straighter. "I did call for help, you know," she said, her voice defensive. "But my signal was all over the place. I'm not even sure the call went through."

The explanation did little to quell the frustration that bubbled up inside you. "Why didn't you come back, then?" you asked, the question laced with the lingering hurt of being left alone.

Jayne's apology was quick, her gaze dropping as she admitted, "I didn't want to risk getting lost too... I thought it was better to wait by the car."

The silence that followed was heavy. While part of you acknowledged that Jayne's fear of getting lost was valid, the decision to leave you stranded still stung. It was clear that, although the ordeal had ended safely, the trust in your friendship had been shaken.

"I understand," you finally said, the words diplomatic yet distant. "I think this should be our last hike together."

Jayne, sensing the tension, quietly climbed into the driver's seat, her movements cautious. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" she asked, her concern genuine despite the awkwardness that now hung between you.

You shook your head, settling into the passenger seat with a weary sigh. "No, I'll just ice it when I get home. I'll see how it feels tomorrow." The last thing you wanted was to extend the evening any further with a trip to the hospital, especially with Jayne's company, which had become strangely unwelcome in light of recent events.

As the car pulled away from the forest, you cast a lingering glance through the rear window. There, at the very edge of the treeline, stood Nikhil, a solitary figure blending with the shadows.

A small, grateful smile found its way to your lips as you waved Nikhil goodbye. He raised a hand and waved back, before vanishing into the trees.

Despite everything that had happened tonight, you were grateful for one thing; Nikhil.

#monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x reader #exophilia fiction #exophilia #tag: mxf #tag: female reader #tag: male reader #tag: sfw #tag: were

157 notes · View notes