#exophilia fic

[ragdoll-exoart]

Welcome to the Witch’s Hut - II

This fic has mature content. Only read it if you are +18

If you don’t like the theme, don’t read! Check the tags!

Previous chapter

Werewolf x female human

II - Hans

Lily was inside her hut, reading an old book behind the balcony. It was nearly midnight and the witch wasn't expecting any customers at this late hour. Nonetheless, the hanging bell announced a visitor when the door opened. Lily didn't acknowledge the presence of the stranger, slightly annoyed by the interruption, and kept her eyes glued on the book, wanting to at least finish the page she was reading.

The visitor stood in the middle of the room in complete silence, waiting patiently for the tiny woman with unruly purple locks of hair to finish her task. When she finally decided to question the reasons for such a late visit, she was startled to see that the person in question was a male nearly seven feet tall. She felt uncomfortable that the owner of such an imposing figure was able to erase his presence so well. Then she skimmed her eyes over the man and understood what he really was.

A wolf in sheep's clothing... a giant deadly sheep, this one.

She wasn't afraid, of course, he was the one inside a witch's territory. No matter how powerful he could be, the hut was her temple and Lily was like a goddess inside her place.

But there was no need to feel alarmed just because she was caught off guard. She couldn't feel any harmful intentions coming from the werewolf who stood in the room using his human form. As a man he was tall and muscular, his shirt had a few buttons open, showing his chest, hairy like his forearms. A stubble covered his face and his hair was short, with a chestnut color that matched his eyes.

As Lily studied his appearance, he studied her back, and the faint smirk forming on his lips showed that he liked what he was seeing. His canines were slightly sharp even in his human form.

She lifted an eyebrow and stared at him with her best expression of disdain. "Can I help you?" The fact that he waited for Lily to talk first indicated to the witch that he wasn't stupid at least.

He shuffled the hair on the back of his head, sheepishly, showing a small flush on his neck and cheeks. He gave two steps towards her. "I don't know if you can help me," He said hesitantly, looking around. "Truth be told, I don't even know how I came to find this place,"

The witch opened a smirk. For her hut to allow and invite him at such a late hour, it was meant as a gift delivered to her on a silver platter. Obviously, the werewolf wanted something very dirty.

"Just tell me what you've been thinking," She said nonchalantly as she played with a purple lock of hair.

"Oh, I- I—" He turned red as a tomato.

"You, you," She teased. "I'll ask again, what have you been thinking at such a late hour to arrive at my place?" She smirked mischievously. "I warn you that I'm a witch and I'll know if you are lying to my face,"

He averted his gaze and opened a nervous smile. "I was only thinking about having a female company tonight, if you know what I mean,"

She giggled. "Yes, and we both know this isn't all you've been thinking about," Lily said in a flirty voice as she batted her eyelashes at him.

The man let out a breath as if she punched his stomach. Then he looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. He gave a few steps towards her until only the balcony was between them. He opened a charming smirk as he leaned closer to the witch, supporting his weight on his elbows. "If you know what I want, why do you ask?" He asked in a hoarse voice.

Lily shrugged. "If you want something, you have to at least have the balls to say it aloud,"

He bit his lower lip as he leered at her with a dark gaze. "It's not about balls, dear, it's about a knot and I doubt someone your size can take it," He said in a way that indicated that he wanted to be wrong about it.

The witch laughed. "Oh I see, Mr. werewolf can be blunt,"

He never stated clearly what he was, but didn’t seem fazed by the fact that she was aware of his condition. After all, as a witch, it was her job to know and notice things that ordinary people usually didn't. He opened a smile full of teeth. "I can be many things, love. I can be a gentleman for you if you are in the mood for some adventure today,"

Lily chuckled darkly. "You can be many things, but a gentleman it's not one of them,"

"We barely met and you already know me so well," He said in a flirtatious voice.

"Not yet. It seems I need to know more about this knot you mentioned,"

"You aren't scared," He declared, clearly amused and somehow relieved. He tickled her under the chin with his index finger and opened a mischievous smirk. "Does this mean that I can be a big bad wolf to you?"

"You can try,"

"Oho! You're bold and talk big, my love, I hope you don't cower when you see how big and bad I can be..."

"I'm a witch, Mr. Werewolf... way older than I appear to be, I saw and heard many things in this life. Do you really think you can impress me?" She said in defiance.

He stared her down and looked unsure for a moment. "You know that I mean to fuck you AFTER I transform, right?"

Lily let out a giggle. "Oh, I expect nothing more! Fucking humans seems too bland for me nowadays... but receiving a werewolf's knot... that would be a first!" She winked at him. The witch had a few friends who had the experience of mating with werewolves and was always curious about how it felt. It was good that she knew a little about what to expect, though it was still a dangerous business.

The werewolf regarded her in silence for a few seconds. "I see... Do you really want to do this or do you just want something in return?"

The werewolf wasn't stupid after all. He was aware that everything had a price for a witch. She smiled. "Can't I have it both ways?"

"Oh, you can, and you will," He said in a flirty tone. "Just tell me what you want from me,"

"At this moment I just want a mean werewolf to make me his bitch and bury his knot inside my pussy,"

"You just read my mind," He said in a breathless voice and got closer to her ear. "I'm Hans, by the way. And I hope to hear you scream my name lots of times tonight," Her eyes were closed and the sound of his voice sent shivers all through her body.

"You can call me Lily,"

Hans followed Lily inside one of the rooms. The hut was way bigger inside than it appeared on the exterior. They walked through long corridors until they finally found her bed chambers.

They barely reached her bed and Hans was already taking her clothes off, unbuttoning her dress from behind.

"I told you I don't want to fuck a human," Lily admonished him.

Hans grinned maliciously. "As you wish," He said and shoved Lily on the bed. Before she could even start to scold him, there was in front of her a fully transformed werewolf, almost twice her height, all covered in brown fur, with gold-yellow eyes and very sharp teeth. The witch felt her core throb in anticipation.

She asked for a big bad wolf and he gave her that. He ripped her clothes off with his claws and teeth and put her on fours. Hans didn't have the courtesy to lap her pussy a few times to get her ready for him, he mounted Lily without ceremony, sliding his red cock inside her cunt easily, as it was thin and wet at first, engorging in size and girth as he penetrated her vigorously like a wild animal.

Lily screamed his name like Hans predicted she would do, but never asked him to stop. Oh, she enjoyed the rough approach quite a lot and it excited her to find someone who had the balls to act so bold like that, especially under a witch’s roof.

Hans held Lily by the hips with his enormous paws as he rutted her mercilessly, resting his jaw over her shoulder and grunting near her ear. She teased him before that he wouldn't impress her with his size, but he actually did, and the moans she let out were a mix of pain and pleasure as he hammered his cock into her cervix.

When he was near his climax, he buried his cock even deeper inside her pussy and she screamed in pain and complained to him, but there was nothing she could do about it, as his knot got inside her as well and swelled quickly while his cum poured straight into her womb, filling her. The knot locked them together and she just couldn't release herself from him.

Lily cursed out loud, and the werewolf let out a grunt that sounded more like a laugh. His knot was as large as an orange and he continued to release his seed in her body and she knew that it would take a few more minutes until it deflated. But the excruciating pain soon was replaced by immense pleasure as his knot continued pulsating inside her pussy, sending waves of pure bliss near the nerve terminations of her clit. Lily moaned his name as she came around his cock, her inner walls all stretched by him. Hans grunted and locked his jaw as if he had a second orgasm as well.

Another wave of pleasure took over her, followed by another, as the knot was still there and pulsating. It was a mix of pure ecstasy and intense agony like she had never felt before. Her legs were trembling when Hans finally dislodged himself from her and Lily was uncertain if she should hex him or let him mount her once more.

It was easy to settle her decision when his warm tongue lapped her pussy, not only cleaning it but also teasing her so she would take him again as soon as they both recovered.

Hans took his time licking her folds, slowly but in a lascivious way. She shifted her body so she could stay on her back while looking at him pampering her. There was a thrill in watching a dangerous creature taking such good care of her and bringing her only joy and fulfillment. Lily felt her mouth water as she thought about giving Hans oral pleasure herself. She found her release again on his tongue, but before she could say anything, he put the witch on her fours to mount her once more.

Perhaps another day.

She gasped when he entered her again, knowing that it would be a long night since werewolves are well known for their endless stamina. Oh, Lily was pretty sure that she wouldn't be able to walk properly the following day. She almost laughed at the thought, now aware how good and straining it felt to be a werewolf's bitch.

In the end, Hans wouldn't have to give her anything back. He had left enough werewolf material all over her sheets, like semen, fur, drool... she only had to collect them later for studies and potions.

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#werewolf boyfriend #werewolf #exophilia #anthro #teratophillia #terato #creature romance #monster boyfriend #anthro x human #exophilia writing #monster x human #exophilia fic #exophilia fiction #monster smut #monster bf #monster fucker #monsterfucker #monster lover #witch #mating #fantasy creature #monster #creature #fantasy #fic writing #my fic #exo fic #monster romance

[wickedwitchofthewilds]

Day 11: Monster in the Dark

Pairing: Rose/Unknown Entity Rating: Explicit Word Count: 510 Tags: Mild dub-con, unknown/unseen monster, explicit sexual content

Read on AO3

Rose woke, a feeling that something wasn't right ripping her from sleep. She was stretched out on her stomach, the covers flung to the side, and her nightshirt bunched up around her waist. The room was dark. Not an abnormal thing, except she couldn't even see moonlight streaming in through the blinds or the faint yellow night light in the bathroom. Darkness pressed in on all sides. Rose tried to roll over but she couldn't move.

Something soft touched her ankle and jumped. Pressure kept her pinned to the mattress. The touch moved from her ankle and up her calf to her knee and she realized it felt like fingers. Rose whimpered as the brushed her inner thigh and then stopped.

"Who are you?" she whispered to no answer. The fingers remained on her inner thigh, but two distinct hands circled her ankles and gently pulled them apart. She opened her mouth to say something but a gentle kiss to her cheek made her pause. Rose didn't know how she could possibly know this, but it—whatever it was—didn't want to hurt her. The fabric of her nightshirt slid up and over her shoulders, down her arms, and tightened around her wrists, binding them together.

She relaxed into the mattress as another set of hands kneaded her shoulders. A sigh escaped her lips, the tension draining away. It kissed the back of her neck, down in between her shoulders, and followed her spine down to her tailbone. Her thighs pushed apart. Hair tickled her skin. A tongue licked from her clit to her entrance and back again.

Rose groaned into her arm, opening her thighs as wide as she could. The tongue stayed on her clit. It traced shapes over the sensitive bud until she cried out. The pressure increased on her back as if a body laid on top of her. She could almost imagine the feel of warm skin against her back. A finger pressed into her bottom lip, opening her mouth. Her tongue flicked over the shape, pulling it into her mouth. A sharp intake of breath filled her ear.

The tongue pulled away and she whined, but it didn't leave her wanting for long. Something rocked against her cunt, something that felt like a cock, and she pushed back, soundlessly begging for it. She shuddered as it filled her. Completely. As if it molded to her.

This had to be a dream. An incredibly vivid dream. More real than any sex dream she had before, not that she was complaining.

A chest heaved against her back. The cock slid in an out of her, the tongue remained on her clit, and she sucked on the finger in her mouth, pretending it wasn't a finger at all. Rose keened, warmth spreading through her cunt. Her thighs seized and she choked out a cry, spasming around the cock within her until warmth flooded inside.

The pressure lifted and Rose nearly sobbed at the loss. She twisted around and reached out, grasping nothing but darkness.

She was alone.

#MonstrousMay #monster lemon #monsters #exophilia fiction #exophilia fic #original fiction #original characters #snippet

[running-with-kn1ves]

cw: borderline nsfw, werewolf tings, tit sucking

Im thinking... sinfully perverted thoughts. Sucking on your werewolf boyfriend's big ol' tits. It started out simple-- he was just a moving pillow, chest so soft and pliable with a curved body that could practically envelop you with its warmth and softness.

When you laid on him at the end of each tough day, buried your face in between his pecks to avoid the sun's wrath in the morning, watching him stroll around with bedhead and no shirt as a tooth brush hangs from his mouth-- they all lead up to your depraved obsession. You joked with him at first, grabbing his chest from behind and using him as a stressball, saying you'd have to start buying bras for him to cover those D-cups. But a heavy makeout session can make you do things without a forethought.

Such as, leaving a trail of love bites below his collar bone, hickieing below his right nipple, latching on as if it was the most natural continuation. A slight "ah-" leaves his bitten lips. But you continue like nothing, letting him put a clawed hand against the back of your head, trying to pull you back to his lips. It was his fault for being fresh out the shower, shirtless and wet hair calling you to run your hands through. You had kissed your way up to his other peck before you were dragged into a mouth of sharp, throat-cutting teeth.

"Such a weirdo," he mumbled, massaging the hickie you left on his sensitive bud. But it wasn't long before you found you way back to the untouched left peck, straddling his waist after a dry hump session he initiated into you from below. It was only a few more weeks until rut season, you were treading dangerous waters getting him worked up like this with no release.

But like an addict you ran to his free nipple, ignoring the werewolf's desperate attempts to shimmy off his sweatpants. The once wet strands sticking to his forehead from the shower, now sheened with sweat. Tongue circling, small rubs just below his belly button, you were creating a mess of drool and embarrassment below you.

"Why you keep doin' that.. feels weird.." He gruffs, almost bucking into your palm when your hand reaches his upper thigh. "Can't you suck a little lower." He laughs with a short palming of his crotch, wishing the stiffness below his lazy cotton sweatpants was what you were obsessed with keeping your mouth on.

But your boyfriend realizes you won't let up, not when his tanned, enlargened chest muscle popped in your mouth like a sweet treat. Shiny eyes looking up at him with mischief, watching him pant with an open mouth and a wince everytime you pinched his free nipple. He might've not enjoyed it as much as you did, but the slowly inching fingers below grey fabric and his boxer-less hips was more than enough to make up for your teasing.

You relished in his groans, bulged biceps curling to grab a pillow to shove over his face. He practically bounced into your hand, squeaking when your teeth bit at his nipple, bite marks on the side of his breast. It was freeing, having the ability to pay him back for all the wolfy slobbering and harsh teeth sinking he did when the full moon rose. And you didn't feel bad one bit-- in fact, you should've taken up this tit obsession sooner.

#Removing the shame emotions in my brain by posting this #I said werewolf tit sucking and I MEAN it #Werewolf #lycan #monster #shapeshifter #Monsterfucker #Terato #monster fucker #monster lover #monster fucking #monster romance #kn1ves rants #knives rants #writing #exophilia #werewolf x reader #male werewolf #werewolves #werewolf smut #werewolf romance #monster boy #Monster fic #monster x human

[flowersandbigteeth]

🌶️ Spicy🌶️ Masterpost

These are all NSFW fics that are either going or finished 😈

Request Info: Please read before making a request

Key:

☣️ Dark: May contain dark themes readers may find disturbing including noncon, dubcon or violence

💝 Cozy: Gentler fics. There may be violence or yandere themes but it is light, or soft yandere

I did my best to categorize these but everything is relative. Please read the trigger warnings carefully before reading

☣️ Tentacle Monster- Chase: nsfw -- x f reader

Part One, Part Two , Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

☣️ Shadowbeast- Rafe: nsfw -- x f reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Headcanon

☣️ Wind God- Torin: nsfw -- x f reader

Part One, Part Two Part Three Part Four

☣️ Warlock- Landis: nsfw

Oneshot - this is part of a novel that I probably wont post to tumblr

☣️ Knights - Xavier, Dustin, Eli, and Marco: nsfw -- x maid f reader

Oneshot

☣️ Wolf- Ruston: nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot, Part Two, Headcanon

☣️ Hesian Alien- Nasos : nsfw-- x f reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

☣️ Hesian Alien Rancher- Kostas: nsfw -- x f reader

Request, Headcanon, Request (SFW) Request

☣️ Gargoyle Book Shop Owner- Heath: nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot, Headcanon, Part Two

💝Vampire Triplets- Church, Sin, and Angel: nsfw -- x f succubus reader

Request

☣️Catman Alien Twins- Qhen and Ceth: nsfw -- x f reader

Part One, Headcanon, Headcanon

💝Minotaur Demigod- Solomon : nsfw -- x water nymph reader

Request

💝Werebear- Hugo: nsfw -- x childhood friend f reader

Oneshot, Headcanon, Part Two, Request, Part Three

☣️ Alpha Gangster- Jude: nsfw -- x f omega reader

Oneshot

☣️ Shapeshifter- Shane: future nsfw -- x f reader

Part One

💝Night Elf- Victor: nsfw -- x f reader

Request

☣️Kelpie- Vylkas: nsfw -- x f reader

Request, Request (SFW)

☣️ Vampire- Marius: semi-nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot

💝Shadow King- Zintius: nsfw and sfw -- x f reader

Request (SFW), Part Two (NSFW)

💝Kherae Alien- Idreod: sfw & nsfw -- x reader with glasses

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four (NSFW), Part Five (NSFW), Part six, Part Seven, Part eight

First Person POV available on smashwords

💝Maeder- Rohan: nsfw -- x musician reader

Request

💝Kherae King- Argan: nsfw -- x musician reader

Oneshot

💝Dragon Knight- Severin: nsfw -- x princess reader

Oneshot, Part Two

☣️ Sarantopodarousacentaur (Half man/Half centipede) - Mitas: nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot

☣️ Drider: Ruvain: nsfw -- x f reader

Oneshot

☣️ Changeling: Clark: NSFW -- x flower nymph reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine

💝Orc- Moth: NSFW -- x f reader

Oneshot

💝Orc King- Golmad: NSFW -- x f reader with speech disability

Request Oneshot

💝Mothman- Roth: NSFW -- x f reader

Oneshot

Divider from: @saradika

Bluesky -- Carrd -- Commissions

#smut #monster smut #yandere smut #yandere male #monster x girl #monster x reader #yandere x reader #x reader #teratophillia #terato #terato tag #terato fic #exophilia #exophelia

[thetravelerwrites]

Margaret and Rourke (Part 1)

Rating: Mature  Relationships: Female Human/Male Orc  Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Lovers, Interspecies Romance, Orcs, Older Man/Younger Woman Content Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Physical Violence, Mentions of Torture, References to Sexual Assault Resulting in Pregnancy  Series:  Part 18 of Shelter Forest: The Towns  Words: 4,238

The reader's mother from Akjan's fic and her orc hubby get their own fic! After her daughter is taken away from her to be married to an orc chieftain she's never met, Margaret worries she'll never see her again. An orc arrives with news of her daughter and promises to help them reunite. Please leave feedback!

Your daughter had been gone for two months already. The count had ripped her from your arms in an instant on the day of her eighteenth birthday and gave you little to no time to say goodbye. You could only hope that she was well and being treated properly wherever she was, but you had no way to know for sure. You were anxious constantly, unaware if she was healthy or fed properly or even alive, but the idea that she could be somewhere out there, safe and happy, was the only comfort you found in your day to day life.

You were in a lot of pain at the moment. Moving around was difficult, and you struggled to complete your normal tasks. The madam had whipped you mercilessly just the day before for the unspeakable crime of passing in front of her when she was in a bad mood. She’d always been unkind to you, but since she discovered that your daughter, Catherine, was indeed the child of the Count, she had become the human embodiment of cruelty, turning the typical punishments she doled out onto you into nothing short of torture. You had no friends to turn to, since everyone in the manor knew you were the Countess’s favorite punching bag, so they would earn themselves no favors by being kind to you. Without Catherine there to lean on anymore, it was becoming harder to endure the beatings. 

As you were working, you saw David, a butler that had been hired recently. His face fell in sympathy as soon as he saw you, likely due to the bruising on your face and the split lip you were sporting. He was one of the few that treated you kindly. 

“Margaret, I’m glad I caught you,” He said. “I need your help.” 

“My help?” You asked. “I’ll do my best. What can I help with?” 

“The master has given me a task in town, but I don’t know my way around quite yet. Could you help me find the…” He consulted a piece of paper in his hand. “The Periwinkle Florist? The master is having guests later this evening and wants new flowers for the foyer and receiving room. Do you know where it is?” 

“Oh, yes, I do,” You told him. “It’s quite far, though. I’m surprised Master wants us to go so far out of the way for fresh flowers.”

“You know how the master is,” David said, rolling his eyes. “He wants what he wants.” 

Margaret laughed nervously. “Yes. Should we go now? It’ll take us at least an hour to get there and an hour back.” 

“That would be best, if we want to return before nightfall,” David agreed. “Are you ready to go as you are?” 

“Oh, I just need to grab my shawl and we can go,” You replied, taking a step toward the servants’ quarters. 

“Best be quick,” He said. “I’ll wait by the rear door.”

Nodding, you quick-stepped back to your tiny closet and grabbed your crocheted shawl, old and repaired many times. Something felt off about the room, like something was missing, but you figured it was just because Catherine was no longer there, so it felt terribly empty. 

You met David, who was carrying a large produce bag, by the back door that led out to the back of the estate, where there were the stables on one side and the tool sheds on the other. Between them was a road used exclusively by the servants into and out of the estate. The two of you set off down it, heading toward the middle ring of the city, where most of the shops were located. 

David was pleasant company, engaging you in light small talk to pass the time. He asked about your daughter, which you were only too happy to talk about, and told you about his wife and son, to whom he was sending all of his money. Hearing him fondly describe his son as a “tiny terror” made you smile. 

Finally, you arrived, but instead of entering the shop, David directed you to the back of the building. Confused, you followed him. Standing there was an orc whittling a small block of wood. He had long, single-braided dark hair and bright eyes, dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, and a rucksack was set against the wall next to him. He was more slender than most orcs you’d ever seen, though he was tall and had tight, strappy muscles on his arms. He looked up as you approached, though he paused momentarily when he saw you, staring and slack-jawed. His eyebrows drew down into a small frown briefly, gone instantly, though you weren’t sure what that was about. The sight of a man you’d never met before, a physically powerful one at that, filled you with no small amount of terror. Being alone with two men who could easily overpower you made you even less comfortable.

“Who…?” You asked, turning to David.

“Don’t be afraid, Ms. Margaret. This is an associate of mine, Rourke,” David said.

“I… I don’t… What are we doing here, David?” You asked him, becoming very worried and starting to back away.

The orc named Rourke approached the two of you slowly as if approaching a skittish animal. 

“Are you Ms. Margaret? Miss Catherine’s mother?” He asked you, and your heart jumped into your throat. Forgetting your fear momentarily, you reached out desperately to clutch his arm.

“Is she alright? Is she safe? Where is she?”  

“She’s fine,” Rourke said reassuringly. “She’s married to the chief of the Willowshield Stronghold and being given the respect she’s due as the chieftain’s wife, so you have no reason to worry. We’re here to take you to her.” 

“Take me… I…” You hesitated and looked backward in the general direction of the Count’s manor, though it wasn’t in view. “We’re leaving now?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Rourke said. “We have to move quickly. If we don’t leave now, we may not have another chance to leave without the Count knowing. I’m sure he’ll realize it sooner rather than later, but we can get a head start if we leave now.” 

Anxiety welled up in you, present at all times, but vastly more intense at the moment than normal. You’d never been outside of the city before and had no idea what to expect from the outside world, and you didn’t know these men at all nor have any reason to believe or trust them, but… your baby girl was out there. If there was any chance of seeing her again, you would have to place your trust in strangers.

“I didn’t bring my things,” You replied weakly. 

David reached into the large bag he’d brought with him and wrestled out a second smaller bag, which you recognized as your own carpet bag, where you kept your meager treasures. You had bought it ages ago when you first tried to leave the manor, but finding out you were with child had stopped you. As bad as the manor was, even though you were paid pennies, you were still paid. You were fed. There was a bed underneath you and a roof overhead. And… you didn’t know where else you could have gone, anyway. You had been there all your life.

Now… you had that chance. The chance to run. 

Looking up at the two men, tears of both fear and hope filling your eyes, and you nodded. 

“Alright.” 

The three of you managed to get out of the city wall before nightfall, but were forced to camp outside mere feet from it. The two men had set up a small but charming tent for you to use, though they themselves would be sleeping outside. As they went about setting up the camp, building the fire, and cooking an evening meal, you sat there for the first time with nothing in your hands, unsure of what to do. 

“Can I help with something?” You asked them. 

Rourke smiled at you kindly. “No, Ms. Margaret, we’ve got it well in hand. You rest your bones for a little while. We’ll take care of this.” 

Sitting still felt unnatural, but you sat and watched them bustle around. As David stirred the pot over the fire, Rourke retrieved a jar from his bags and came close. You resisted the urge to back away. 

“May I sit with you, Ms. Margaret?” He asked. When you nodded, he sat on an upturned log next to you. “This is an ointment our stronghold’s medicine woman made. It’s magic on bruises. Would you mind if I applied a little? That black eye looks nasty.”

“Oh,” You said, looking down to hide behind your hair a little. “Yes, alright.” 

“Look up for me, Ms. Margaret,” He said gently. 

Carefully, he pulled your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ears. You looked up, surprised by how close he was. This close, you could see he had the prettiest deep brown eyes, glittering like stars in the flickering firelight. They were the same color as clean tilled earth, or savory soup that nourishes the body and soul, or a warm blanket of wool that keeps out the winter chill. They reminded you of every comforting thing you’d ever experienced in your lifetime. You found yourself blushing as those thoughts filled your head, trying to put them out of mind.

“I’m surprised you have a grown child, Ms. Margaret,” Rourke said. You assumed he was attempting to make small talk. 

“Why’s that?” 

“You look far too young. How old are you, if I might ask?” 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

“Is it?” He asked, tilting his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. That’s not something orc women care about. In fact, orc women like to brag about their age. Each year they live is a year they beat death. As much as we cherish the idea of dying honorably in battle, we also really like bragging.” 

You laughed. “I’m thirty-three.” 

“So young!” He said. “You were still just a girl when Mis Catherine was born, eh?” 

Your smile faded. “Fifteen, yes.” 

He clicked his tongue. “Far too young. I’m amazed you were able to raise a babe when you were hardly more than a babe yourself.” 

“Why, how old are you?” 

“Fifty-two.” 

You pulled back to look at his face. “You're one to talk about not looking one’s age! You barely look out of your thirties! I can’t believe you’re almost twenty years older than I am.” 

He laughed. “Well, thank you for the compliment. My daughter complains that we look much more like siblings than parent and child, but I don’t know if that’s a compliment for me or self-deprecation for her.” 

“You have a daughter?” 

“Oh, yes,” Rourke said. “Just about the same age as Miss Catherine, in fact. She’s my pride and joy. Lost her mother when she was young, so it’s just been me and her ever since then.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s alright, Ms. Margaret. It was long ago now.” 

“Still. You have my sincerest sympathies.” 

“I appreciate it. This is pretty bad, by the way,” Rourke said, wincing in sympathy as he applied the ointment to your eye. “What happened?” 

“Oh, I…” You looked down and away, careful not to tilt your head out of his reach. “I… it… just happened.” 

He paused momentarily before continuing, regarding you soberly. 

“Does it ‘just happen’ often?” He asked softly.

“I… I’m a poor worker,” You said quietly. “I’m too slow and lazy, so… I require more… correction than the others do.”

He spread a little of the ointment on the split in your lip, his touch feather soft, before he sat back and gazed at you.

“I can’t claim you know you or your work ethic, Ms. Margaret,” He said. “But no one deserves this kind of punishment. That I do know.” 

You looked down and didn’t respond. 

Rourke sighed. “Do you know how to ride a horse?” 

You looked back up at him. “No.” 

“I thought so. We brought two horses with us, two of the fastest in the stronghold, but it seems like you’ll have to ride with one of us. Is that alright?” 

You nodded. “That’s fine. I just want to get back to my baby.” 

“She’s a lucky lady, to have a mother like you,” Rourke said with a smile. “She’ll be happy to see you. It’ll be a nice surprise.” 

“She doesn’t know I’m coming?” You asked. 

Rourke shook his head, his long ears waggling. “The Count tried to make Chief Akjan believe that Miss Catherine was a legitimate daughter of his, but Chief Akjan had a feeling there was more to the story than he was told, so he had us do some investigating.” He motioned at David. “David realized the true story from listening to the manor’s gossip. After observing you and sending word back, Akjan sent me to retrieve David and see if you were willing to make the journey with us. Although…” He glanced at your face again and sighed. “Seeing how bad things are, I shouldn’t have delayed so long. I should have been here sooner. I apologize for that.” Rourke took a bowl from David and handed it to you. “Here. David’s not a great cook, but it’ll be better than twigs, certainly.” 

“I cook better than you, you lout!” David said indignantly.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure it’s fine.” 

Well, he hadn’t been lying: the meal was a little rough, basically just jerky boiled in water, but it was filling enough and made you feel warm inside. 

“We should sleep early,” Rourke said, holding his hand out to help you stand. “We’ll be getting up before dawn to go pick up the horses and start toward the stronghold.” 

“You didn’t have to put up a tent for me, I can sleep on the ground,” You told him, looking inside. It was just a bedroll on top of a riding blanket, but it looked charming and comfortable. 

“Nonsense!” Rourke said. “I’d never made a lady sleep on the cold, hard ground! No, no, you get in there and get comfy, I’ll be right outside keeping watch. Get yourself some rest, Ms. Margaret. Goodnight.” 

Ducking into the tent, you laid your tired body down on the bed and covered yourself, the aches in your body intensifying as you tried to relax. Once he saw that you were in the bed and down for the night, Rourke stationed himself at the mouth of the tent, his back to you, having a muted conversation with David that you couldn’t make sense of. Despite being outside of the city walls for the first time in your life and headed toward an uncertain future, seeing Rourke’s back blocking out the dangers of the world made you feel a strange sense of security. Almost immediately, you fell asleep. 

They managed to make a trip that would normally take two weeks in a mere five days. They rode pretty hard for the first few days, though Margaret needed several breaks throughout the days in order to recover, since horse riding when you weren’t used to it could be quite punishing on the body. She was eternally grateful for that bruise ointment, which Rourke had gifted her.

Margaret rode with Rourke for most of the trip, since his horse was larger, but being in close proximity with men made her wildly uncomfortable. She simply had to swallow down her discomfort to make it to the end. 

For Catherine, She kept telling herself. I can do it for Catherine.

They eventually arrived in a town bustling with activity. It wasn’t anywhere close to being as busy as the city, but it was more lively and less noisy. Riding straight up the middle lane, they reached a tall wall made of wooden pikes and a large gate with sentries patrolling the top. 

“Here we are,” Rouke said. “Welcome to the Willowshield stronghold.” 

“Catherine is inside?” You asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rourke replied. “She’s just inside.” 

Hope and expectation welled up in your chest. “She’s just inside,” You repeated softly. 

Rourke chuckled a little, his breath stirring your hair. “Not long now.”

The doors of the gate opened slowly, and the interior of the stronghold revealed itself. There were cottages dotting the landscape, with two long bunkhouses to the left and right, a large building at the top of the hill, and in the very center right beyond the gates, a longhouse that seemed to serve as a town hall. The stronghold was just as bustling as the town outside, and despite being a closed community, it was far more inviting than any place you’d been yet. 

“We must report in to Chief Akjan,” Rourke said as he jumped down from the horse. He reached up to help you down, and then handed off the reins of the horse to a waiting horseboy. You were surprised that orcs had horseboys. “But you’ll be able to see your little girl right after.” 

You nodded and allowed Rourke to lead you into the longhouse. There, a large orc sat in the chair in the center of the room at the end of the fire trench. He wore a leather kilt, furs on his shoulders, and various leather straps. He was talking to David, who walked right up to an orc woman with a baby on her hip and gave her a long, deep kiss. You blushed.  

“Chief Akjan,” Rourke said. “She’s here.” 

“Ah, good,” Chief Akjan said, standing up and towering over you. Where Rourke was tall and lean as a whip, Chief Akjan was broad and massively muscled. “Are you Margaret?” 

You tried to answer, but your voice came out as a squeak. Clearing your throat, you replied, “Yes, I am.” 

Chief Akjan nodded. “Good. I’m glad you’re here. Catherine will be happy to see you.” 

“If you’ll pardon me, Sir,” You asked him shyly. “You’re the one married to Catherine, aren’t you?” 

Chief Akjan shrugged. “Yes and no,” He replied. “We have a contract, but it can be revoked at any moment. She’s under no obligation to stay with me, nor am I beholden to her. We may part ways as friends whenever we wish.” 

Your head rocked back in surprise; you’d never heard of an arrangement like that before. 

“Is she well?” 

“Better than she was at the Count’s estate, I’d wager,” He said, snorting, but upon seeing your anxious face, he answered more seriously. “She’s just fine, ma’am. We’ve been taking good care of her, I swear to you. Shall I fetch her for you?” 

“Oh, please do,” You begged. “I’m so anxious to see her.” 

“I’ll return shortly, then. Wait here.” 

Chief Akjan turned and exited through a side door, and you rung your hands in anticipation, resisting the urge to bounce on your heels like a child. 

“Excited?” Rourke asked, smiling. 

“I just want to be sure she’s alright,” You said. “I can endure anything if my child is happy.” 

Rourke’s smile widened in a fond way. “You’re a good mama.” 

You blushed and looked away. 

“Hopefully, you won’t have to endure anything from now on,” Rourke said, pointing. “Look alive.” 

“Mother!” 

You spun on your heel, elated. Catherine was standing there, looking healthier and brighter than you had ever seen her, wearing simple but well-made clothing, and every ounce of anxiety in your body evaporated. 

“My baby!” You exclaimed, running forward to throw your arms around her. “Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry!” 

She clutched you, quietly crying into your hair. Oh, you had missed her so.

“It’s alright, Mother. Are you alright?” She asked, pulling back to look at the fading bruises on your face. They were almost gone, but the presence of them surely made Catherine feel worried. You could see it on her face.

“I’m fine, honey, I’m just fine,” You insisted. “David and Rourke have been taking good care of me.”

She released you and looked at the men you had pointed to. “They have? What do you mean? How did you get here?”

“I sent them to collect her,” Akjan said, stepping forward. “I had a feeling there was more to the story that you and the Count hadn't told me, so I sent David to do some reconnaissance. It didn’t take long for the full story to reveal itself, so I sent Rourke to retrieve her. Problem solved.”

Catherine’s face showed worry, relief, and a little bit of disappointment. “Thank you, Akjan. I will be in your debt for as long as I live. Are you going to send us to Willowridge?”

He shook his head grimly, crossing his arms. “No. We know that the Count must be aware that your mother has disappeared by now and may have guessed the stronghold’s involvement. Our intelligence suggests he’s gathering soldiers to march on Willowshield to either get his horse deal or take you and your mother back. It’ll be safer for you and your mother to stay within the walls of the stronghold.”

Catherine’s hand went to her mouth in shock. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize the Count would cause this much trouble for you.”

Akjan shrugged, as though an invasion by a noble was no cause for concern.

“We’ve been attacked for far less. Don’t worry, it won’t be an issue.” He addressed you directly. “Welcome to Willowshield, madam.”

You bowed your head and nodded shyly. “Thank you very much, Chief Akjan.”

"Rourke, have the girls show Ms. Margaret to the bunkhouse."

Rourke nodded. “This way, Ms. Margaret. Miss Catherine will join you shortly. She and the Chief need to have a heart to heart.” He began guiding you toward the back door and outside.

“Is she in trouble?” You asked fretfully, allowing yourself to be led.

“Not at all! Just some husband and wife business, that’s all. Never you worry.” 

You weren’t sure about that, but you had no choice but to believe him. Rourke had been positively enthusiastic since the moment you met him, upfront and honest and the picture of gentlemanly chivalry. His open and friendly nature had gotten past your inner defenses, and you’d go so far as to consider him something of a friend. David was good natured and friendly as well, but you’d never felt as close to him as you ended up feeling to Rourke. There was just something about Rourke that wouldn’t allow you to ignore him.

Rourke led you to a communal pavilion where there were several women doing fiber arts, weaving and spinning and knitting. One of them, a tall woman in trousers, stood up and came close. 

“Ms. Margaret, this is Erin, Chief Akjan’s sister-in-law,” He said. “She’ll take care of you until Miss Catherine finishes up with the chief.” 

“Ah, you’re Miss Catherine’s mama!” Erin said, holding out her hand. “So good to meet you! We’ve been waiting for you.” 

You took her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Erin.” 

“Oh, she’s just like Miss Catherine,” Erin said. “Shy and sweet. They’ll love you around here.” 

“Hey!” Rourke said in a warning tone. Erin raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t respond. Clearing his throat, Rourke turned to you. “I have to give a debrief to the chief and report to my superior now. If you should ever need me for anything, my normal job is as a gate guard, so if you go down to the gate and ask for me, I’ll be at your disposal. Any time. Alright?” 

You nodded. “Alright.” 

He seemed reluctant to leave, but he started walking backwards. 

“Until then.” 

You smiled. “Until then.” 

With a bright parting grin, he turned and trotted off, his long braid swinging back and forth. 

“My goodness,” Erin said. “You and Miss Catherine certainly have a way about you, don’t you?” 

You tilted your head in confusion. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” 

Erin shook her head and laughed. “It’s nothing. Let’s get you set up with a bunk. Things are about to get… busy soon.” 

The way she phrased that made you feel a little tense, but she pulled you forward to meet the other women in the group, all of whom were welcoming and kind. Erin took you up to the bunkhouse, where you claimed two beds, one for you and one for Catherine. Erin informed you that, now that you had arrived and the Count had nothing to hold over her, Chief Akjan and Catherine no longer needed to keep up appearances and the marriage would be dissolved. Worried, you asked if that meant that she’d be kicked out, but Erin assured you that wasn’t the case. 

“The chief wouldn’t do that,” Erin said. She leaned in and whispered, “Between you and me, Akjan likes her too much to send her away. My prediction is that they won’t be apart for long.” 

“Oh,” You said, surprised. 

Erin laughed. “Come on, she’d be done with the chief now, let’s collect her and catch up. I’m sure she’s dying to tell you everything.” 

Allowing yourself to be dragged back to the pavilion, you saw Catherine standing there, looking around for you, and smiled. For the first time in your life, you felt like you were right where you were meant to be.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Orc #Older Couple Fic #Interspecies Romance #Older couple Romance

[6lostgirl6]

Promiscuous E.T.

Pairing: Male!Yautja x G/n!Reader

Summary: Since you both were completely different species, you wanted to show your yautja boyfriend one of Earth's finest creations. Just Dance.

TW: cute moments, yautja rage quit, hint of sex towards the end.

Based on this post!!

"Come on," you muttered, fiddling with your old Wii console that was once sitting in your closet collecting dust. Now, it was getting set up to your living room television. "Stupid thing."

For a while, since the beginning of your relationship with your alien lover, you have tasked yourself with showing him things from your world. It started off with the basics, including food, fashion trends, music, and much more. Now, you wanted to show him a small piece of your childhood.

Your yautja watched silently as you fiddled with the old Wii station. He didn't understand your urge to show him these strange things from your planet. However, he thought you were very cute when your Ooman eyes would light up and your smile would brighten when you showed him things. Therefore, he indulged your little antics.

"And what is this contraption, little blade?" He asked in his language with various clicks, which made you pause.

The crackle of the translator embedded under the skin behind your ear took a second to translate, his clicks turning into words in a mere second.

You smiled and turned towards him, "I wanted to show you a game that's very popular on my planet!" You continued to fiddle with it for a few more seconds before the screen finally lit up. "Sweet!"

Before he could continue asking more questions, you quickly headed towards him, holding something similar to a remote in your hand.

"This is a Wii remote," you handed the pink device into his awaiting claws, his hand practically dwarfing the remote as he stared down at it. "You use it so the console can monitor your movements!"

He let out a few curious clicks as he played with the remote in his hand, similarly how you would wield a knife which almost made you giggle. The device was shaped like a thick stick that was decorated pink. He also noticed that it was covered in some rubber sheath with a dangling string.

"How do I wield this?" He asked, patiently allowing you a moment for the translator to help you understand. He stared down at you, silently admiring how small you were compared to him, especially in the nest.

Oblivious, you started explaining the device. "Okay, well, you'll hold this and follow the movements on the screen, basically copy them. The remote will monitor and track on how well you're doing!" You took the remote and pulled out the string as he listened.

"This goes around your wrist and can be adjusted! This makes sure you don't accidentally throw it or drop it." You finished, carefully strapping the fabric around his wrist.

As you were doing that, your yautja continued to admire you. Using his other hand, he played with your hair, careful not to accidentally hurt you with his claws. He loved how smart you were, teaching him something new practically every day. He let out some affectionate purrs the more he thought about it.

He was proud to have such a worthy mate.

Your cheeks flushed a little, smiling up at him which he returned in his own way. His upper mandibles moving to resemble something similar to a smile. "All done, big boy." You teased, pulling away to grab your own remote.

Going through the menu, you selected the game that you inserted a bit ago. After a few more clicks, the song list appeared and you were already searching through some of the songs available.

"Anything that you wanna try?" You asked, looking up at him.

Your yautja shuffled through the songs before one captured his attention. Surprisingly, the beat was very catchy and the characters on the screen was interesting.

"Let's do this one." He said, returning your gaze for your approval.

"Okay! I'm excited for this one, so I'm glad you picked it!" You exclaimed, clicking on the song and getting into position. After a second, you had to pull miserably on your yautja to do the same.

Curse him for being so big, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Halfway through the song, you noticed that your yautja was getting a little frustrated. For the past few minutes, he's been getting a low score.

And your yautja is very competitive.

"Pauk!" He cursed, continuing to get 'ok' on his score and he was starting to get more frustrated.

"You're going great!" You tried encouraging, allowing yourself to get a few low scores purposely without him seeing. "I'm getting a few low scores too!"

However, he didn't hear you, continuing to get more frustrated and moving his arms rougher.

After a moment, something snapped and he swung his arm. In that second, he forgot how powerful he was and his superior strength. The remote flew from his hand, the wrist strap snapping as the device slammed into the screen of the television.

Leaving a large crack.

"Cjit..." He muttered, staring at the television with wide eyes and mandibles spread.

You stood there, facial expression matching his own, your own remote still in your own grasp.

"Pauk, I'm so sorry, little blade." He said, turning towards you with guilt for ruining something that could have been very expensive.

However, you could only laugh as you hunched over, hands on your knees which surprised your mate.

"I-I'm not mad, my love." You reassured, wiping a lonely tear from your face as you straightened yourself. "It was honestly funny."

"But, I broke your television, I shouldn't have lost control like that." He revoked, standing there with his arms crossed and head bowed.

You simply smiled, standing on your toes and patting his head, which made him look towards you.

"I could care less about it. I care more about you and your enjoyment." You stated, leaning in and kissing his lower mandible. He sighed and returned the affection, allowing a few of his mandibles to tickle your cheeks.

"What would I do without you, little mate?" He purred, looking down at you in adoration. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Cease to exist." You teased, biting your lip. You smirked and slowly brushed your fingers through his dreadlocks, tugging on a few. You were rewarded with a low growl.

"Why don't we do something else to let off some steam?"

Spam Liking = Blocked

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed

#yautja #yautja boyfriend #yautja mate #yautja x human #yautja fanfic #yautja x reader #predator x reader #predator 1987 #predator series #predator franchise #alien vs predator #avp #predator fanfic #predator fanfiction #yautja imagines #yautja headcanons #is it a crack fic? #exophilia #alien romance #alien x reader #g/n!reader

[brofirstblog]

Based on a viral bumble profile that went viral

You went to one of the best steak houses in your area to try the famed 'orc-wedding ribs' challenge. You finish it in record time, having been hungry, but also just because the ribs were the best things you've ever eaten! However you notice the crowd going a bit more batshit than you anticipated. You only to start connecting the dots as to why it's called the 'orc wedding ribs' when the head chef who gave you the platter at the beginning, a large orc, comes out, face in 3 darker shades of green--looking like a blushing bride/groom with two wedding bands in their large hand.

#exophilia #wholesome #orc #monster x human #monster x reader #ribs #theyll make you more ribs when youre fully married #dw #might make a fic outta this ngl #orc x reader #orc girlfriend #orc boyfriend #orc spouse

[sirsadly]

request: orc/human - human is the orc's tailor; are they upset cuz the clothing keeps getting messed up? are the appalled by the quality of their former clothing for being so shoddy? does the orc's current ensemble simply not bring out their eyes? are they distracted during a fitting for their friend who deserves nice clothes dammit and didn't expect their ripped-ness to be such a problem because it isn't with their other customers? is this fantasy or modern? -shrugs- i apparently have more thoughts than i thought but this work training is so very boring - feel free to use none of them but the overall prompt but i crave anything that doesn't discuss "the five subcategories on this slide" pls

i hope you got through that work training okay, and you enjoy this mini fic. sorry for being beyond late ;)

Where My Hand Treads 

male orc with gender neutral reader

591 words | sfw

Their thighs ate up most of the measuring tape. Their very same thigh you perfectly custom made pants for, that now stretched taut against the gulf of their muscles.

As their tailor, you were happy about their frequent patronage, but it felt like they carefully maneuvered the small shop you worked at least twice a week with an old garment at hand needing repair.

Sometimes that garment was something you made a week prior that needed mending. You wondered what their lifestyle could be like to warrant this many repairs, not that your wallet was complaining. Curiosity that is what we will call it for now, what that shapely legs do for a living.

You could excuse the ripping and loose threads, but what had you up in arms with annoyance, frustration, and maybe even anger was how his ensemble made the least amount of sense. Though he had all the pieces of a professional suit, he never seemed to put the right colours together. And when he did something of the proportions was off, or fraying at the hems hence coming to the shop.

Most importantly it hurt to see a diamond just covered in mud, his clothes never seemed to bring out his personality or the colour of his warm brown eyes. You told him as much after measuring him again for the second time this month, to make sure his clothes were not faulty on your part.

“You want to style me? But I don’t think you provide those services.” He said slowly. “Is this an exclusive offer for my frequent patronage, if so do other clients get this treatment as well.”

“You’re right we don’t. I think I’ve never offered anyone this. It’s just that you clearly need help assembling an outfit, especially if you are going to be here every day needing a garment repaired.”

His eyes wandered towards the rumbling ceiling of your small shop under the subway tracks, rubbing at the back of his head in thought. You have embarrassed him, your banter does not always read as playful as you would hope. Your ears heat in shame, in the already hot summer afternoon. Your words might not always lift a person’s confidence but you knew what you could achieve with your sewing machine and your critical eye. You knew it every time a client looked in the mirror after a fitting. 

“Please allow me, I just think you are not shining to your highest capacity. Everyone has certain colours and cuts that make them look effortlessly put together. Not everyone gets to learn that, it’s something you either gotta be passionate about or learn early on.”

Your eyes looked straight ahead to his distracted ones, trying to catch the colour change of his mood. “I would like to extend that knowledge so that you may be your brightest self. I did not mean to embarrass you…” you trailed off after his lips pulled tight. He seemed to be enduring you, that expression twin to those braving the biting wind. 

His tusks jutted out, a bit large for his face with his brown eyes, squat nose, and long curls.

You were already imagining the colours you would pull for him, neutral reds and browns for his green skin, toeing that line to bring out his complexion. He would be magnificent. This you could do, this where your hands have tread before.

“My body is in your capable hands, Tailor.” The comment did not go unnoticed, but you knew words could only go so far.

#sirsadly writings #monster romance #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster x reader #requests are open #mini fics #exophilia #monster/reader #monster/human #orc/human #orc lover #orc x reader #orc x human #request answered

[mayullla]

Title: Golden Mirror

Character(s): Mirror Demon(?) (Unnamed character/original work)

Summary: You were a princess, beautiful and lovely you weren't meant for the bloodshed of the king's seat. Cautious of when a knife would go through your chest you choose to make a deal with a mirror once forgotten in one of the many old storage rooms.

Warnings: Fem!reader, general yandere themes, violence and blood, horror elements

You hate the mirror on the wall. You hated what it has turned you into. 

You should have cast it away when you had the chance. Burn it calling it but a witch's catalyst. Yet you were too naive, too naive to its promises and words.

It gave you everything yet nothing at the same time, your dreams of becoming a queen of a nation it gave, riches, money and fame it gave but as payment, it took away your freedom.

You were a small child when you roamed the halls that were the castle's walls. You were a princess, one of many in the family. Ignored and uncared for your title was mere decoration compared to your older brothers and sisters who wished to be rulers of the kingdom.

You played often in the huge gardens when you didn't have lessons, and you roamed around the library in search of an interesting book to read. Travel along the castle in search of places you have yet seen before. One such place is a small storage room filled with antiques forgotten by everyone.

It was a treasure cove in your eyes, interested in finding a treasure or hidden gems but everything was old and rotten after years of abandonment. 

All except one.

It was an elegant mirror once covered by a rug till you took it off, clean and polish the frame was made out of gold roses and rubies so beautiful that you could only gasp at how pretty it was. “Pretty!” you said in enchantment when you heard a voice chuckling and then eyes appearing in the mirror you could only scream in fear as you ran away from it scared of something lurking behind it.

You never went back to that room after that day, too scared to come back when something dangerous hid in it. You choose to forget, choosing to be ignorant of the monster in the storage closet. After all everyone looked at you weirdly when you told them about that room, stating that there was no such room in the first place...

Time passed and you grew up to be a darling princess, bright and happy people would say yet it was far from reality. You were ignorant… Spoiled as a princess wanting love yet unable to understand how to get it.

They looked down on you.

You weren't the only one to grow, your father the king so soon, so suddenly passed away leaving the throne and crown empty.

Many tried to take the throne you were thrown into the chaos as well whether you like it or not. Targetted as a potential threat to a future your sibling wants.

You wanted to run away but most of all you wanted to survive.

It has been too long since you stumbled upon the storage door late at night. Alone you want a place of privacy for you found even your bed hard to sleep in.

The mirror was the first thing you see, the blanket that once covered the mirror was still on the floor moved away by your young self. The gold frame and mirror itself didn't even have a lick of dust despite it.

You didn't run away this time when you heard a voice greeting you in mirth. You asked what they were yet they didn't answer. But they gave you something else instead.

A deal.

They would let you become queen, and they would help you survive in this cruel castle where all your sibling want is your neck.

They will keep you safe all in exchange for your blood.

You were too desperate for all you want is to survive. All you want is to live, to see the next day for you feared death and pain.

On the floor lies a knife stained by blood as you let the blood from the long cut on your palm drench the mirror's reflection.

You didn't understand that you signed your soul to them. Bound by them forever even after death and they would never let go.

A promise it kept drenching the walls of the palace with blood and screams. The pain and anguish as you watch your siblings killed one by one, gore and pain were everywhere your ears ringing by their pain. You wanted everything to stop, you want everything to stop as you begged them to stop.

Yet all they did was coo at you softly taking gently forcing you into a corner talking as if it was obvious that you be scared. Stay here. They were only fulfilling your wish.

You can't see where they were. Their hands and body were invisible to the eyes but there was a way to see them look in the mirror and there you can't help but shiver as you make eye contact. The smile on their face, wicked and delighted still cooing at you as you watched them touch your cheeks keeping your head in place from looking away from the mirror. You didn't remember what they said, pretty little thing so frightened that they could not move.

They told you that they would bring you the throne. That they will place you on the top where no one can touch you but them, that you will be the queen of the kingdom and they would never leave your side.

You didn't want this you didn't want this at all. Yet you can't stop it, no matter how much you beg.

They told you to smile, a whisper that only you could hear for they fulfilled their contract and you are now the queen. The little touches they left in your arms felt like the wind which you let yourself believe as you passed by mirrors that littered the walls. Big and small you choose to ignore the shadow following you, near you.

When you headed to the hall where the king, your husband and the people waited. Hollow things, as death took them long ago leaving nothing but puppets for the monster to use to their amusement. Nothing in this castle truly belonged to you, and nothing in this kingdom belonged to you after all you didn't ask for anything but to save your life.

Note: This is somewhat inspired by the mirror and the evil queen in snow white hope you like it!!

#yandere imagine #tw yandere #yanderecore #monster #yandere monster #yandere scenario #yandere fic #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere writing #demon x reader #tetraphilia #yandere tetrophilia #yandere exophilia #monster yandere #yandere original work #yandere terato #monster x reader #monster lover #yandere demon

[wickedwitchofthewilds]

Day 2: Monster Under The Bed

Relationship: Elias/Judith (sort of) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1355 Tags: Blood mention, murder mention, Sexual Content, body horror, human/monster relationship

Read on AO3

Elias didn't know where the bed had come from. He left for work with nothing but a mattress on the floor and came home to an antique brass bed frame sitting in the center of his room. While he knew it didn't exist before, his brain wasn't interested in questioning the bed's existence.

He sat on the edge of the mattress, noting how much softer it was than his old one, and he kicked off his shoes to lay back onto the crisp cotton sheets. The old mattress didn't even have sheets. He had slept on a naked mattress with a singular thin blanket to keep him warm and secure at night.

The soft mattress swallowed him. Sheets drew tight around him and a heavy weight settled on top of him. Elias' eyes fluttered closed.

Sleep had nearly claimed him when the sheets shifted and a hand traveled over his waist to grip his hip.

"Do you like the bed?" a familiar voice whispered in his ear.

Elias cracked an eye open and turned to face Judith. She rested her cheek on his shoulder. Muddy brown hair hung around her face. Freckles stretched across pale skin. Her eyes, once a deep brown, were a bright yellow. She grinned, her mouth crowded with teeth. A thin red line slashed across her throat.

"You died three months ago," he grumbled.

"You had me killed three months ago," she corrected.

"It was your plan."

She pushed herself up, the sheet falling away, and she straddled his hips. Scarlet red fabric shifted and molded to her figure, taking the form of the lacy negligee she wore on their wedding night. Judith never was one to wear white and she was far from pure.

"When your wife has asinine ideas, you're supposed to talk her out of it," Judith complained. "Dying wasn't what I expected."

"What did you expect, Judith? Some peaceful euphoria as you descend into darkness?"

"That would've been nice. Also, would have been nice if you had stuck to the plan instead of listening to—"

"I can't just ignore him, Judith. He sort of owns both of us."

"Not anymore. Now it's just you because you're his super special boy who always listens to him and I was the one who threatened to pull you from the path," she sneered. "We were supposed to face the abyss together and instead you hired some twat to murder me while I slept. In this very bed. The bed I am now bound to because I wasn't prepared to perform my original ritual."

"What do you want me to say?" he asked. "Sorry?"

"I don't need an apology. I know you don't mean it." She leaned down, crossing her arms over his chest and resting her chin on top. "It took some time to make the arrangements but I wanted you to have the bed so I can torment you every time you close your eyes."

"I could get rid of it."

Judith tipped her head back and laughed, the thin line on her neck turning into a gash. "You won't."

"Why won't I?"

"Because now you have the best of both worlds. No one to interfere with your work and the woman you love in your bed." She unfurled one of her fingers, the nail sharpened to a point, and pressed it into his cheek. "Not that I'm much of a woman anymore."

"I don't know, Judith, you've always been a bit monstrous."

"Yes, well, you've always had a thing for monsters, haven't you, Elias? Looking for them is how we met. And in your case, lusting after them," she teased, gently rocking her hips until his own rose up to meet her. "Shall we go through the list?"

"Unnecessary," he mumbled, finally moving to drag his hands up her cold thighs. "How exactly do you intend to torment me?"

"I'm so glad you asked, love," she purred, gripping the hem of the negligee and pulling the fabric over her head. Tiny slits covered her body and each of them opened. Red eyes, milky white eyes, swirling purple eyes. So many eyes blinked at him. His fingers grazed the leather straps secured around her thighs. A rigid tentacle jutted out from the center of the harness. "Thought we'd start with this. You always expressed an interest."

"Pegging?" he snorted. "Hardly a torment."

She raised an eyebrow and the tentacle began to move as if it were real. Elias sucked in a breath while staring at the wriggling appendage. Viscous liquid seeped from the tentacle, dripping onto his stomach. "You were saying," she giggled, inching backward until she sat in between his thighs.

The clothes Elias had worn before climbing into the bed had disappeared. The eyes roved over his body, stopping on the hardening cock that rested against his belly. The tip of the tentacle traveled down the vein of his cock, making him jump, leaving a trail of the liquid. Judith pulled his knees apart, exposing him to the tentacle as it circled his entrance. "It took me weeks to claw my way back this world," she murmured, the tentacle pressing him open.

Elias choked on his reply.

"You could've asked them to do something other than cut my throat. Do you know how hard it was to recite an incantation while choking on blood?" She pushed her hips forward. "I bled out on a brand-new bed I had spent months saving up for. What a shame."

Elias arched his back as the tentacle sank deep inside, somehow much longer than he imagined, and stretched him. Fingers clawed at the sheets. The soft suckers dragged over his prostate and he bucked.

"Weeks I spent drifting through the dreaming dark. I was so angry at first. At you. At The Desolation. And then I begged to anything that would listen." She wrapped her hand around the root of him and he bucked against her palm. "I thought you would've been happier to see me—"

"I am," he gasped.

"I don't believe you. I don't even think you missed me."  The tentacle grew fatter at the venom in her voice and she slammed her hips into him.

The heat in his stomach spread to his thighs, burning under his skin and through his nerves. "I waited," he sobbed, his muscles clenching around the intrusion.

Her eyes wept with him, the tears forming rivers down her body, as the tension within him tightened, threatening to snap. The leather straps fell away from her but the tentacle remained undulating all on its own while Judith climbed up him.

Her lips were the same as they always were and he found he didn't mind the extra teeth as they grazed his chest, his neck, his jaw. Elias gripped his cock, finding the sopping entrance to her cunt that he knew so well and buried himself to the hilt in one swift motion. The many eyes in her skin began to roll back as she shuddered around him. Elias still broke first with a cry, spilling inside of her much more than usual as if she was draining everything out of him.

But he didn't mind. It all belonged to her anyway. He belonged to her.

"I knew you'd find your way back to me," he whispered into her hair as she rested her head on his chest, her ear pressed over his sternum. "And I will find a way to bring you back."

"I can't exist in the world as it is now, but the world can be changed." She sat up and kissed his temple. "Now wake up, Elias. We have a lot of work to do."

Sunlight slanted over his eyes and he groaned. Elias peeled the sheets away from his sweat-soaked skin and noticed the mess he had made. The mess she had made. Something on his hand glinted in the light and he raised it up.

Elias stared at the silver band around his ring finger and chuckled. "I suppose till death do us apart doesn't apply."

He swore he heard her soft laughter coming from under the bed.

#MonstrousMay #original fiction #original character #monsters #monsterfucking #monster fucking #monster wife #exophilia fiction #exophilia fic #exophilia

[demonsplendor]

18+ reader x alien - “Collector” (NSFT) Pt 2.1

Pt 2.1/3

Your alien partner has discomfort with ejaculating masses of egg-like sperm. Although you’ve figured away to alleviate most of his discomfort by piercing them, he wants to try to come while at least once. In order to develop such a means to facilitate this request, you must conduct increasingly innovative research.

CW: dysmorphia, sounding

Word count: 2.6k

pt 1 pt 2.2

+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

You’re not sure how to resolve your conflicting feelings, neither yours nor his. The most glaring issue is that everything about the experience of his orgasms disturbed him. He refused to come until he met you, where he confided in you that he actually wished that he could.

It took some time to work up to it but you developed a way to help facilitate him doing just that.

You love helping him. 

Encouraging him, coaxing him, milking him for all that he’s worth. For all that you’re worth. 

He trusted you without end but it weighed heavily on you each time you both got into the rhythm of jerking him off. You loved the process but he still felt so fundamentally alarmed by his own body that it at times felt wrong, it felt like you were inserting the rod while bucking your strapped hips for yourself alone, it felt like anyone outside looking in might see you as someone looking at a bug in a jar; engaging in this process solely for your own fascination. 

You could find ample reassurance most of the time, when he chittered his mandibles across your throat after such an escapade, whining, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

When he would praise you while inserting his fingers one at a time into you while you rubbed and rutted your slickness against his hand. As though it were a call and response—when you asked, “More,” he’d oblige with another finger to stretch you further until you could almost no longer take it, but what would cause you to melt into his hand while panting and moaning was when he would say to you, “you’re doing so good for me.” 

The outstanding conflict was that he wanted to try to come whole in an effort to collect the valuable sperms, but your initial efforts at getting more information and your preliminary experiments have all ended in absolute failure. 

He was miserable. 

You desperately want to rise to the occasion and figure out a way to do this but you wonder more and more why he wants to subject himself to it instead of the procedure that would remove the large orb-like masses. He could come freely and without any inhibition, but he insisted that he try this first. 

You didn’t want to try to prod him towards any one direction, strip him of autonomy, but you don’t know what good it is doing for either of you for him to grow into feeling animosity towards you. 

He almost managed to sit through the passing of one of the globular masses of cum so that you could see what it was like, what you were working with. You saw how the tip of his cock began to part, the thick and gelatinous green-blue membrane beginning to peek through and push against. He nearly launched his entire body away from you while making the most awful and saddening noise out of completely untethered discomfort. 

“I don’t want to do this right now.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to but you need to stay still for a little bit more.”

You grabbed the nearby rod and let it slowly puncture the sack of ooze. This bit spilled out of him, he shuddered but it was completely devoid of pleasure. Your eyes get watery while you let gravity take over and just make sure to guide it to spear the ones that remain within. 

You chance a kiss at his neck, he doesn’t shake you away but his body feels so tense. It makes your eyes glaze over more, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault, I wanted to try this.”

He sounded shaken and distant, you both felt emotionally drained and defeated but knowing that it was doubly so for him made you feel inadequate. You shouldn’t have tried this right now, not like this. 

He joylessly unloaded into the prepared container, entirely reduced down to being as procedural as clearing your throat in the shower. You thought that he would get up and bolt out of the room but he didn’t, he leaned into you so that you would hold him. 

“I don’t want to give up. Not yet.”

You desperately clutch at him; when you kiss him without trajectory, you slip along his beautifully sleek and smooth exoskeleton. 

“You’ll hate me.”

He pleasantly chitters across you, “I won’t.”

When you bubble into a cry, “But you will,” he scoops you while he rolls back. He could lean on you for some time but if he got too comfortable and lost focus, he’d end up pinning you down if not altogether crushing you. You nuzzle into the sift part of his throat but you still feel frustrated and weak. “You don’t have to comfort me… I keep hurting you.”

“No, you’re helping me.” 

It doesn’t feel like it. 

“I only want to make you feel good. Pleasured. I don’t like making you miserable.”

“Please keep trying with me. I’m sorry that you’re caught in the crossfire, but I promise that I don’t hate you. I love you! You do make me feel good! You make me feel so good, I’ve never been able to come before.” He rubs his hands along the back of your body, now he’s the one with a desperate embrace. “Just the once. I just want to be able to once, and afterwards I will consider the procedure.” 

Your hands find another pocket of tender flesh that connected his plates on his side. You massaged into it, causing him to make a pleasant, needy, noise.

“If a procedure like that exists in the first place,” you tried to navigate carefully. “Would they maybe know a way to alleviate your discomfort?”

“No… I have asked.” 

He leans in over your shoulder, your necks touching closely. He’s silent for a bit but you can feel him breathing, you can feel his throat preemptively move before he’s ready to talk. 

“The procedures are more to prevent unwanted carrying, for partners of those that are able to. To prevent uncomfortable filling, for those that cannot. Such as with human partners.”

You wished that you were filled. 

Filled so tightly to the brim you had to exercise all control that you possibly had with your pelvic muscles to not let a single part of him spill out. But you would always keep this to yourself, for his sake. 

So you set on the following weeks to figure out a way to design a method, while keeping discrete and indirect. 

There were videos online, more often featuring one prominent figure: Orion Mar. His pseudonym, but it was a name widely known. 

He was featured in many kinds of videos; ones where you could watch him take humans from behind, both vaginally and anally, stuffing them until they whined out. The camera would always be sure to pan in so that you could see whichever private bulge out, his nearly tennis ball sized sperms challenging almost everyone to stretch to their outer limits. 

The videos that were the most informational for your research, as well as the most personally titillating, were ones where he stared hard at the camera while stroking himself front on. He’d never buck, never arch, only give a bit of a chitter when the tip of his cock gave way to the large pearlescent mass.

It was purely for research but you couldn’t pull your eyes away, and at times would end up reaching down to touch yourself. Rubbing gently against your bare folds while you watch him methodically and rhythmically pump himself, slowly inserting a finger, or two, or three, desperate to get in four when you saw how far his head had to stretch to pass through the round egg-like sperm. He was silent, unmoving, but you found yourself gently crying out, rocking more and more into your hand wishing that you could go further. 

Wishing that the deposit was within you.

Wishing that it wasn’t such a discomfort for your lover, so that you may share the moment together.

Always you’d feel hot shame, your fingers beyond damp, almost pruning. The video would be over and the quiet stillness ringing loud in your ears. You weren’t at any risk of being caught, but even if you were, he would not have minded. 

Still, you cannot help the guilt you felt by fingering yourself while you conducted necessary research. 

Eventually you’re able to desensitize yourself to what a pleasure you imagine what you’re watching to be. You get the point where you watch with such clinical severity, you think about how much time had gone by that you’ve expressionlessly watched pornography and feel astounded. 

Even more shocking, you have the gall to write Orion an email. 

Dear Mr. Mar,

You begin it formally,

I apologize for this strange and tactless request. But I have to hope that surely for someone of your skill and profession, that you must get asked similarly.

My partner too is of the same race as you, but the experience of ejaculating is… tumultuous. It’s outright unbearable for him, to the point where he’d just rather not.

We have designed a way to circumvent it, but it disrupts the sperm sacks.

We are currently trying to develop a way to allow him to… well, “cum whole” so to speak. 

But to do so, I need to see the texture first hand. 

We have tried a few times and it simply is not possible. 

I write to you this letter as a plea of scientific advancement, and the pursuit of helping alleviate my partner’s pain: 

Could I please bear witness, in person, at one of your shoots?

I imagine the sets must be closed but I will do whatever safeguarding is required to be on the sidelines. 

I’m sorry again if this is just wildly too inappropriate to ask. 

Kindly, 

You cannot believe that you’ve just signed your name and sent this email. 

You’re even more surprised when you receive a reply just two days later. 

I’m fascinated by your request. 

I happen to like an audience. You may visit me at the following address.

-Orion

You lie in bed, red in the face.

Did you really get a reply?

Did he really just say that?

“What is it?”

Your  lover chitters along your shoulder when he crawls into bed, squeezing you tightly. 

“Um…”

You push him away just so that you could roll him onto his side or back and prop your arms on your chest. 

“I… messaged Orion Mar.”

“What—“

You cut him off, “He just messaged me back.”

“What?! What did you say?”

“Um… the truth. That I’m trying to study your…”

He shies away. 

You think that he does so because you’ve brought up the topic again, but that’s not entirely why. 

He laughs out loud, laughs in a way that surprises even himself. He had a good sense of humor but didn’t often laugh, it “required a surge of energy and air,” he had explained to you. 

“You messaged another one of my kind, one that is a porn star no less, to lodge a request to study him? For the sole purpose of me wanting to come?”

You couldn’t tell if he felt as incredulous as his tone led you to believe.

“Yes…”

“And now you’re telling me that he actually replied back?”

“Yes, yes… I’m sorry!”

You bury into his chest fearful that he will push you away but he doesn’t. He pulls you in closer, and laughs again.

“Wow. All of this for me. A celebrity is involved now? A sex symbol?”

Your eyes are almost glazed over, you can’t tell if he’s pleased or upset. You lift yourself up to look at him, gravity taking hold of your small tears and dragging them down. 

“Are you upset with me? I can tell him never mind, and try something else.”

He wipes away your face. 

“No, I’m not upset with you.”

He chitters his mandibles across your face. You feel so tense that you almost hiccup but you try to calm down, he is telling you that he’s not angry. You roll your face into his, feeling his strong and sharp mandibles gently graze over your skin, tissue and membrane beneath, absorbing the moisture of your tears. You press your mouth into his, something that neither of you try too often but not because it’s uncomfortable, just that it requires some focus.

He gives into you, let’s you kiss at the membrane that served as a permeable seal for his actual mouth. Although air could pass through, it allowed him to breathe under water if he so desired, but he told you that it hardly ever came up. “Vestigial anatomy,” the two of you concluded. 

He lets you press your tongue against it before doing the same except that his is able to pass through from the other side. You greedily lap at the smooth taut flesh, hungry to press into him closer, and closer, and closer. 

He pulls away before going any further, a bit winded.

You both are.

You too must catch your breath, rubbing your hands all along him as you do. 

When stillness and calm begin to return to your room, he grabs hold of your hand before coyly asking, “Are you going to sleep with him?”

It sobers you immediately. 

“No, what?! I imagine I’m just going to be, I don’t know, around on a set?”

He seemed playful moments ago but now seemed a little thoughtful and cautious. He whispers to you, hushed as though he was worried that someone would hear him, “Hmmm, but you could.” 

“What has gotten into you?” You press against him and look at him with wide eyes. You feel like you’re being told a terrible secret, something that had been

He takes your other hand and pulls it up to his face so that he can articulate his mandibles over them. 

“You’ve been tirelessly helping me. I feel like in the end, I always get mine but then I leave you high and dry.”

“No! That isn’t true!”

Your eyes burn again, you loved him and wanted to help but hearing this now made you feel like you must be doing a bad job at conveying your adoration. Or did you now start to feel confused about your own motives? Are you actually only being selfish, wanting to find a solution so that you could experience what you really wanted?

This offer in some part was just the very thing, but it made you feel sick.

You shut your eyes and shake your head but he will not break, he continues gently, “It doesn’t have to be him but maybe… someone? Another?”

You pull your body away from him entirely, choking down a sob. You flop over onto your side before bubbling out, “I want to go to sleep.”

“I’m not saying that you need to! I don’t want another either, so it isn’t as though I’m suggesting something that I want for myself. I just feel like if the opportunity presented itself for you… I really wouldn’t be upset—“ 

“Good night.” You say it firmly, you would hear no more about it. 

He sighs before rolling over onto his own side before flipping off the lamp, washing the room in darkness. 

You still don’t want to talk anymore tonight but you can’t possibly leave it at just that. You grumble out, “I love you…”

He sighs again, “I love you too. I love you so much, I’m sorry. I just… never mind. We don’t need to talk about it more today,” you feel him reach behind to touch your shoulder. You must focus with your all to not childishly shake him away but you know that he can feel how tense you are. 

He doesn’t delay too much before returning his hand to himself while telling you, “Good night.”

#Alien boyfriend #terato #exophilia #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster nsft #alien nsft #nsft fic #nsft imagine #alien x reader #Alien biology #original writing

[artsy-trash-panda]

Exophilia fic recs

Beware 18+ works below

@momolady / @momosmonsters

Some of my faves

Werewolves : Beau | Big Billy

Orcs : Ozren 1 ; 2 ; 3 | Uram | Maim | Rube 1 ; 2 ; 3 | Mr Vladik | Roald 1 ; 2 ; 3 | Rogan 1 ; 2

Others : Mask the slasher

Minotaurs : Codras 1 ; 2 ; 3 | Brifsteinn 1 ; 2 | Mac | Deo

@thetravelerwrites masterlist

Rantha | Declan | Thandur | Feera

Ravadhi | Varik

@monstersandmaw / @monstersandmawarchive masterlist one and two

Khuruz | Brenn | Kelyn | Lasza | Curran & Nil | Thur'khul |

@snowkissedmonsters masterlist

Obsidian and kitty | Úlla and Hawthorne

#Honestly I could put so much more #their works are so good it's difficult to only chose a few #orc #exophilia #favorite #minotaur #gnoll #demon #fic recs #nsft #mostly female reader #werewolf

[curseoftheundeadraven]

From Within Two Prisons

Part One

Male monster x female protagonist

NSFW

(I would really appreciate some feedback if there is anything I could improve on. Thank you!)

I am unsure how or why I descended the dungeon stairs with so little fear but descend I did. My fingertips slid effortlessly across the cool stone walls as I breathed in the scent of damp earth and moss, but it was interlaced with a more repugnant aroma. Quinn had been entrusted with guard duty and his general disdain for such assignments and penchant for falling asleep at any opportunity granted me the chance to proceed undetected. Silently, I ventured further into the depths, my senses attuned to every sound and shadow.

Peering into each cell, being careful to tread lightly, my expectations were met as all of the cells were empty. Even King Jasper, notorious for his apathy, deemed this place unfit for human habitation. Yet, it was not human life that compelled me to travel to such a place.

Eventually, I rounded a corner and encountered a cell fair larger than the others, standing alone at the end of a desolate hallway. A shiver traveled down my spine, though some part of me still thought the other maids surely were playing a joke on me, thinking me naive. Perhaps I was, or perhaps I was so incredibly lost in the exhaustive nothingness that was my life any chance at something interesting was worth looking into.

Drawing nearer, the realization dawned upon me that I had indeed stumbled upon something truly captivating. A dark blue figure perched upon a worn wooden bench within the cell gradually came into focus. The creature possessed a striking feature, impossible to ignore—a magnificent set of wings, nearly black, adorned with hues of deep blue and interwoven with scattered patches of dark purple. Yet, it surpassed any avian comparison in sheer enormity, likely almost twice my own size. It was not solely composed of blue feathers. Towards its face, a patch of grayish skin emerged, contrasting the vibrant plumage. Its feet bore imposing claws, each talon a force to be reckoned with, while its hands exhibited a semblance of human form, the feathers receding along the back of its palms.

"Bumbling humans, deluded by your self-perceived mightiness," mocked a shrill, almost metallic voice, piercing the air. Startled, I nearly leapt from my skin, a surge of fear coursing through me. I had never anticipated encountering a creature that could speak.

"I... I don't consider myself mighty," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. The creature abruptly lifted its head, granting me a glimpse of its face—a surprising mix of human and avian features. Dark feathers extended down its sharp nose, its features angular and pointed, accentuated by piercing white eyes. After a moment of silence, I somehow found the courage to inquire, albeit awkwardly, "You... can talk?"

The creature sneered, mocking my own voice with shocking accuracy though in a twisted, distorted tone. "You can talk?"

An indignant huff escaped my lips as I retorted, "There's no need to be rude," while the creature observed me, tilting its head in curiosity. "Though, I suppose I'd be rather sour if I were trapped down here..."

"Did you merely come to gawk at me?" it snapped, its voice laced with a mix of anger and frustration.

"Oh, no, absolutely not!" I hastily defended myself, feeling remorseful for my unintentional staring. "I apologize if it seemed that way…” I added sheepishly. I didn't mean to gawk...but he was truly remarkable. I had never beheld such beauty before. I could only imagine how his feathers would shine in the light...

"Why have you ventured into this place?" he demanded, his voice rough yet tinged with curiosity.

I confessed, "There's a rumor circulating about you... that the king has captured some... being of sorts." I chose my words carefully, not wanting to say anything unkind. He scoffed dismissively.

"Just what I needed," he sneered, disdain coating his words, "a swarm of bothersome humans sneaking down here to pester me." I approached his cell, raising my hands.

"I'm sorry. I didn't consider that. Would you like me to refute the rumors…so no one else disturbs you?" I offered, my gaze locked on his face, attempting to discern his reaction.

"I've had enough encounters with humans to know their words hold no weight," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom, each syllable burning through the air. I paused, contemplating his bitter response.

Then, in a delicate yet sincere tone, I asked him, "Have you ever encountered anyone named Analise?" His gaze lingered on me, his pupils contracting. I straightened my posture, nervously rubbing the inside of my palm with my thumb.

"No, I haven't. What does that have to do with anything?" he replied, curiosity mingling with the remnants of his earlier hostility. I shrugged lightly.

"It means you can't assume I'm like all the other humans," I responded, a faint smile gracing my lips. I continued, "Oh! I apologize, I never asked for your name." I awaited a response in silence, but none came. "...I can give you a nickname if you'd like."

"Nyka..." he finally uttered, the word trailing off as he muttered something about my being a nuisance.

"Nyka. I like that," I said, repeating the name softly. Then, searching for the right words, I asked, "So, what kind of creature are you?"

"What do you think?" he countered, in a tone that made it clear he expected a certain response.

"Well, many of the staff believe you might be a demon, but I know that's not the case," I replied confidently.

"And how do you know that?" he inquired.

"Demons are supposed to be terrifying, purely evil creatures. You, on the other hand, aren't like that. Though you are undoubtedly intimidating, you're not scary," I stated, nodding in affirmation. I witnessed a look of utter disbelief cross his face.

"Right," he said sarcastically, averting his gaze. Slowly, I approached his cell, my hands wrapping around the chilling steel bars, determined to prove the honesty of my statement. He turned to face me, briefly taken aback before shaking his head. Then, he stepped off the wooden bench, rising to his full, towering height. He stood before me, an immense figure nearly seven feet tall, body strong and muscular. Feathers adorned his form, leaving his chest bare, while his lower half was concealed by pants. Not that I cared about such details. He wore a scowl, anticipating my recoil, yet I remained rooted in place, my mouth agape, awestruck by his commanding presence.

"You... you're... wow, I mean... you're just incredible," I managed to babble, my cheeks flushing crimson. He lowered his face, drawing closer to mine, studying me intently. Then, as if struck by a notion, he reached toward my face, his massive hand cupping my jaw, tilting my head upward. He simply stared, his pupils dilating and contracting rapidly, while I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks. His touch evoked something within me, a magnetic pull. I yearned to run my hands along his magnificent wings.

"Not the slightest bit of fear…you are an oddity, aren't you?" he mused, his tone causing my stomach to flutter.

I didn't linger for long, fearful of irritating Nyka, and my nervousness only intensified with each passing minute. It took me a few days to find an opportunity to sneak back in. When I did, I was extra cautious, my apron filled with provisions. If a single item fell at the wrong moment, I would surely be caught. Approaching his cell, I could see Nyka immediately perking up as he caught sight of me. He stood and walked toward the bars.

"Okay, so I probably should have asked what you eat, but I brought whatever I could," I explained to a bewildered Nyka. Awkwardly, I held out my apron, offering him the food I had brought. He eyed me for a moment before reaching out to grab what I had offered, then settled on the ground. I followed suit, a wide grin on my face as I fought the urge to bounce up and down with excitement.

We sat in silence, and I allowed him to enjoy the food while I studied his figure and the mesmerizing beauty of his feathers. Occasionally, I caught myself staring a bit too much and quickly averted my gaze, nerves getting the best of me. After a while, he finished everything I had brought, and we locked eyes in silence.

Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with uncertainty, "Thank you," as if still questioning the reality of the situation.

"I figured they aren't feeding you much, but I'm not sure how often I can do this without risking punishment," I admitted.

"Are you a maid or something?" he inquired.

"...or something. I'm a servant, similar to being a maid…but not by choice," I replied quietly.

"Why?"

"To repay a debt that is not mine," I stated grimly, not wishing to delve into the details. It was a topic I preferred to avoid.

"Can't you escape?" he asked.

"I've witnessed enough failed attempts to know better. It's nearly impossible. Perhaps if I were as big as you I’d have a chance” I chuckled softly.

This routine continued for two weeks. Each day, our conversations grew more extensive, and each day, Nyka's demeanor warmed toward me. He even allowed me to touch his wings, which proved to be incredibly silky to the touch. I had developed a habit of reaching out to him whenever I could, whether it was grabbing his hand or touching his knee. At first, it startled him, but he quickly grew accustomed to my gestures.

"Do you know why they are holding you here? What their plans are?" I asked one day. His body slumped, and he hung his head.

"No, though whatever it is, my chances of survival are dubious," he mumbled grimly. A knot formed in my stomach that was nearly painful as I gripped the bars so tightly my knuckles turned white. I stared at his dejected figure, desperately grasping for any way I could help. I swore to myself then and there that I would find a way.

I hurriedly made my way down to Nyka's cell one fateful night, the darkness filling the corridors. The hour was so late that it was nearly morning.

"Nyka, I have a way to find out," I blurted out, causing his head to snap up in surprise. Though accustomed to my appearances, the urgency in my voice caught him off guard. He rose from where he sat and approached, his eyes filled with confusion.

"Find out...?" he questioned, his gaze fixed on me as I gripped the bars, standing on tiptoes to get closer.

"What they have planned for you," I explained breathlessly. He recoiled slightly, his expression shifting to a mix of disbelief and resignation. After a moment, he sighed and reached out to gently tousle my hair as sadness flickered in his eyes.

"How?" he asked, his voice tinged with dejection. I was reluctant to tell him the truth. I feared his reaction and the burden of guilt it might place upon him.

The truth was, I had a connection with one of the king's sons.

Prince Edgar, the second eldest, in his late twenties, was known for his... affectionate nature. While he wouldn't openly admit it, he had been involved with several female servants in the past that acted as his mistresses. Although this arrangement granted them better treatment, Prince Edgar was a drunk whose fondness faded fast, quickly tiring of the women.

"How?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing as his hand moved to cradle my chin, “…you don’t want to tell me…why?” He inquired in a stern voice. I froze, scrambling to find a more palatable explanation, one that would spare him from worry.

"...I fear you'll disapprove and try to dissuade me," I mumbled softly, unable to meet his gaze.

"Analise..." he growled suddenly, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I believe I can extract the information from one of the princes if I... play my cards right," I admitted before he recoiled, shock and disappointment etched on his face.

"You can't possibly—"

"No, no! Well, not if I can avoid it..." I sighed as he approached the cell once more. "He has tried to entice me into becoming one of his servants in the past. My intention is to feign consideration, suggesting we share some drinks together. Once he's suitably intoxicated, it shouldn't be difficult to extract the information I need."

"What if—"

"It will be fine, don't worry. I can handle myself," I asserted as confidently as I could muster, even as a pit formed in my stomach. I saw his mouth open, ready to argue, so in an attempt to divert his attention, I added playfully, "No need to get jealous," hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

"My jealousy is not the primary reason I find this plan utterly disdainful—"

"So you admit to being jealous?" I interjected with a small grin. When our eyes met, I knew I had successfully diverted his focus. He looked at me with a longing that intensified, drawing closer. The silence that had consumed us seemed to last eons as he seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"If I were not confined to this cell, I would ensure you never desired another human lover again," he whispered in a low voice, avoiding eye contact. My entire body flushed with heat, and my breath caught in my throat. He studied me for a bit before he reached out, gently cupping my cheek, "You would like that, wouldn't you?" he murmured seductively, causing me to tremble. Unable to form coherent words, I nodded fervently, eliciting a chuckle from him.

He drew me closer until I stood right beside the bars of his cell. Bending down, he tenderly pressed his lips to mine, his hand entangled in my hair. After a moment, he pulled away, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Wait—" I called out, gripping his wrist. He looked at me with a slight smile, his eyes full of lust.

"And here I was afraid you might recoil from me," he said, inching closer once more. This time, his hands reached out, firmly grasping my hips and pulling me flush against the cell, our faces mere inches apart.

"Never," I whispered softly.

“...Perhaps I could please you more than any human man could even from in this cell,” he teased as a hand drifted down to my rear.

As our lips reunited, the sensation momentarily eclipsing the weight of his impending fate. The world around us dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the electric connection between us. With each passing second, his kisses grew more fervent, his lips grazing mine with a mixture of tenderness and desire.

As we kissed, he nipped at my bottom lip, a gesture that sent a surge of anticipation coursing through me. The feeling of his lips and his hands roaming my body ignited an indescribable ache deep within me. It was endlessly frustrating being separated so, able to kiss and touch but never in a way that would be enough. I was unsure if anything would be enough to quell the desire burning me to the core.

I pinched my thighs together as I felt myself growing more aroused, more desperate. I had wished for so long to feel his touch and it was just as enchanting as I had imagined it to be. Sliding his hands lower still, Nyka began to pull at my skirt and without hesitation I aided him in hiking it up. The moment the chance presented itself his hand slipped into my underwear, a small, gravely moan escaping his lips as we kissed again. He ran a finger over my clit and I whimpered.

“So wet, so quickly,” he chuckled, “you’re going to have to be quiet, can you do that?” He questioned and I frantically nodded, “good girl,” he whispered as he ran his thumb over my bottom lip before leaning back in to meet me in a kiss once more. As he did so he began to draw agonizingly slow circles on my clit as I squeezed the bars that separated us.

His touch ignited trails of electricity along my skin. He was strong and possessive. His free hand roamed my body with an insatiable hunger, seeking to claim every inch of me.

I surrendered myself to the allure of his touch as I felt more alive than I knew was possible. Soft moans escaped from my lips as every inch of my being begged for more.

“It’s not enough,” I whined as he began groping my breasts and teasing my nipples. As I felt two of his fingers press against my entrance a shiver coursed through me. He pushed them in at an agonizingly slow pace, but one I was grateful for as my body had to stretch to accommodate them. I gasped as he curled his fingers inside of me before pulling out and repeating the process. Nyka groaned, rutting against the bars.

“So tight, I’ll break free just to feel your pussy stretching around my cock,” he said as he slowly pushed them all the way in. My face burned, I had never indulged such vulgar language but hearing him say it electrified me, and I wanted more.

“Nyka,” I moaned as I began to be consumed by pleasure. He cursed under his breath as he began to pick up speed.

“Do you like it when I say such things? Like how badly I want to taste you and explore every inch of you…gently and slowly, just to fuck you hard and rough, making you cum until you can’t think straight…”

The struggle to remain silent became more and more challenging as waves of pleasure surged through my body. I fought to suppress the sounds that threatened to escape my lips, but struggled. He tenderly cupped my face, his touch both comforting and commanding.

"Sweet girl," he whispered softly, his voice dripping with desire, "though I yearn to hear the sounds of your pleasure, you must contain them. Cover your mouth, tightly," he instructed, his tone gentle yet firm.

I followed his command, pressing my hand against my face, determined to obey.

In that moment, as I surrendered to his whispered instructions, I felt a kind of intimacy I could have never imagined. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto mine, silently conveying the depths of his longing.

With sudden fervor he picked up his pace, roughly fucking me with his fingers. I could hear the noises of my arousal and reached out, clinging to him in any way possible, attempting to keep myself afloat as I was flooded with such intense pleasure

I watched as Nyka rubbed his groin against the bars of his cell, desperate to get friction, to be freed and find purchase inside of me. It was completely overwhelming, my mind solely able to focus on him, how badly I needed him. He began stroking my clit and I could help but pull my hand away from my mouth.

“D-don’t stop, please d - fuck,” I whimpered as quietly as I could.

“I’d fuck you until sunrise if I could,” he stated before kissing me again. I felt tension gathering inside me as my mind started to become hazy, electricity coursing through me with increasing intensity. I covered my mouth again as I felt myself getting closer to the edge. I started erotically thrusting my hips against the bars as he continued to relentlessly finger my tight pussy. Nyka tangled his hand in my hair and pulled slightly, staring into my eyes with all consuming lust.

“Such a good girl, go on. I want to watch you cum for me,” he ordered in a sweet tone, which was my undoing. It felt as though the building electricity finally crescendoed as my eyes rolled back into my head. I pressed my lips together so tightly it nearly hurt. My mind was spinning, unraveling. Pleasure coursed through my veins as I knew he was right, I would never want a human lover again.

It took me some time to regain my footing in reality as I stood there attempting to catch my breath. But I wasn’t done, once he had licked his fingers clean I grabbed his hips once again. With one hand I slowly moved to stroke his clothed cock, looking up at him with desperate eyes. He stared back at me, nearly in awe, as he slowly moved to pull down his pants. I assisted as much as I could and though part of me was overwhelmed by its sheer size and girth another, much stronger part of me, yearned to give him the limitless

pleasure I had just experienced. I wrapped my hand around his length, which I couldn’t entirely grasp, slowly pumping up and down. I whimpered as I pulled his face towards me, kissing him greedily. It was then Nyka’s turn to try and maintain silence as he bucked into my hand, a deep moan escaping his lips.

“Someone’s eager,” he breathed out. I watched as his eyes widened when I began to dip lower, sitting down on my knees. I stared at him, how massive he was, and perhaps I would have been more hesitant had my entire essence not been consumed by my desire for him – as though it was my sole purpose. I licked the head of his shaft, tasting the precum that had begun to leak out. He groaned, gaze filled with an insatiable hunger, a testimony to his overwhelming lust.

“Perhaps you should cover your mouth,” I teased as I swirled my tongue around his head again.

“Perhaps,” he gasped out as I traced my tongue up the length of his shaft before slowly attempting to take his cock into my mouth. The stretch nearly hurt my jaw, but I was determined. His hand tangled in my hair as he rutted forward, his cock suddenly hitting the back of my throat. I moaned around his length, feeling that familiar electricity throughout my body, as my eyes met his. I silently begged him to go on, to use my mouth for his own pleasure and after some hesitation he pulled out before slowly plunging back in, hitting the back of my throat again. He began to create a rhythm, his eyes never leaving mine. I held onto the bars as saliva began to drip from my mouth.

Nyka's teeth clenched, as he fiercely battled his own desires. It was undeniable that his longing for me mirrored my own, an all-consuming force that bound us together. The touch of his hand in my hair and the feeling of his shaft on my tongue was perfect. In that moment this overwhelming passion became my purpose, my reason for being. Nyka, with his intoxicating presence, became the embodiment of my everything.

He released me momentarily, allowing me to catch my breath.

“Please,” I begged, “I want to make you feel good…I want to taste you,” I confessed.

“Everything about you makes me feel good,” he whispered, wiping some of the tears that had collected around my eyes, “I’m going to take you, some day. I’m going to fuck you as though I am dying and you are the only cure,” he promised in a low growl as he moved my head towards his cock again.

He began thrusting harder and with more speed. I did my best not to gag, not to make any noise too loud. I felt how wet I was growing once again, being used by him a sensation nearly too alluring. That feeling was not aided as he whispered sweet praises to me while he used my mouth. Eventually his thrusts became more erratic and sloppy as he held back his animalistic noises to the best of his abilities. I looked up, meeting his eyes and his grip on my hair tightened. Throwing his head back he nicked a few more times, his cum filling my mouth and gushing down my throat. Even his taste filled me with a great need for him, swallowing as he pulled out. I wiped off a small drop that had spilled onto my lips, sucking my finger clean.

As I stood he extended his hand towards my cheek, his gaze soft.

"I yearn for nothing more than to embrace you, to break free from this cruel confinement," he confessed, his voice laced with longing.

A quiet resolve swelled within me, and I responded, "I shall make it so," I promised. He looked at me with such powerful affection that it made my stomach flip. Our lips converged once more, a kiss that brimmed with tenderness. A fire had been lit within me, and I would stop at nothing to fan the flames.

#monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster lover #monster stories #monster story #monster x human #short story #monster fic #terato #exophilia

[a-lonely-dragon]

Whiteridge Chapter 1

M!Monster x F!Reader

Content Warnings: Stalking, Missing Persons

The chilling autumn air greets you in a breathtaking sweep when you open the front door, making you burrow further into your cardigan before braving the outside world fully. Soggy remnants of red leaves cling to the dark wooden planks of the porch, and as you scan the yard you find the nearby trees stripped half bare. The storm last night had been a monster, howling and raging into the early hours of the morning.

Up above, the sun is well-hidden by a blanket of gray clouds, a promise of more rain to come.

Coffee mug in hand to help stave off the chill permeating the air, you head for the mailbox while avoiding the worst of the puddles and taking a bracing sip of coffee as the wind kicks back up, whipping your loose pajama bottoms around your ankles.

The street is quiet, as always. There aren’t many neighbors to be had at the edge of town, right at the mouth of the woods. The road isn’t even paved, just loose gravel that crunches beneath your shoes. There’s only the distance rumble of a train and a single bird’s call.

In the dim morning light, out where streetlights are just a myth, the only beacons in the fog beyond your yard comes from across the street. Margot, the elderly widow, would be puttering around in her fluffy robe, radio crackling around some 80’s rock hits. She, you’d learned after moving in, was an early bird and couldn’t fathom anyone being on any other schedule.

You miss so much by sleeping in so late, she’d scolded you over hot chocolate and dominoes, you need to be out and about, enjoying every hour of your youth and making the most of it. Late nights seem to be your body’s jam, staying up past midnight and soaking in the silence. Unfortunately, life often demands you be awake during daylight hours, such as today.

The mailbox’s hinges shriek in protest as it opens. You gather the bills and junk mail in one hand then slap the mailbox closed once more.

You dance around puddles and step back up the porch, only to pause as something catches your eye. A bold burst of red that stands out in the misty gray of the morning.

There, resting on top of the rocking chair’s cushion, initially hidden from your view when you stepped outside, is a small bouquet. Even before you pick up the bundle, you’re certain it isn’t from the local florist’s shop. The flowers are unlike any you’ve seen, almost resembling miniature roses but with their pinkish hue going from stem to strange, scaly petals. The flowers droop forward like snowdrops and the tips of their petals are almost a sickly yellow. A spot of white in the center catches your eye, recognizing the pale bloom. The flower in the center is ghostly white, translucent almost, with a bell-shape that hangs its head like its companions.

A ghost pipe plant. One of your favorites. And rare, the type of plant that you couldn’t just pick up at a florist’s shop. They grew in small batches throughout the woods, foragers made medicinal teas from them typically. Your heart gives a pang.

Tying this strange show together is a simple, crudely cut strip of frayed black cloth.

Your immediate reaction, silly as it might be, is to look around once more as if the person responsible is still nearby. As if it wouldn’t be creepy and unnerving for someone to be waiting for you to spot them on this foggy morning. There’s only you, the line of trees, and the road at your back.

It’s a strange, strange gift. Was it for you? But who knew about your favorite plants other than Llewelyn? Or were they for Grandpa’s anniversary tomorrow? They were gorgeous plants, there was no arguing with that, and the unfamiliarity made them seem all the more special. A heartfelt gesture that someone must’ve gone out of their way to find such odd little blooms.

Maybe they’re from Margot, you think, but it doesn’t seem likely. Early bird or not, you couldn’t imagine her coming all the way over before dawn even broke. Besides that, the alien plants and crude cloth didn’t seem her style.

No, it had to be from someone from town. They must’ve been dropped off right at the break of dawn, right after the storm finally died, for the small plants not to be flung away by harsh winds. Which, again, is a bit weird, but perhaps they’d been shy?

Maybe they left a card?

You check beneath the rocking chair, beneath its cushion, and do a cursory sweep of the length of the porch, but you can’t find anything. With a little frown, you take the gift inside with you, setting the bouquet on the kitchen counter with the mail while you search the cabinets for a vase or cup to house the flowers for the time being.

 Finding a small glass, you set the bouquet inside and place it on the windowsill above the sink. You’d never found a ghost plant before, let alone picked one, so you aren’t sure if water will do anything for it, but against the gloomy backdrop, they give off a very gothic air. Perhaps they were for Grandpa’s grave. They’d look much at home against a tombstone.

You swallow around the lump that grows in your throat and scrub your eyes furiously. You could practically hear Grandpa snort and say, Crying over a crotchety old man? You’re a bleeding heart just like your mother!

You’d agree with him, because he was a sharp-tongued jerk for the most part. But he was also the man who took you on nature walks through the woods as a kid, gave you a room to sleep in when you’d had that massive fight with Mom junior year, and, of course, left you this house.

Tomorrow it would make a year since his death, and coincidentally, a year since the disappearance of a friend. When it rains, it truly does pour.

Sighing, you pulled away from the window and brought up your phone, typing in a description of the plants in hopes of finding out what they were and if they had some hidden meaning. You weren’t particularly big on the language of flowers, but perhaps whoever had left the mysterious bouquet was and you could suss out who’d left them by that alone.

It takes a bit of trial and error describing the plants, but you’re fairly certain the red plants are pinesap, which are as hard to find as ghost pipe. Also like ghost pipe, they feed off of nearby fungi. The term your results use is parasitic. Huh.

Am I being likened to a parasite? You slant your mouth and continue scrolling. They were pretty, in a way that was out of the norm like the ghost pipe. Lacking chlorophyll and reaching down deep into the earth to suck the nutrients off fungi. Perhaps the sender was trying to make some convoluted jab at Grandpa—he hadn’t made himself the most popular person, always more prickly than not.

It came as a surprise after his death when you’d found his house and swatch of land left in your name. If anyone were to inherit the house, you would’ve suspected his only daughter, your mother. She hadn’t been too put out by it, though, and even seemed relieved she didn’t have to deal with it. Though she expressed some concern over your decision not to sell and, instead, move in.

You can’t seriously be okay living in the house where he died, Mom had said, a familiar look of dismay on her face at how strange she found her daughter.

People die everywhere all the time, you’d replied, I’ll take a devil I know over a devil I don’t. She hadn’t found your reasoning as sound as you found it. Grandpa would’ve laughed at the joke, you were certain.

~*~*~

Your jeep rumbles through town, windshield wipers sweeping back and forth and heater on blast. The trees flash by in shades of red and gold, under a thin veil of mist. Piles of leaves have been swept to the edges of the sidewalks and became soggy mounds of future mulch. It started sprinkling shortly after you left the house, but now it was petering out once more. A cardboard cup holder sits shotgun, two to-go cups of coffee sloshing as you swing the car down the street, past the gas station and diner, the massive library and the row of similar-but-not-the-same dollar stores, into rows of small one-story houses broken up by short chainlink fences.

You turn the jeep into 414’s driveway, parking just behind a vehicle shrouded by a tarp that made it look like a crouching, hidden beast. Elaine Brust didn’t have her license, so the car sat untouched, waiting for its owner’s return.

The small yard sits before a squat blue house with a row of overgrown bushes lining the front wall. Actual spiderwebs litter the leaves and branches, as well as what appear to be remnants of toilet paper. Lifting your eyes to the roof, you see more white scraps. Last night’s storm had washed away most of it, but there are enough lingering bits and pieces that it’s clear the Brust home was a target of a tp’ing.

Your fingers graze the tarped car as you pass, and you flinch away from the cold material. The front door swings open at the second knock. Ms. Brust gives you a bruised smile and pulls you into a tight hug. “Morning, sweetheart.”

You return the greeting and give her a small squeeze before parting and take her in. She’s tall and broad like her son, but Nathan’s disappearance has weighed her down physically, her shoulders slouching, the bags under her eyes dark, and new streaks of gray cut through her thick black hair.

You can only imagine how awful it feels for her. Her only son, missing and none of the authorities lifting a finger to help.

“Llewelyn couldn’t make it,” you tell her. “She got called into work. It’s just us today.”

She tuts. “They’re going to work her to death.”

“If she doesn’t burn the place down first,” you say dryly. Your eyes catch on a snarl of toilet paper hanging from the porch fence.

Elaine sees the look on your face. “Kids getting their kicks before Halloween’s over. The storm did most of the work last night, but I’ll spray the rest with the hose later.”

“Ever think of setting up booby traps around the yard?”

She huffs a laugh before ducking back inside for a moment, remerging with a box balancing on her hip. “Only occasionally.” She waves off your attempt to help close and lock the door behind her.

Five minutes later you’re parking in the crumbling lot of the Save-N-Get, pulling into the spot right next to the pothole that’s been there since you were in school. It was a good way to guarantee nobody would try and jam their vehicle in right next to yours.

Elaine pops the trunk and divvies up the sheafs of paper with practiced ease. Both of you have your routes down, and you’ll work your ways around opposite blocks until converging back at the jeep. Afterwards you’ll head to the other side of town to put up the rest of the missing posters. Then it’s lunch at the diner.

Elaine hands you a stack of papers then closes the jeep’s trunk. “See you in thirty.” She marches off, a woman on a mission.

Making your way across the lot and towards the post office, you can’t help but stare down at the picture you’d become so familiar with over the past year. Month after month you drove to the Brust home to help Elaine put up posters and replace ones that have been destroyed or torn down.

In the photo, Nathan stares beyond the camera, likely at his mother taking the photo based on his weary but affectionate grin. Half of his shoulder-length black hair is pulled up in a style you hadn’t seen him in often but suited his face so well. The photo cuts off just below his collarbone, but you know the shirt he’s wearing in it is one of his favorites, an old Friday the 13th tee. Three days after the photo was taken, he was gone.

The first half of the trek goes uneventfully. There aren’t many people out and about in this damp chilling weather, and the ones that see you coming with a large pile of papers in your arms artfully dodge you, not meeting your eyes, which is fine by you. You hang posters without a hitch, enduring the pitying looks thrown your way.

It isn’t until you’re making your way back towards Save-N-Get that you feel a prickle on the back of your neck. Something deep in your gut tells you that someone is watching you.

As calmly as you can, you stop at the community bulletin board hanging outside the new smoothie place, its sign so shiny and new against the old brown bricks that make up the building. Bright pink LED lights line the large windows and set the surrounding area aglow. There are a few customers huddled inside around tiny tables.

Reassured by the sight of others, you flick your gaze to the side, trying to look natural and catch anyone creeping at the same time. But none of the scant folks trudging along are even looking your way.

Get it together, you’ve been reading too much horror.

The bulletin board is a smorgasbord of bright colors and advertisements for other shops and services nearby, along with random fliers about upcoming local events. A corner of the poster you’d put up last month peeks out from behind an announcement for Spaghetti Dinner at Joe’s 11/2. You lift the paper on top, meaning to return Nathan’s poster to the top layer when you freeze at the sight of it. Your features contort and you grit your teeth.

Someone had scratched out his eyes and crossed out the word “missing,” and right below that, in bright red, wrote MURDERER. Disgust and rage rise in your chest.

Growing up, you heard about a spirit that lived in the woods surrounding Whiteridge. A monster that stalked the hills, slipping through the shadows of the trees and then killed anyone stupid enough to go hiking alone. Every kid and teen who grows up here encounters the legend at one sleepover or another, dares one another to venture into the woods on moonlit nights for shits and giggles.

You’ve got no problems with legends. What’s a town without its own haunted house or Devil’s Tramping Ground? Horror came in many forms, and you loved all of them, there was no doubt about that. The gooier and stickier and gorier the better!

However, in the wake of Grandpa’s death and Nathan’s disappearance, someone had taken the legend and Frankensteined it to wear Nathan’s face. You’d known about the rumors that sprang up about why he’d vanished, but hadn’t known about the transformation of poor Nathan into the town’s own boogeyman until the girl you used to babysit, Tawny, told you about what they were saying in the halls of Whiteridge High.

Nathan Brust is still out there, they whisper around their bonfires and warm beers, waiting to kill again.

You have the sneaking suspicion that a former-classmate-turned-PE teacher might’ve encouraged those whispers.

It wasn’t the first poster you’d found like this, and you doubt it’s the last, but it still makes you want to scream every time. How could people twist both tragedies together like that?

Because they were outcasts. Because they were disliked. Because it makes for good gossip.

The sudden SNAP of a digital camera goes off from somewhere nearby. You tense and whip your head around, but the closest person is across the street, headphones on and hands jammed in their coat.

Were you hearing things? Maybe it hadn’t been a camera at all. Eyeing the nearest alley warily, you edge towards the corner of the building, pressing flat against the bricks. A quick peek reveals a couple of trashcans, nothing else. The door dings next to you and a couple leaves the smoothie place, throwing you curious looks. You quickly straighten, face flushing with heat.

You huff and turn away, storming back to rip down the defaced poster, crumple it and shove it into your jacket pocket to toss later then slap a new poster up. God, you hoped Ms. Brust didn’t find any like it.

When she’d first went to the police to report Nathan missing, they had brushed her off. He was a grown man, they explained, there was no danger to himself or others, and if there was no sign of a struggle there wasn’t really anything they could do.

Ms. Brust had taken it in her own hands after that, seeking out help on social media and plastering Nathan’s face across town. When you’d caught her doing so, on foot no less, you’d immediately offered help because you couldn’t quite believe that he’d just left, either. Why would Nathan just up and run off without a word to his mother? To you?

Because maybe, Deputy Locke told Ms. Brust once while you were in earshot, he didn’t want to be found. You’d grappled with that, wondering if it was less painful to believe he’d really skipped town than the awful alternative of him being truly lost.

A truck speeds by, kicking up a flurry of leaves in its wake and jostling the remaining posters in your arms.

Despite being raised in the same town, you didn’t cross paths with Nathan outside of the paint-chipped walls of Whiteridge High until your later teen years.

First it was at the town’s Get-N-Save, where you’d worked part-time as a cashier to start saving up for your own car senior year. Nate worked there as well, you’d come to find out, but as a stockboy. His size and strength, which singled him out in the halls, were his greatest asset in the backroom where he was constantly lifting, loading, unloading, and lugging around the carts laden with pallets.

He didn’t so much as blink, however, when he’d glance in your direction or pass by while you were buzzing around your station, so you didn’t see a reason to try and socialize either.

However, that same year, you discovered that Nate also did yardwork for your grandfather. This was the more confusing and most surprising crossing of streams. Your grandfather was often prickly, a stereotypical crotchety old man who preferred his own company to that of anyone else. Your visits were few and far between, but that summer he’d called and asked if you wanted to make a few extra bucks helping him clean out the attic. Looking to a future where you didn’t have to rely on anyone to chauffeur you around, and perhaps hoping for a bit of quality time with the old bat, you’d agreed.

Upon arriving, dropped off by Mom, you were surprised to see an unfamiliar gray car in the driveway next to grandpa’s old truck. He wasn’t known for entertaining guests, apart from maybe Margot from across the street.

You’d knocked on the door, curiosity niggling at you, greeting Grandpa with a small wave before being ushered inside with a “What took you so long? The boy’s already done half the work for you!”

Boy? He’d asked someone else to help with the attic? You wracked your brain and tried to calm your anxiety as you followed Grandpa up the stairs, trying to come up with who might be the one thumping about right above your head. Most of the people your age shared their older relatives’ opinions on Grandpa (you’d come over to clean up soggy toilet paper and eggs more than once), who would come over to work for hours in his dusty, creepy attic?

And there he was again—Nate Brust. As startled to see you as you were to see him. (You wonder to this day if Grandpa had been trying to play matchmaker.) The first hour passed in suffocating silence, the both of you like magnets with the same polarity, unable to go within so many feet of each other without feeling the need to give the other more space.

You’d been so scared to break the silence, completely unsure of what to say to the guy you hadn’t shared a single word with since grade school. You remember how you’d worried what he thought about you in that moment. If he thought you were stuck up. You knew he wasn’t popular at school, always to quiet or wore too much black or scowling.

It wasn’t until Grandpa called for lunch that the dam broke. Both of you had idled in front of the attic’s ladder, unsure of who should go first.

Grandpa plopped two sandwiches down on the dining table along with two Cokes.

“Thanks, sir,” Nate said, sandwich already halfway to his mouth. Grandpa waved off his thanks and shuffled back to the living room, the canned laughter from some gameshow echoed through the hall.

Nate had devoured his sandwich before you even finished a quarter of yours.

“I, uh, like your shirt,” you said, staring down at your sandwich like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

He’d glanced down, as if he’d forgotten what he was wearing, then said, “Thanks.”

His stomach growled. Loudly.

You eyed the other half of your sandwich before shoving it towards him.

“Hey, no,” he protested, a flush to his cheeks.

“Hey, yeah,” you said, getting up before he could shove the plate back. “I haven’t been lifting half as much as you, and you’ve been here since, like, eight. I had a big breakfast. Just take it, dude.”

He did, albeit a bit slowly, as if waiting for you to change your mind.

“So, I was thinking we can probably start bringing down all the photographs now that we’ve sorted them out, see what Grandpa wants to do with them?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

So began your tentative friendship with the social outcast, Nate Brust.

“Hey, you alright?”

You’re not proud to admit it, but you jump.

Catarina Stokes frowns down at you, eyes darting from the bundle in your arms back to your face.

“I’m fine,” you say, trying to shake off the chill that’s settled over you. You readjust your jacket. “Just thinking.”

With a weak smile, Catarina nods. She doesn’t believe you, and you don’t you either. “You’re still putting those up, huh?” Her voice is low, a hint of disbelief rings out.

You tuck Nathan’s posters closer to your chest protectively. “He’s still missing, so yeah.”

Catarina had been a grade above you in school. She’d been the girl everyone knew, the cheerleader at the top of the pyramid, always in the most pictures across the yearbook and somehow gorgeous in all of them. She’s still gorgeous, sleek black hair in a braid that hangs over her shoulder, large brown eyes ringed by long black lashes. Her sharp features have only become more attractive as she’s grown older.

“It’s kind of you,” she says, “helping Ms. Brust like this.” Poor, poor, Ms. Brust, she must think.

“If I don’t, who will?” Your husband? you add silently, scathingly.

Her face scrunches up with pity. “I hope he knows, wherever he is, how much she misses him.”

Of course she believes that Nathan skipped town. If people weren’t demonizing him one way, it was another. “You didn’t happen to see anyone sketch, did you?”

Catarina’s eyes go wide. “What?” Much like you earlier, she glances around. “No, why?”

“Nevermind, my mind’s playing tricks on me.”

“Are you really okay?” She sets a gentle hand on your shoulder, her tone sympathetic. “You look a little. . . peaky. Your grandfather—”

“I’m fine,” you repeat, pulling out of her grip. She lets her hand drop. “Thanks. I gotta finish getting these up, so—”

“Yeah. Right. Take care of yourself, okay?”

More vehicles wait in the parking lot when you finally arrive back at the jeep. It hasn’t gotten any warmer as noon creeps in, but the promise of more rain later seems to have pulled people out to run their errands now.

Elaine is on the phone, you see from a distance, picking your way across the pitted concrete. You don’t know who she’s talking to, but by the stony expression and white-knuckle drip on the phone, it’s nothing good. As soon as she sees you, she gives a curt goodbye and hangs up.

“Is everything okay?” you ask.

 She waves your concern away with a tight smile. “As it can be. Ready to head out? What do you think of us hitting the diner early, I can hear Denise’s chicken and waffles calling out my name.”

“I’ve got no objections,” you reply. Some hot comfort food was just what you needed right about now.

“Honey, I hope you know how much your help’s meant to me,” she says, after buckling her seatbelt. You turn the key, the engine grumbling to life and heat ekes out of the vents. You feel it before she says it, there’s a sense of finality in the air. “I’m not giving up hope, don’t even think that for a second, but I’ve been thinking about visiting my brother. Getting out of town for a while.”

You nod. “I understand.” And you do. How could she not want to get away from Whiteridge for even a short time? Away from the awful rumors, the familiar faces that turned away from her, her empty house and the car rotting in the driveway. “Know when you’re going?”

“In a week or so, I think.” She turns to you, as much as she can in a car, and takes your hand gently. “I’m not going to ask you to keep putting up Nate’s posters while I’m gone. We’ve plastered half the town in ‘em, they should last. . . for a few months at least.” Her voice is steady, resolute.

“Of course,” you say, because you can’t think of what else you could say.

“Tell Llewelyn I said thank you, as well. You girls have been more help than those losers in uniform by a mile.”

“We try our best.”

The skies opened up around midafternoon, preceded by plenty of rumblings and the clouds darkening so it was as if someone had thrown a shade over the town. You dropped Ms. Brust off at her house, offering to take her to the airport or bus station whenever she decided to leave.

The windshield wipers beat a steady rhythm the entire way home. Tomorrow you’d meet with Mom, head to the cemetery together. For the rest of this evening, you’d wine and dine yourself. Try to relax. Put on a horror flick or two. Yeah, that sounded great.

You have to make a mad dash for the front door, damn near slipping on the first porch step but catching yourself just in time on the railing. For the second time that day, you notice something left for you there on the front porch. It isn’t a bouquet, but an envelope taped to your front door with your scribbled across it in barely legible letters.

You peel it off the door and step inside, shutting the door behind you with your hip and throwing the lock into place. Could it be the missing note to go with your haunting bouquet?

Inside is a single Get Well Soon card, which confuses you a bit, but you suppose it could be construed as comforting someone grieving. Hopefully there’s a signature. When you flip it open, a glossy picture slips free from the card’s crease and plops to the floor facedown. You stoop down and pick it up by the edge, vacantly noting that you really need to sweep, and turn it over.

Your stomach drops and the blood turns to ice in your veins. What. . .?

It’s you. From earlier, in front of the smoothie shop, awash in pink lights, and glaring at the defaced poster of Nathan.

#dragon writes #fic #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster x reader

[mayullla]

Title: Temple's chest

Character(s): Mimic chest(?) Warnings/tags: Yandere, gn!reader, brutal death of multiple characters (some implied), horror, traps and deaths with kidnapping and trapping

If you have known what it was you would have not touched it at all, a chest in an old temple that you and your team had discovered.

You wanted to know their secrets, the temple's stories so you went with your team entering the abandoned temple. You didn't think you would lose your team one by one when traps showered them with spears and spikes. Boulders run towards them crushing the victims that stand in their way. You felt like you wanted to puke when someone you once knew was dead on the floor his waist down crushed by the weight of the boulder unable to handle it.

Another one left the world burned by fire and another told the rest of the team to leave her behind when she was bitten by a poisonous snake. A little away, a little deeper into the temple you heard a scream so familiar then silence.

You were separated from the rest when the floor crumbled taking one more and separating you from another. You and they promised you would find a way to meet each other again and leave this place alive as you head deeper into the temple.

If only you knew... when you saw a chest in the middle of the empty. Something that looked polished compared to the moss and vines-covered temple, less dust and dirt covering it and rotting slower. You shouldn't have touched it.

But it was too late when a hand, painted black claws instead of nails and bandages hanging loosely pulled you into the chest.

“I caught you~!” A voice sang, yet all you could see was darkness. You could not count how many hands clinging to your body, all playful and possessive. You didn't know where the purring was from, the amused and delighted laugh. “How cute you are my little plaything.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere short #yandere fic #yandere fanfiction #yandere original charcater #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere monster x you #yandere prompts #yandere exophilia #exophilia

[dashofmonsters]

Roommates & Renovations Pt. 4

Merman x F!Reader

"Fated mate?" you ask.

"Yes but there's no pressure for you to do anything and I don't expect anything from just telling you. I just wanted you to know, the truth," he squeezes you, his voice raw and low.

You take a deep breath and turn in his lap to face him fully. He looks terrified and scared now that he's told you what you are to him. His lips draw tight and he stills when you begin to draw lines up his body and to his face.

"We'll figure this out as we go Yen. This is new to the both of us and I don't want either of us getting hurt. Thank you for telling me about the glow, but what exactly is the difference between a mate and a fated mate?" you rub his cheek and his light flutters.

"A mate can be anyone you partner with, but a fated mate is someone that you were meant for and no one else will do," he explains, nuzzling up against you before laying you down in the nest of pillows and blankets and sheets. He kisses you slowly and softly, his hands running up and down your body as if he's addicted to how you feel.

The house rattles and shakes then and you automatically wrap yourself around Yen. He holds you tight and whispers words of comfort to you as you tremble against him. You feel his magic as he presses his lips to your cheek and ear. His fingertips caress your back, warm and soft and reassuring. "The storm will pass," he kisses your brow.

You fade to sleep at his continuous touching and whispers and what you swear was him singing. The song was beautiful and dark, his voice low and like velvet as he sang against the crook of your neck. His magic encasing you, holding you until something latched on and refused to let go.

It smells like summer, fresh and clean. You hold onto it as you lay in his arms, dreaming like you did when you were with your godmother. You're underwater but you can breathe and Yen's with you.

Holding.

Touching.

Kissing.

You hear him, feel him and allow yourself to drown in this dream of pure delight.

~~~~~~~

When you wake up it's the middle of the night and all the lights are off. You're curled up in your nest of pillows and blankets in the hall when you notice something glowing. You call out for Yen but he's not there, he probably had to go back in the water you think. You rub your eyes and once the sleep had been erased did you realize where that glow was coming from.

You.

Every spot that he kissed, licked, or bit was now glowing in various colors of pale greens and blues. You twist out of the blanket you're in and go to try and wash them off but nothing helps. You quickly stomp to your room to grab some clothes but you realize as soon as you flip the light on that you have to be very careful. The window in your room shattered and glass, leaves and twigs are now strewn across your floor.

Tiptoeing to your nearest pair of untouched shoes, you slide them on and quickly pull some clothes out of your drawers and closet. Silently you assess and start putting a price on all the damage and how long it'll take to clean up the glass and sticks.

"Gods I feel like this project is cursed," you grumble as you slip into a hoodie and walk out of your room.

You still have a few glowing spots visible, you note as you look in the livingroom mirror near the front hall. You have a few on your neck and a couple small ones on each ear. You hope that they're only visible at night and in the dark or else you'd burst into flames from sheer embarrassment if anyone pointed them out.

Carefully, you start towards the kitchen to grab a flashlight so you can check if everything is alright outside. Glass crunches beneath your feet and your heart nearly stops when you see a familiar figure leaning against the counters.

"Varen?" you sneer.

"Hello darling," he grins, holding up the stack of letters you had set aside to properly destroy.

"What in the ever loving fuck are you doing here?" you hiss at your ex.

He grins at you, his bright pinks eyes alight in the dark kitchen, "I told you in my letters that I'd be coming to visit you, and soon. Pity you don't ever read them."

"Ok, then let me rephrase that...Why the fuck are you here?" you take a step forward, crossing your arms as you lift your chin.

Varen's grin dies along with the light in his eyes, "I have multiple reasons why I'm here, but more importantly I'm here to warn you. Your business partner has incurred the wrath of The Queen of the Lakes."

Your heart nearly stops... Yen wasn't just any king, he was The King of Lakes. In the fae realm you lived you heard that the lakes there were ruled by one and the Queen usually lived in the largest of the thirteen that were there. Yen was there king...

"She has stated that the divorce has caused a major rift in the court and that if he has any care for his people and the surface that he'd come back lest she force her hand, again," his eyes look to the broken windows and out into the night.

It takes you a moment to realize what he means and once you do you nearly fall to the floor. Varen catches you and hauls you to the small kitchen table that had mostly gone unused and sits you down.

"This storm was her doing, wasn't it?" you look up to him and feel the blood drain from your face.

"Yes, though she'll deny it. I already have people investigating to track this back to her. If it's found that she did this and we don't hold her accountable, it could mean war. I came here to tell the both of you but I had to wait for the storm to pass in order to get through his wards. I shouldn't have expected less from a former king," he shrugs and looks towards the livingroom.

"Why are you telling me all this Varen?" you clutch your head.

"Despite how you feel about me, I have a job to do as Yen's surface agent. I never thought we'd get tangled in each other's lives again and yet here we are. You and the ex king getting along?" Varen flashes a wicked grin at you as he stalks forward.

The fact that he's Yen's agent surprises you, but the fact that he thinks he can be all friendly and flirty with you after how things ended, that shocks you the most.

You pull the sleeves of your hoodie up and tug the rim of it down from your neck to show the glowing love bites, "I think we're getting along swimmingly."

Varen stops and his wide pink eyes examine you with both awe and amusement, "Oh this just made my job much easier. Thank you darling. Now that he's with his fated mate, they won't be able to rip him back to their little water worlds. Oh and congratulations on the catch."

He looks at you smugly and you sneer at him and for some reason it brought back a memory of when things were good between you, long before he got with that drunken mistake that broke your heart. You let out a breathy laugh and he chuckles.

"I've missed you, even just your friendship," he sighs.

You know he's not lying, he can't since he's fae. It hurt so bad when you found out he cheated on you but it hurt worse when he wouldn't admit to it. It wasn't till you had packed everything up and moved to the human realm that he finally bent and told you everything. He was drunk, she was drunk, and they both were being stupid. Your friend was at the same tavern and saw it all. You'd never hurt like that again.

"You fucked up Varen, but you're immortal and young. You'll eventually forget about me and move on," you roll your eyes and resituate yourself in the chair, re-crossing your arms.

"I know darling and I will never forgive myself for what I did to you. But never, never will I forget you. I will hold everyone I might love to your standard, that being said I might be alone for the rest of my life," he smiles and as you hear him step forward you also hear him make a grunting noise.

"Well someone's awake and pissy," Varen notes as you hear a ting.

You look up and see a light blue-ish green shield over you and Varen tapping it. You turn and see Yen pulling himself out of the hatch and turning his tail to legs. Fully unashamed, he marches buck naked into the kitchen with the confidence of someone fully dressed to kill.

"Varen," he practically growls and you don't want to fully acknowledge what that's doing to you.

"Your ex highness. I see you're doing well," Varen mockingly curtsies and grins.

"Why are you here?" Yen grits.

"I already told your mate, you can ask her," he pauses and turns to you, "It was lovely seeing you again darling, please look over my letters from here on out. I promise that they won't be enchanted."

Varen grins widely and then disappears into a cloud of pink and purple smoke.

Yen who had been hovering over you while talking to Varen finally looks down at you and his harsh face grows soft. He reaches down and cups your face as he kneels right before you.

"Why was he here?" he asks you, his body glowing softly in the blackness of the kitchen.

You don't know where to start or what to say or if you should say anything. Would he blame himself for what happened? Would he leave just to make sure it won't happen again? Varen said that he has people looking into it to hold the Queen accountable.

"What did he say," he brushes a thumb against your cheek, his magic pooling under his touch is warm and reassuring.

"You were The King of the Lakes?" you ask, wanting to confirm something, anything so you might know what his reaction would be.

Yen stiffens and the hand on your cheek clenches on you a little, "I was... And I hated it."

"She sent this storm, The Queen. Varen has people who are looking into it to hold her accountable," you say flatly.

Yen inhales sharply and stands. He turns and starts marching towards his room and you hear him curse, hear things get knocked around and broken and shattered. You rush out of your seat and down the hall, dodging a suitcase and barrage of t-shirts.

When you get into his room you see shattered glass and wood and blood and Yen sitting on the long unused bed clutching his head. He's panting and cursing in that other language, his magic spiraling around him causing the air to become damp and heavy.

"Yen," you walk up to him and carefully wrap your arms around him. "This isn't your fault, but we can fix this. When Varen corners her he'll make her pay for the damages and then some. She won't get away with this."

You run your fingers through his hair, combing the locks back. Yen shudders when you lean down and kiss his forehead.

"I... I knew she might do something like this. Knew she truly resented me but I never knew to what extent. This might not be my fault but it did happen because I'm here," he grinds out, his voice hoarse.

"It happened because the Queen is being a selfish spiteful bitch who wants you back to slave over the Lakes while she parties and has her affairs. Varen will hold her accountable for this and possibly take her to court over it knowing him," you tilt his head back and make him look at you.

His eyes are still bloodshot and small cuts and nicks line the side of his face.

"I'll talk to Mr. Seth on where we need to go from here and I'll just not mention this happened because of your crazy ex. Might need to hire an extra person or two but we can still do this Yen, I've weathered through an earthquake busting up an entire strip center I helped design and build right after it opened. We can and will get through this," you smile at him before taking a seat next to him.

He sighs and leans against you, "I wish I had a smidge of that confidence that you have."

You bust out laughing at that and pinch his cheek, "Says the guy who marched into the kitchen naked and dicks out with company."

"I felt another males presence and got instantly territorial. The whole nudity thing still baffles me but I understand that you humans prefer a certain level of modesty," he admits, then nuzzles and kisses your neck. You hear a happy hum as he licks your neck up to your ear and you shiver.

Suddenly you find yourself right under him and you start to worry about the shards of glass and wood but then you look out the corner of your eye and see flecks of debris floating and slowing falling to the ground. Yen skootches you further up the bed and straddles you as he takes you all in. The whites of his eyes have become black again, painted by lust and love.

He tugs and pulls your clothes off with your help, his eyes feasting on every glowing spot his mouth has been and with a wicked grin he dips down to your clit and licks a line from there to your mouth making your back arch off the bed as you grab at the sheets.

"Interesting," he murmurs. "The glow stops once it reaches your neck... I wonder what I have to do to get it to show on your lips."

You squirm underneath him when he starts tracing the patches of light on you, his magic cold then warm, cold then warm, the teasing making you both incredibly and unbearably wet.

"If you had gotten hurt in this storm she sent, I might have very well left immediately just so I could drag her here and make her bow before you and beg for forgiveness," he growls as he bites your neck.

You yelp and grab his shoulders as he continues to nibble the sensitive skin. His fingers brush down from your hips to your soaked folds, thumbing your clit as he fingers your entrance.

"I almost just want to drag her here to bow before this town and its people and beg them for forgiveness. What should I do my light?" he licks your ear and groans when he slides a finger inside you.

You can't think of anything except how his touch makes you feel. You feel his warm and hard twin lengths against your thigh as he slides another finger into you, causing you to moan so loudly. Yen takes it as an invitation to crawl down and suck on your clit. His fingers and mouth work you till you're so tight and so close and then he stops.

He stops and removes his fingers and his wonderful mouth from you. You cry out at the sudden loss until you feel him against you. Yen stills and looks at you as he cups your face.

"Can I... can I make love to you my light?" he asks, so sweetly, so gently you almost want to cry.

You pull him down and kiss him softly, "Not mating?"

"Not yet, not unless you want that," he licks your lips and kisses you.

"Do you want to?" you look into his eyes, bright opals against the darkness.

"I would be overjoyed to, but I don't think either of us are ready for that yet. But I would like to make love to you, pleasure you, worship your body for as long as I can. Will you let me my light?" he asks then presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You nod your head and wait for him to move but instead of sliding into you, he lifts you up and tosses you over his shoulder.

"Yen!?" you yelp as he marches out of the room and down the hall and towards the hatch. Still open from when he emerged earlier Yen walks towards it with utter confidence before sliding you down against him and jumping in.

You hold your breath until his lips are on yours again. You're ready this time for the rush of water as gills form on your neck and along your ribs. You feel his legs shift to a tail, the skirt like fins tickling your legs and his magic pouring into you and doing things to your body beyond just making you able to breathe under water.

He bites your lip and holds you by your hips as you float down. You feel him nudge against you as he lays in the sands of his tank before he flips you over and smiles.

"We could have done this earlier if you didn't return my gift, my light," he hovers over you, his body a dim reddish glow and his eyes all black now.

"We're doing this now, so what does it matter?" You pull him down and wrap your legs around his hips, causing his dicks to rub up against your folds.

Yen hisses and grits his teeth, "Easy now my light, I said I want to make love to you didn't I? I can fuck you later if you're still... wanting."

Just hearing your sweet and respectful partner talk to you like this has your head spinning, but in a good way. You're the only one who gets to see him like this and just knowing that makes it somehow more exciting.

"Then make love to me," you kiss him. "Slowly, madly, and all night long if you want."

Something in Yen's face changes when you say that, his features become feral and his soft lines sharpen and then it fades to normal when he takes a deep breath.

"You shouldn't say things like that to me, not when I'm like this," he rubs his lower cock against your entrance, teasing it slowly.

You moan and wiggle your hips, begging for more but he keeps rubbing and taunting until you buck your hips.

Yen bites your neck then and slides in hard, the pain and the pleasure of both makes you tight around him.

"By the gods of the lakes and oceans, my light you feel divine," he shudders as he remains still inside you to get you used to his length.

His lips find yours as he slowly begins to thrust, his other cock rubbing your clit in tandem. A tightness quickly builds in you, coiling lower and lower as he thrusts, but his pace keeps you on the edge.

You grind against him, needing more, wanting more. Yen growls and hold your hips in place and you tighten around him just from that alone. You feel him grin against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin somehow feeling sharper than before.

His hips slam into yours harder than before, faster and faster. His cock rubs against your clit so deliciously at this pace and you can't help but to stay tight when he keeps biting you, gripping your hips so hard that it almost hurts. It feels all too much and not enough at the same time.

Yen grinds against you then, hitting that spot inside you that has you writhing against him. He bites down harder and grinds again and again till you're clawing at him and suddenly you snap.

Your legs brace around his hips, holding him still as your orgasm rips through you. His hips buck and grind and you cry out as he drags that tightness on longer, extending your pleasure. Yen's teeth then break the skin as he releases inside you, hot and painful and oh so delightful you feel like you could drown in this sensation forever.

"If..." you strain as you rub his back. "If that's your definition of making love I can't wait to see what your definition of fucking is."

Yen groans against your neck before licking the raw and bitten flesh, "Was I sufficient my light? Did it hurt?"

"Yen you were overly sufficient and very surprising? I wasn't really expecting your bedroom personality to be so... I don't know, different from your usual one?" you giggle as you lift his head and kiss his cheek.

"I try to suppress it, but you bring this wild more carnal side out of me. Does it scare you?" he asks, the opal of his eyes returning.

"Not at all, but it might be best to keep that side of you indoors. Specifically in this house. I mean what would the neighbors think if they saw you lifting me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes and hauling me off to the nearest body of water to fuck me silly?" you joke and Yen rolls his eyes then gives you a mischievous grin.

"So if I was a prince, I'd get punched. But being a king I get fucked?" he kisses your nose and you make a face at him.

"Oh you wish, no your ex highness, you're on dish duty for a month," you stick your tongue at him and he raises a brow, still smiling.

"I mean it, dishes for one month," you cross your arms.

Yen grimaces and crosses his arms, "You and Varen seemed to know each other..."

You sigh and look away, "Yes but I don't want to talk about that right now and he has nothing to do with you not telling me you were the King of the Lakes. Do you have any idea what standing the lakes have with the rest of the realm?"

"Yes and it's not very good... Alright one month of doing dishes. And until you tell me who Varen is or was to you," Yen backs away and motions at his body, "You get none of this."

He crosses his arms and gives you a look that is a mix of defiance and a plea. But you're not in the mood for games nor talking about Varen when you just had a wonderful time with Yen. Talking about him would only sour things.

"That's fair," you say flatly and feel bad at the look of hurt on Yen's face. You can't stand it so you look away.

Yen sighs and swims back down to you and wraps you in his arms till your legs were on either side of his tail.

"I won't pressure you but I-"

"Later, I'll tell you later. Just not now, not tonight," you mutter as you nuzzle up against him.

"Alright my light, later," he kisses the top of your head, gentle and warm magic making you feel all nice and tingly.

"Ah it looks like it worked," Yen states and as you back away to see what he's talking about you notice a light glow emitting from your own body.

You stare in awe at the light that pulsates and spreads through your body, stretching and absorbing the light from the love bites and kisses Yen had given you earlier.

"What did you do?" you look back up at him and he looks at you in a way that both breaks and delights your heart.

"I didn't want it to hurt, when I bit you but I had to know... wanted to see if you'd glow for me. I don't know if it means anything since as far as I know we're the first mer and human fated mate couple," he runs his hands up your body, the light glowing brighter underneath his palms.

"There haven't been other?" you can hardly believe what he says but you can't think of many mer and human couples yourself.

"If there have been we would have recorded it, unless the couples hid this knowledge for some reason," Yen answers.

"Ok... So what exactly did you do to me?" you ask.

"Nothing bad, don't look at me like that," he chuckles. "I was just able to fill your body with my magic once I released inside you and bit down hard enough to have access to your blood. You know how contact magic goes. It's always stronger with touch and intimacy."

You still weren't fully buying his explanation, "All so you can see me glow?"

"And..."

"And?"

"And a more permanent ward against others so that they won't try and flirt with you, and a tracking spell, and minor telepathy," he admits.

"And you want to keep all this on me?" you raise your brows.

He nods his head.

"Dishes for five months and laundry for three," you pinch his cheek and he groans.

"But the ward-"

"If the ward wasn't on the list it would have been seven months of dishes and five for laundry," you poke him and he squirms.

"You are very stubborn my light," he frowns but then kisses your forehead. "But fair, and kind, and understanding, and very very smart and beautiful."

Your heart thumps and the glow grows brighter. Yen smiles and hums in approval which makes you embarrassed and the light turns a shade of pale orange.

"And very cute," he smooches you silly before scooping you in his arms. "My spell is wearing off and we both need to get some good rest for tomorrow. Stay in your nest tonight and we'll start picking up the pieces around here after sunrise and breakfast."

Yen swims you up to the surface just in time and as he helps you up, he helps himself to you one last time. Opening your legs enough for him to kiss your thighs and eat you out. You cry out when he brings you over the edge and Yen looks very very smug when you glow a bright red.

"Oh shush it," you play kick his shoulder and he chuckles.

"Goodnight my light," he grabs your leg and kisses up it before pulling himself up enough and giving you a long and hard kiss.

"Goodnight Yen," you kiss him back and sigh when he pulls away, closing the hatch as he slides back down.

~~~~~~~~

It took three days to clean up the glass and debris and replace the windows. It took two more days for the internet to be restored. And it took nearly one day for Seth, the backer, to set up a massive relief program that had help in the small town within hours after launch.

The people say that the damage of this storm was worse than the prior and you have to do your best to keep everyone's hopes up. Your clients are hitting you up almost every second of the day and whenever you can you spare time, you help them clean up their homes and businesses.

Yen is leading the lake clean up, guiding people in boats and the divers to where trees and debris have settled in. He's become more confident with his job and has gained respect from those who work with him. You couldn't be more proud to call him your partner.

It takes almost two months before the town looks like it did when you and Yen got here but the progress was a lot quicker than either of you anticipated. By now most of the relief workers have left, some have decided to stay to see things through and others from towns and cities nearby frequent to help out when they can.

Neither you nor Yen have had much time to yourselves and when both of you get home you're strained and tired. To your surprise Yen actually kept up with the dishes and laundry and hasn't bothered you about Varen.

Ever so often when you both have the energy you'll cuddle up and watch a movie or two and talk about your day but nothing beyond that.

Now that things are settling back down and back to how it was before the storm you're both nervous and excited to spend more time with Yen, though you'd never show it.

"I talked to Seth about the help with the lake clean up. He said that if you're absolutely certain that those three will be able to speed up the process he doesn't mind adding them on officially," you go over some emails with him as he puts away the silverware.

"They've nearly cleared the rest of the trees, branches, and boards out, they should have been added on to the team weeks ago in my opinion. They're hard workers. Make sure Seth will pay them well," Yen turns, arms crossed as he leans against the counter.

You smile and reply to Seth's email before going to the next one. Five from your boss Don, all standard progress checks. Three spam vacation emails... And one from the Realm Alliance.

Your hand freezes on the mouse as you debate opening it. You've heard very little from Varen in regards to his investigation on the Queen so you don't know how things have gone or even if they've been resolved. The last time you received an email from the Alliance was when you were moving back to the mortal realm and had to apply for dual citizenship.

"Is everything alright my light?" Yen pauses at the sink and glides up to you.

Your breath catches when he pets your cheek, "I- I don't know. There's an email in here from the Alliance and it's just... We haven't heard from Varen in over two weeks. It's been two months since the storm Yen. I'm worried."

"What worries you? Are you worried that the Alliance is calling us in? Are you perhaps worried that war could break out? Are you worried...about Varen?" he stops his petting and you look up at him.

"All of that but Varen. I stopped caring for him and whatever the hells he does when-" you stop yourself from completing that sentence and shake yourself as if it would free you from the weight of your own past.

Yen kneels down next to you and takes your hands in his, "My light, you know I will not press it but I hope you will tell me soon how is it that you and he know each other."

"Thank you... Maybe once we get proper compensation from the Queen I'll tell you," you smile at him and sigh.

"That might take years," Yen groans as he stands.

"Maybe another month, maybe less. I might hate Varen but when he sets his mind to something he usually sees it to fruition."

Except for our relationship...

You shake your head again and take a deep breath as you gather all your courage to open the email from the Alliance.

To Whom this may concern,

Due to recent events within the Fae Realm, borders have been temporarily shut down. You must have dual citizenship or a letter of passage to cross between realms at this time. Please note that this is for the safety of all the peoples on both sides of the veil. Our embassies will be open to answer any questions you may have. For those in acclimation, citizenship, and occupational programs please refer to your agent or home provider for any additional information as packets and emails have been sent to them on this matter. We apologize for the inconvenience and will notify you once the borders have reopened. If you are a merchant or are partnered with one please contact the V.B.B. for assistance.

Thank you,

Alliance Officer Stan Fells

Three times you reread the email and each time it gets harder and harder. It's not till you lean back in your chair that you realized Yen has been rubbing your back. Tears sting the corners of your eyes and just when you feel like giving in and crying, Yen scoops you up and makes for the front door.

You're limp in his arms as he swings the door open and steps out into the humid heat of the lake town. Birds and bugs are singing of the sweltering sun in time to the beat of Yen's steps as twigs and pebbles crunch under his feet as he walks you down the driveway.

Further and further he goes, till you're both at the edge of the lake. It's a lot clearer now thanks to Yen purifying it everyday and night. The oil slicks are gone and only muck and water plants litter the visibility.

"My light, look out there for me..." Yen resituates you in his arms so you can view the lake and a few of the shops that sit close to her shore. "We have come so far and have done so much in the short time we've been here. These people nearly gave up after the Queen's storm hit. You kept it all together, everything, even me. I had my doubts too, but you've been so strong my light. Don't let this one thing defeat you."

"But they've closed the borders Yen... They-"

"For the time being. They will open again. I know you have friends and family on that side, I do too. But if we let this get to us then it's a victory for the Queen. And I'll be damned if I see you fall because of her," Yen sneers, his hold on you tightening.

You look out at the lake and then close your eyes, listening to the waves gently climb up the shore then back in. Over and over again you listen as you feel the sun on your skin. You take in the scent of summer as a light breeze brushes by and then you open your eyes once more. You had worked hard, the both of you have been. Yen with the lake and you with the people in town. You can't let this one thing get to you, not now.

Your breathing shudders, the tears spilling out of your eyes now, "I feel weak and pathetic and stupid for letting myself get worked up over... over some email...You're right Yen... we-"

You close your mouth and eyes as your body tenses when you and Yen hit the water. He had run and jumped off one of the new docks while holding you, splashing hard into the murky water. You cough and wipe the water off your face, holding onto Yen's shoulder with your free hand.

"What the hells was that for?" you pant.

Yen gently kisses your forehead, "You're not stupid or pathetic, just tired and stressed which makes things overwhelming at times..." he pauses and chuckles, "And I should know, I was in the exact same position when I started this project with you. But you've helped me so much my light, I've learned so much because of you. You've been my guiding light and my strength, let me be that for you now...if only you desire."

You lean closer and lay your head against Yen's shoulder, "I'm not used to this you know... It's... This is strange Yen. Not in a bad way, I just need time to get used to having someone in my life who understands me and..." you start choking up and Yen gathers you up in his arms.

"Let's go home, we'll watch some movies, cuddle and order something from that café we like ok? I'll even do it, I remember how to use that app for food delivery. Let's just rest today, no work, no talking about work, just relaxing," he hums with a smile and you nod.

Yen swims you up to a dock near the house and helps you up. He uses a spell to dry you off before you can start shivering. You walk up to the house and he swims up and into the tunnel. As you walk inside you hear Yen exit the hatch and grab a towel.

"I'm going to shower and change if you want to pick out a movie. My phone's in the kitchen if you want to start looking for something to order," Yen suggests but you have another idea.

"Well I need to shower now too Yen, I might be dry but I got waterweeds and sand all over me," you jokingly pout and wait.

Yen looks like he's about to apologize until he gives you a wicked smile and the whites of his eyes turn black, "You're free to join me in the shower then my light."

You follow him into the bathroom, his towel falls as he helps you out of your clothes. His lips find yours as he lifts you up and holds you to him.

"If you keep picking me up like this I'm going to forget what the ground feels like," you giggle.

He nibbles your ear and laughs low and viscously, "Is that a challenge my light? I can make it to where your feet won't even hit the floor once today."

"I'd like to see you try honestly, but after the shower. I've got sand caked all down my legs," you sigh.

Yen bends down and turns the shower on before looking back up at you, his eyes now fully black, "Challenge accepted my light."

The hot water feels good in contrast to the cold tile against your back as Yen pins you against the wall. He has your legs wrapped around his waist as he kisses your neck and washes you with your favorite soap. His fingers tease your nipples, tormentuously gentle to where your back is arching off the wall.

"You smell so good, it's a shame we're just relaxing today... Giving our poor tired bodies and minds a break. Such a pity," he growls as he bites down hard.

Your moan echoes in the bathroom as you claw and clutch his back. His magic enters your body, warm and very very relaxing. The tension in your muscles loosen and you slack your hold.

You're in and out after the bite but when you come to you're dry and naked and curled up against Yen on the couch. He's rubbing light and gentle paths along your back, his long lanky legs tangled with yours.

"What was that bite for?" you yawn.

Yen kisses the top of your head and hums, "You haven't been sleeping that well lately. And as much as I would have loved to ravish you in the shower, I thought you'd like a nice nap first."

"Next time ask Yen, though I will say the nap was nice. Did you rest too?" you look up at him, his eyes still black as night. Something hard presses against you as he shifts and he grins.

"I tried but you made it very hard to," he winks.

"Ughhh give me my sweet innocent Yen back! Who are you you bedroom demon," you groan but laugh all the same.

Yen pulls you up and kisses you silly, "You like it when I'm like this though. Now then, would you like to eat now and I fuck you after or I fuck you while we wait for the food."

You sit up and straddle his hips, "I'm not quite hungry yet..."

"Oh really? Because I'm starving," Yen bucks his hips and you shudder.

You smile and try to slip off of him only for him to flip you over and haul you up, "Where to my light?"

"Oh..." you laugh. "You were serious? Ok then, to the kitchen."

Yen tosses you over his shoulder and struts into the kitchen, setting you down on the counter before grabbing his phone. You both order something from the café, the delivery time being an hour.

"Not nearly enough time, but I think we can manage," he kneels before you, his hands playfully parting your legs. He kisses up your legs over and over, teasing you with his magic and driving you mad.

When he barely licks the tip of your clit you're so sensitive from his touches and teasing you almost slip off the counter. Yen's tongue laves at your folds, over and over, your hands finding his white waves, grabbing fistfuls as he thumbs your entrance.

"What do you want my light? Do you want my fingers or my cocks?" Yen kisses your thigh.

You don't really know what you want but he said he'd fuck you and that sounds pretty good right now.

"Just... fuck me," you pant.

Yen stands up and before you can register what's happening you find your back against the tank and Yen lowering you on one of his cocks. You cry out and wrap yourself around him as he thrusts into you, fast and harder. His magic starts pouring out, raw and deep like something forgotten that has been awakened.

His hands grip your hips as he keeps thrusting in you, the both of you moaning each other's names between kisses and bites. He begins glowing, bright red and orange and soon enough you do as well. His thrusting becomes wilder, more desperate as if provoked by the mere sight of your mutual glow.

You feel tighter and tighter until you're clawing at his back and crying out in pleasure. Yen keeps going though, grunting and moaning your name, that you're his light and love and how hard he's going to fuck you. How good he's going to keep making you feel.

"You're mine..." he moans against your mouth.

"My light..." he presses his forehead against yours.

"My fate..." his eyes close shut as he stills.

Yen holds onto you for dear life as he releases, the light of his glow fluttering till it dims with a shuddering breath.

You lightly rub his shoulders as both of you start coming down, "I thought you said an hour wasn't nearly enough?"

He chuckles and moans in your ear, "And I meant that, it'll take all day for me to have you in every which way in every room of our house."

True to his word, Yen doesn't set you down once as he takes you against the counter, the table and fridge. The last one you both have a good laugh at because you're pretty sure some things got knocked out of place by how hard he was thrusting into you.

When the food finally arrives you're well spent and sprawled on the couch and absolutely thankful for contactless delivery. Yen has to dip in his tank for a little bit so you decide to go through a few apps to see what you want to watch. You try and avoid anything fantasy and reality shows about renovating just for some peace of mind. You end up landing on something cheesy but Yen would like it for sure.

"Blades of Glory?" he asks as he pulls himself up and shakes some water off.

"It's a comedy and it's got figure skating in it," you shrug.

"I thought you hate comedies?" Yen grabs a towel and starts drying off.

"I do but... I don't know I'm the worst at picking stuff out to watch you know that," you groan.

Yen shakes his head and laughs, "Is that why we always end up watching what I want to?"

"Yes..." you grumble.

He tosses the towel over a chair and walks up to the couch and takes the remote from you, "Come on my light what kind of stuff do you like watching?"

"I don't know... musicals... action-adventure... stuff like that?" you wave your hand before slapping it down on your face.

Yen goes through a few streaming services before landing on one that does remakes of popular movies and shows but with a mixed cast of humans and the other peoples from the fae realm. You both agree on watching the remake of Mamma Mia, with the dad candidates being a werewolf, a fae, and a selkie with Sophie marrying an orc.

You and Yen get comfortable on the couch and start digging in as you watch the movie. It's good, a lot better than you thought it'd be. Sophie is played by a half elf to give the character the edge of being something else yet she doesn't know. Donna's friends are played by a halfling and a saltwater mermaid that Yen recognizes from one of the posters at the acclimation program's H.Q..

Yen is utterly enthralled by the movie and when your phone's text ringer goes off he ignores it. You think it's some spam text or something from work so you decide to glance at it. The text is from an old contact who got her dual citizenship around the same time you did. You think she's concerned about the borders being closed so you decide to open it so you can reply with something to ease her mind.

Your heart drops when you read who it's really from.

This is Varen, I'm borrowing your friend' phone. The Queen of the Lakes is being taken to High Court. The Lakes are on lock down. I was able to pull some strings and got Yen's family out before it happened. They're on your side staying at one of the lakes for guests. I have no idea how long this will take and what the outcome will be. The Queen is mad and out of her gods damn mind. I see why Yen divorced her but those people need order. The High Court is going to strip The Queen and her family of title and birthright to prevent war. Because Yen was king, he'll either have to come back till a replacement is made or recommend a new ruler. I've done my part, she will pay and be left with nothing. Talk to your mate, tell him what's going on. Contact this number when if you have any questions or need help...

The grip on your phone tightens but quickly loosens when Yen cuddles closer, "Anything important my light?"

You tense up and Yen leans his head against yours, "We can talk about it later. Let's just relax..."

"Ok," you agree and toss your phone aside. You curl up against him and wrap your arms around him.

"Just relax my light," he kisses the top of your head and turns the volume up.

<Previous Pt.3 Pt.5>

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