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flowerbetweenfangs · 2 days

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Traditions

This was posted a while ago under an old account of mine. I spruced it up and changed a few things. It features one of my most popular characters, a minotaur named Rosso. Here he and the reader discuss traditions.

CW: Pregnancy. Injury (Rosso + hammer = ow)

Metallic clanging echoed through the house when you entered. Then, it was followed by a meaty smack.

“Chronos’ Balls!” Another smack, then a thud of something hitting the carpet. “Gaea’s Tit!”

Pausing in the kitchen, you double-checked to make sure the burners were off. Whatever had been prepared was still in the pots, but it smelled good. At least you didn’t have to worry about the house burning down.

Sucking in a breath, you set down the groceries and prepared herself for what you were about to find in the second bedroom.

Hunched over the floor, was your fiancé. Rosso pulled back, sucking on his index finger. As he cradled his hand,

You took in the mess.

There were blood splatters on the floor, but he’d thankfully put down a tarp. Your eyes followed the chaos, seeing a broken screwdriver, warped hammers, splintered nails, and stripped screws. A bag of tools was spilled over the carpet, thankfully none stuck in it.

His project was a pile of scrap metal and leather. It had started to form some sort of foundation, but it wasn’t obvious where it was headed. Papers were scattered all over the outside of the tarp, spared from the mess.

Looking down, You saw the diagrams. They’d been hand-drawn. The pictures were clear enough, showing a breast and shoulder plate, with a few pieces of leather. Apparently, it would form a sort of bassinet that could be converted into a pen. There seemed to be additional instructions written in Ancient Greek, the print big enough for the Minotaur to read.

Rosso bandaged his finger, and there were several more dressings on his hand and arm.

“You know, if you wanted a crib for the baby, we could have bought one.” If they could find one big enough it. Getting one custom-made would be costly. You tried to do mental calculations, but your thoughts were interrupted by the occupant of your womb kicking.

Knees weak, you sucked in a breath and put a hand on your stomach. The movement must have pushed on your bladder because you needed to pee.

Once you came out of the bathroom, Rosso was laying on his stomach, having cleaned up the worst of the mess. His chin rested on the back of his hands as he stared at the diagrams.

“It’s tradition.” He said, frowning.

“To brutalize yourself with a hammer?” you looked at the tools, your back hurt at the thought of leaning down and picking them up.

Sighing, he looked up. “No. We break down our armor. Melt it to scrap. Tear up the leather. That way a small piece of us is there to protect the calf. Then, we get new armor so we can be a better fighter for them.” His ears flapped in irritation, tail whipping through the air. You had to sidestep to avoid it.

“I tried with the hammer and kept breaking the nails. I broke the screwdriver and stripped all the screws. And the drill’s too small for my hands.” Sitting up, he rubbed the length of his horns. Squeezing the points, he let out a long breath.

“I wanted to surprise you. But I just made a mess.” He sighed and knelt in the mess of papers and metal. “The Herd wanted to help, but…” His tail whipped again. “It’s hard enough to move around this place on my own.”

Staring at the scrap, you put a hand on top of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. His ears flapped and he let out a soft grunt of enjoyment.

“Why don’t I help? “you took the remaining nails and frowned. “Are these even long enough…?”

Holding them next to the bandages, you rolled your eyes. No wonder he kept smashing them. They were shorter than his fingers were thick. Some dents in the metal told you he’d tried to hammer without holding them.

Athena had not been his Patron Goddess.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” His eyes went to your stomach, ears drooping.

“I’m pregnant, not helpless.” Picking up the diagrams, you tried to match the pieces. “Besides, it’s my baby too.”

“Here.” You passed the papers to Rosso. “You brains. Me brawn.”

He looked at the diagrams, sucking in a breath.

“What?”

“… I was reading this upside down.”

“I keep telling you that you need glasses.” you chided.

Picking up the least broken hammer ,you begin to try and make sense of the mess.

“That puff machine… I don’t trust it.” He rested his chin on the back of his hand, picking up the heavier pieces and beginning to move them around. When you shot him a look, his ears flicked back.

“You ain’t helpless, but this is Asterian armor, baby.” He rapped his knuckles on the metal, wincing and shaking his hand. “Heavy and sturdy.”

Rosso showed you what pieces went where, and you want to work. When your hands shook trying to hold something, he’d steady it for her.

The leather was easy enough, but it would go last. Metal to metal was another thing entirely, and you had to throw your full upper body strength into the swing and pray the nail didn’t give out before the armor.

Eventually, you were able to drown out his wincing when you brought the face of the hammer down close to your hands without injury. Your palms ached, but you didn’t want to stop. The armor had been Rosso’s most prized possession. This meant more to him than you could even fathom.

One of the few things he had left from his side of the Blend. And he’d used it to make something new.

You managed to get it looking similar enough to the final picture, albeit more dented and scuffed than probably intended. The family crest was at the head of the bassinet. She’d have to buy blankets and pillows to make the thing actually comfortable for the future occupant.

Putting a hand on the side, you shook it. The structure held. Rosso mimicked her, smiling when it didn’t fall apart. If Earthshaker himself couldn’t break it, then it was safe for a baby.

It was a lot bigger than any she’d seen before. But if Rosso was anything to go by, the baby would be huge. Even at five months, many thought you were due any day. The visits to the doctor had shown a large fetus, but thankfully no horns. Possibly a tail.

The thought of four more months of this…

Sighing, you put a hand to your stomach, letting it rest there.

“Kicking again?” Rosso put his hand on the bump, ears flicking with excitement. Then, he frowned, his disappointment palpable.

“No, just thinking. “you looked at the structure. “Seeing this makes it feel more real, you know?” It was all coming so fast. The months had seemed like an eternity, but each day seemed to slip by faster and faster. It had only been six months, but the doctors said that due to the baby’s size, you would likely have to induce and possibly cut them out. you didn’t like the idea but, after a bruised rib, your body was ready to evict.

Taking your hand, Rosso bent down to kiss it. “I know he wasn’t planned, but between us and the herd, that’s going to be the most loved calf this side of the Blend.”

“So they’re a boy? “you teased.

Rosso shrugged. “Boy. Girl. Something in between, they’re gonna be the luckiest kid in the world.” He chuckled. “If they’re twins…”

She seized the front of his shirt. Despite your own strength being no match for his own, he allowed himself to be pulled so their eyes were level. He held perfectly still so his horns wouldn’t accidentally puncture her.

“If you Cassandra another baby into me, I will make what happened at the Labyrinth look like child’s play.”you released him, “It’s hard enough with just the one.”

Clearing his throat, Rosso smiled apologetically. Then, he snapped his fingers and went to the diagrams. Picking up a folded piece of paper, he turned it over and dumped something into his hand.

“One more tradition.” He showed your four pieces of scrap, grey and small. Well, small for him. “I was going to take these to the silversmith tomorrow.”

“We don’t exchange rings. Isn’t too practical with how much you’re going to be punching and moving things.” He lifted it up and held it in front of his ear, where an earring would go.

“If you want, we can get it engraved, but if we have a matching set, then everyone’s going to know…” He placed two pieces of the scrap in your hand. You turned it over, running your finger along the length.

“I know we’ve been open about the relationship, but this is… It makes it real. And it’s…”

“Important.” you finished, smiling. Putting a hand to your lobe, you nodded. The metal was heavy, but would probably be more manageable post smithing. “Just make sure these won’t rust.”

His eyes widened, and you realized the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Closing his fist, he nodded.

“I’ll take care of it. I promise.” He fiddled with his ear. “I’ve never been pierced before, so it’ll be interesting.”

Taking the metal back from her, he secured them in the envelope and smiled, placing his hands on his hips, looking around the room.

“Next question.”

“Hm?” you let your breath out.

“Who’s going to be your fellow sacrifices?” He said it so plainly, you wondered if he’d said something else.

She blinked rapidly, shaking your head. “I beg your pardon?”

“Minos had seven maidens and seven striplings sacrificed to the minotaur each year.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “Or was it nine years?” He shrugged and shook his head. “But it’s a tradition, just a spectacle, and a simple foot race, because… Greek.” He chuckled. “And then I’ll have to carry you to the altar.”

“Am I going to have to run from you with this?”you gestured to your stomach. “I think that’s a short race.” And knowing Rosso, he’d break the venue apart.

Picking you up, he kissed you.

“You know I’d always catch you anyway.”

“Implying I don’t let you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “And at the rate this baby’s growing, I’m going to be the size of seven maidens, anyway.”

“Aphrodite would be jealous of your beauty.” He nuzzled you, “She’d send you right to me, intending you to be a sacrifice. But that punishment would be a reward.”

“You’re playing with fire.” You warned, but couldn’t help but smile. His mood was a lot higher than before.

He kissed you again, setting you down and pulling out his phone. “I’m going to call the Herd and see if we can get something set up.” Holding it up, he began to snap pictures of the bassinet.

“Going to show them what we did?”

“Yep.” He frowned. “We still have to pick out a name…”

“One thing at a time.”

#monster lover #monster love #monster x human #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster bf #monster fluff #cw pregnancy #cw: pregnancy #terato #writeblr #monster fucker #monsterfucker #minotaur #minotaur boyfriend #minotaur x human #minotaur x reader

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mxnsterbabe · 2 days

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Nonbinary Celestial/Nonbinary Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,408 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You’ve spent your entire life staring at the stars; until one day, one of them falls to earth and you realise they aren’t stars at all.

The old astronomy building, a relic passed down from your father, stood solitary against the night. There you were, enveloped in darkness save for the dome of starlight that stretched above. Through the telescope, the heavens were a canvas.

Orion, with his belt of three aligned stars, seemed to watch over you, a guardian of the sky. You traced the outline of Cassiopeia, the boastful queen sitting on her celestial throne, and beyond her, the great bear Ursa Major loomed large and comforting.

As you methodically charted and sketched the heavens, a sudden flash tore through the the night. A shooting star blazed across the field of your telescope. It was a sight to quicken the pulse, to remind you why you loved these silent, solitary nights.

Instead of fading into the darkness like you expected, this star seemed to grow brighter, larger. Your heart raced as you tracked its descent, the telescope lens barely containing its fury. It didn't vanish but instead seemed to explode in a cacophony of light on the opposite side of town. The burst was brilliant, then gone, leaving an afterimage dancing in your vision and a burning curiosity in its wake.

This was no mere meteorite; you were sure of it. Something extraordinary had just touched down on Earth, and every instinct you had clamoured for you to find out what it was.

Despite a nagging intuition at the back of your skulll, curiosity propelled you forward. You grabbed your bag and coat in a flurry, the cold metal of the telescope still lingering on your fingertips as you rushed out of the building.

The idea of messaging your dad flitted through your mind—he would certainly want to witness this anomaly—but the urgency of the moment overrode the thought. Fingers trembling with adrenaline, you couldn't bring yourself to pause, to type out the words that would delay your discovery even by mere seconds.

You rushed to your car, the engine coming to life with a reassuring roar that cut through the silence of the night. The roads were empty, the world around you asleep. Streetlights blurred past as you drove, guided by the lingering afterimage of the fallen star's brilliance.

Finally, you arrived at a stretch of open field, the vast expanse of grass. You expected a scene of impact, a crater, some mark of the star's violent descent—but the field lay serene and undisturbed under the moon's watchful eye.

Confusion clouded your thoughts. Had you miscalculated the location? Could it have been a trick of the light, a figment of your imagination fuelled by a wishful fascination with the stars? Yet the vividness of the event, the certainty with which you had followed the celestial body's path, left little room for doubt.

You paused, the stillness of the field feeling suddenly charged, electric. A glow in the distance beckoned—an ethereal light that pulsed gently, like a heartbeat. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a cautious step forward, then another, drawn to the light.

As you approached, the source of the glow materialized into a form, unmistakably a person, or something like one. They stood motionless, bathed in a silvery-blue luminescence. Their nudity was obscured by the shifting, shimmering light that cloaked their form.

Their face turned towards you, revealing features both strange and mesmerising—enormous eyes that glittered like stars, a face elongated and ethereal, devoid of any malice, only calm curiosity.

For a fleeting moment, the word alien flashed through your mind, sparking a primal surge of panic.

As your heart pounded in your chest, ready to flee, the creature—no, the person—before you remained still, their gaze locked with yours. There was no aggression in their posture, no intent to harm.

Your fear ebbed, replaced by a profound sense of wonder. This was no star.

Compelled by a magnetic pull, you found yourself closing the distance. As you moved within an arm's reach, the glow from their skin illuminated the space between you. It was a radiance that bordered on overwhelming, so bright it filled your vision completely.

In the near-blinding light, you discerned the figure's form—undeniably humanoid but slender to the point of fragility, limbs delicate and willowy.

Their eyes held you captive, large and luminous, unblinking. It was as if galaxies swirled within them.

Overcome by curiosity and something else, something you couldn’t name, you raised your hand tentatively and touched theirs. The skin was unexpectedly hot, smooth and firm.

Your breath caught in your throat as the warmth spread from their hand to yours, leaving your skin tingling.

“What are you?” you asked softly.

They didn’t respond, simply threading their long fingers through yours.

Time seemed to stretch and warp around you, the field shrinking to the small patch of earth where you and the being stood. Your eyes remained locked onto theirs, and it felt as if you were peering into the very fabric of the universe.

The being leaned forward, their forehead meeting yours with what you could only describe as tenderness. The contact had warmth blooming in you, and your eyes slipped closed.

There were no words spoken, none that you could hear with your ears, at least. With your foreheads pressed together, you felt the being's curiosity, their joy of discovery, and the simple pleasure of their existence. They were here simply to experience, to explore one of hundreds of planets they had visited before.

Then, they said their name. Not with words, you had the impression they couldn’t speak in a way that you’d understand. Rather, you felt a flicker of joy, felt the glow of sunshine on your skin and smelled crisp, fresh grass.

As they stepped away you felt a sudden lightness, head spinning. Your balance faltered, a dizzy spell from the overwhelming encounter. Before you could stumble, their firm grip steadied you, their slender arms surprisingly strong, holding you upright.

They smiled then, and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

"Thank you," you murmured, steadying your breath.

They gave a small, understanding nod, their eyes reflecting the pale light of the moon.

"I wish I could understand your language, your real name," you said, your voice tinged with regret.

In response, they knelt gracefully on the cool grass. Their fingers, elongated and delicate, danced across the earth, tracing letters in the dirt with careful, purposeful strokes.

Nysa.

They looked up at you, their eyes shining.

"Nysa," you repeated, trying the name, feeling its shape and sound on your tongue.

Nysa's smile broadened, and they nodded once more.

As Nysa rose to their full height, a decision formed within you, swift and impulsive. Before doubt could grip you, you stepped forward and kissed Nysa.

Nysa's skin, hot to the touch like sun-warmed stone, seemed to thrum with an energy that coursed through you, igniting every nerve ending. You felt the delicate structure of their lips, the smoothness of them, small teeth scraping across your bottom lip.

Oh, it was perfect.

As you pulled away, the world around you narrowed until there was only Nysa.

A sharp sound broke the spell, a reminder of the world beyond the field. Nysa's frown, a slight crease in their brow, was the first sign of concern. They turned back to you, their gaze searching yours, as if ensuring you were unharmed.

It was then that the lightheadedness hit you, a gentle but insistent pull away from consciousness. As the edges of your vision began to blur, Nysa reached out, their forehead touching yours. It was the last sensation you felt before succumbing to the darkness.

***

You awoke to the familiar confines of your room, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to piece together the memories of the previous night. How did you get back home?

Sitting up, you surveyed the room, everything in its usual place. Undisturbed. Your jacket and shoes were neatly positioned by the door, your bag slung over the back of the desk chair.

You needed to check the rest of the house. Make sure last night had all been real.

Yet, as you attempted to stand, a wave of lightheadedness washed over you. You fell back against the pillow, the room spinning slightly as you tried to anchor yourself to reality.

As you lay there, trying to steady your spinning head, a soft silvery light caught your eye. It wasn't the sunlight streaming through the window, but a gentle blue glow, like moonlight.

Confusion gave way to awe as you realized the source of the light was none other than yourself.

Your hands, held before your eyes in disbelief, were bathed in the same silvery-blue glow that had enveloped Nysa. The light ebbed and flowed around your skin, swirling.

With bated breath, you watched as the glow began to fade, the light slowly receding until your skin returned to its normal shade. You didn’t doubt it any more; the events of the previous night were real.

The thought sent a thrill through you, and you shivered.

You hoped that Nysa would return. Something deep inside of you said they would.

#monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster romance #exophilia fiction #exophilia #tag: nbxnb #tag: celestial #tag: nonbinary monster #tag: nonbinary reader #tag: sfw

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hareofhrair · 3 days

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A Shadow In The Room - Shadow Creature x Fem OC 2POV

Reposting some of my old terato/xeno stories from back before the porn ban! This was a request for a shadow person boyfriend. eh, it's alright.

You've had a long day at work, but your shadow person boyfriend is there to make you feel better.

You can find more of my work on my Patreon!

Tags and Content Warnings: Established Relationship, Consensual, Shadow Person, m/f

You knew he’d be there the minute you shouldered the door open, exhausted from work and dragging your feet. The moment you crossed the threshold your skin prickled and the scent of damp earth and cool water filled your nose. There was a kind of chill in the air that followed him, a scent like darkness and rotting leaves. You’d found him out in the deep woods and no matter where he went now the air of the forest at night followed him.

Sure enough, you’d barely let the door close fully behind you before you felt his arms close around you from behind, pulling you against his broad, solid chest. You felt his lips, then his teeth at your throat, and his hands over your stomach, wrinkling the fabric of your work shirt. His skin was cold, his teeth sharp. His hands were deep, midnight blue and shaped like no human who’d ever lived, long and curved like dark talons. That was the most you ever saw of him. He was always behind you, that living shadow. You saw glimpses, glowing eyes in the dark, horns sometimes- but never more, not even after all the time you’d been together.

You weren’t sure if you could rightly call it a relationship. Certainly, he had his way with you often enough. You could feel him now, hard already against you, grinding into your backside. But you knew so little about him. You stumbled across him that night in the woods and made a joke in a shaking voice because you’d never had the most rational responses to fear. He’d laughed, and you’d kept talking because you thought it was all that was keeping you alive. He’d let you go, and a week later he’d been in your kitchen, wanting to talk again. And gradually, over these periodical visits, you’d stopped being afraid, realizing he was just bored or lonely, not there to kill you. And after a while he’d started talking back, telling you stories about years in the shadows, a strange life you couldn’t quite conceive of. He never gave you the full story, just bits and pieces, like your glimpses of his appearance. You weren’t sure if he didn’t trust you or if remaining always obscured was a condition of his existence. Both seemed equally possible.

Eventually, one lonely night, he’d touched you and your relationship had taken this unusual turn. You were hardly complaining. Except that now he was pulling away, leaving your skin even colder than his chilly touch. You knew better than to turn back to look at him. He’d know you were pouting without you having to. You felt the ghost of his kiss on the back of your neck.

“Go and bathe,” he said. “The outside world clings to you. I want to smell your skin.”

You laugh. It seems like you’ve been laughing around him since the beginning.

“I would be in there already if you hadn’t decided to jump me at the door,” you said, and you feel his hands on you again, squeezing your backside.

“But then I would not have been able to properly impress on you that you should hurry.”

You laughed again and slipped away from him, hurrying towards the shower. You washed quickly, your thoughts preoccupied with the memory of his hands on you. You were sure he’d be in here with you if he could, but he hated the bathroom. The lights were too bright and he despised mirrors. So you rushed, the exhaustion of the workday forgotten. His visits had been rare these past few months. You’d been tied up at work and he was always preoccupied around this time of year when “the burden of the ancient weird is commended once again upon my shoulders,” or so he said, whatever that meant. His language tended to get increasingly formal and archaic when he was being evasive. Regardless, it had been more than a week and you were eager to feel his touch again.

You scrubbed at your hair with a towel quickly, considered taking a moment to put it up or throw on some eyeliner. But you knew he wouldn’t care. Appearances were beneath his concern. It was a relief sometimes to remember that he would never judge you for not caring enough to shave your legs or enjoying cupcakes more than jogging.

You forwent clothes entirely and dropped your towel at the bathroom door, barely taking two steps towards the bed before he was behind you, sweeping you off your feet in a flurry of shadows. You felt the chill of him against your back as your face met the cool sheets of your bed. His kisses, chilly and sharp with the scrape of his teeth, roll down your spine like a shiver. His hand is on the back of your head, and another on your hip, keeping you in the position he likes best. There are other hands, because of course he has others, on your thighs, your wrists and ankles, running nails over your ribs. He only seems to have one mouth from what you can tell however, and mores the pity, because it’s slipped over the curve of your ass now to press cold against your burning lips. His tongue slips through your folds like a chip of ice and makes you gasp for more than one reason. It’s a good thing you always enjoyed temperature play. He can’t help being cold as a winter night. He says, in his sentimental moments, that you melt him.

You grip the sheets and muffle your moans as he teases you, icy tongue and cold fingers working you up to the edge of what you can stand. When he feels you shaking one of his hands takes your throat and pulls your head back so that he can hear your hoarse cries as he finishes you. His cool hands rub circles over your shoulders and thighs as you come down, head spinning. He’s patient as the night, and he waits until your breathing evens and you begin rocking back into his touch before you feel him loom over you.

He slides against your lips, cold and stark against your heat. For a moment he only rolls against you, making you wait, until you’re almost desperate to feel him inside you. When at last he presses in, he’s so cold it almost burns, but you love it. He cools your fever as he spreads you open with a cock that is never quite the same size or shape, that changes every time you’re distracted by his hand on your clit or his lips on your throat.

It’s frantic at first, as it usually is. He seems to have a hard time holding back when he first gets inside you, and the rapid, pounding pace quickly dissolves any self-control you had either. But just when you think you’re close to your limit, he pulls back. His movements slow, his once wild thrusts becoming long, lingering slides, grinding deep within you, taking his time, drawing it out. You love this part the most, when he’s tender with you, even though you know it’s not in his nature. You ache, desperate to return to the peak you’d so nearly achieved, but you’d never rush him, not when he’s laying cold kisses on your neck and rolling his hips against you that way, more hands than you can keep track of drawing soothing circles over your skin. When he takes you like this, it feels like you’re coming apart at the seams, just puzzle pieces in his hands. You love him in these moments, though you’ve never said the words. Neither has he, though you suspect sometimes. You think he knows, despite your silence. You hope he knows.

He begins to pick up speed again, though he remains gentle. He’s close, and you shake, tightening around him. Suddenly, you feel a cool touch over your eyes. You’d had them closed anyway, but now you sense only darkness beyond your closed lids. You feel his hand on your hip, turning you over. You gasp, reach out to stop him. Visions of Cupid and Psyche come to mind. You fear seeing him, not because of his appearance, but because not seeing him has become some kind of nebulous rule of this arrangement and you fear breaking it means losing him.

But the cool hand remains over your eyes, blinding you. He turns you on to your back and you feel suddenly exposed in this position, vulnerable, your feelings and insecurities bared to him. He kisses you, deeply and properly. You don’t think he’s ever kissed you on the mouth before. You accept his kisses with the fervor of a worshiper and feel him slide back into you, rocking into you with quick, short strokes while you discover the cool darkness of his mouth, the icy clarity of his tongue. Another tiny fragment of him, a gift. You remember the Blind Men and the Elephant, putting together the shape of a living thing from small pieces. Your head is full of stories tonight. Full of him. You don’t mind if you never see all of him at once. Everything he’s willing to give you is more than enough.

You feel him pulse and swell within you and you wrap your arms around something like shoulders, press your face to something like his chest, feel fur against your cheek and scales under your fingers and feathers brushing the trembling skin of your stomach. The disparate pieces of him seem further apart than ever. Have you done this to him? Scrambled him this way? You don’t think he minds. He moves faster, pulling your mind back to the present as he squeezes your hips and buries himself deep within you. You feel a coldness like ice spill within you and you shiver and smile. He stays within you, rubbing his thumb over your clit, until he feels you tighten around him again and tip over the precipice of your own orgasm. Your darkened vision goes briefly white as you arch up into his touch and come down shaking and dizzy.

He doesn’t usually linger long beside you in bed, though he often waits just beyond it, sharing idle conversation while you recover if not his touch. But tonight when he pulls away from you, what he left inside you becoming frost on your thighs and melting away, he lays down beside you. You roll onto your side and he presses into your back, his favorite place. His arm around you is cold, but all you feel is warmth.

“Did you know I used to be afraid of the dark,” you said, laying your hand over his. “When I was little. It terrified me not to know what might be there in the room with me.”

“And now?” he asks, his grip loosening a little, as though afraid he is about to have to let go.

“Now?” You consider your words carefully for a moment, but his chest against your back makes you feel bold. “Now, if you asked me to, I might blind myself to be with you.”

He holds you tighter, and for a moment you think you might feel the whole of him pressed against you. Not just the part touching your back, but far beyond it, more than your eyes would ever be able to understand. He’s as vast and unknowable as a forest from the dawn of history, where some ancestor of yours might have stood on the edges, looking into that deep unfathomable darkness. What might you have felt, looking at an ocean of trees that have been growing since before your earliest ancestors walked the earth? Since the moments when what we might tentatively call a tree first came into existence? The first forest, untouched. That’s what he is to you. The spirit of that lost place, untouched by time.

“You would regret it,” he says. “The novelty would wither with time and you would resent me for taking you from the light. In the darkness, you would only see all the other lives you might have lived.”

“Maybe,” you agree. “I think that happens to everyone eventually, though. I think that’s just getting older. Working through it is part of being alive.”

“It’s not a part I’m familiar with,” he confesses.

“Don’t worry,” you reassure him, and bring his hand to your lips to kiss the backs of his cold black fingers. “We have all the time in the world.”

#my writing #terato #xeno #shadow person #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you #monster x female #monster romance #monster lover #monster fucker

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eruden-writes · 2 days

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Room & Board - Part 22 (Vampire x Reader x Werewolf)

paranormal fantasy vampire x human eventual triad (x werewolf)

Anonymous asked:

For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Masterlist First | Previous | Next

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x x x x x

"Tabaeus, you were created to be a repository for memories. That was your whole poin—" Lachlan's attempts to justify his actions come to a halt. He violently coughs as Tabaeus slams their free hand through his back. Bones crack before you hear – more than see – the sound of tissue and flesh tearing. Tabaeus's hand jerks back, withdrawing a pulsing organ from Lachlan.

Standing, the beastly form shucks away from your vampire, leaving their nude human like form. With a kick, they force Lachlan onto his back and pin them down with a foot. The other vampire's attention flickers to his own heart in the Memory Keeper's hand. Lachlan's chest heaves as his eyes dart from Tabaeus's face to their hand, then wildly around to the other vampires present.

His eyes are begging for someone, anyone, to step in. No one moves an inch.

When Lachlan's eyes return to Tabaeus, tears actively stream down his cheeks. He shakes his head wildly as your vampire considers him, their head tilted like a cat observing a mouse under their paw. Tabaeus flexes their hand around the heart and Lachlan jerks.

It's only now that you realize a darkness is creeping over the organ, much like how the shadows moved around Tabaeus and how rust crept along metal at their touch.

Tabaeus squeezes the heart again and Lachlan cries out, gasping open-mouthed. There's only a split second when you catch your vampire's eyes narrowing, as if debating mercy. Across the distance, they glance your way. You meet their eyes and all you can think of is how leaving Lachlan alive would mean always looking over your shoulder. Not just for Tabaeus or you, but for Ewan, Jemma, Bjarka, and Liuvia.

With a small movement, you shake your head and Tabaeus nods. Their gaze swings back down to Lachlan, who saw how your vampire sought your gaze. Lachlan's gaze is vicious on you and, though he is subdued, your stomach reflexively curdles with fear.

That seems to be all the confirmation Tabaeus needs. Their hand tightens around Lachlan's heart, crushing the organ with the easy flex. Rotten flesh and viscera and blood explodes in Tabaeus's palm as Lachlan gives an otherworldly shriek, convulsing savagely. Darkness creeps over Lachlan as he caves in on himself, withering. The weight of Tabaeus's foot is enough to shatter the husk into dust.

Stillness and quiet falls, different than the pressure and silence of earlier.

It's only when Tabaeus moves, tilting their head up from the pile of ash toward the others present, that a ripple runs through the other vampires. They slowly spin, catching every vampire in their gaze.

"Know that the most powerful among you was no match for me," Tabaeus's words loudly ring out, echoing off the ceiling. "If any of you wretched little pissants bother myself or those I call mine, I will end this whole coven. Now, begone!"

Strange sucking and popping sounds fill the air as hundreds of vampires escape Tabaeus's presence. All manner of vampires in new forms – bats, rats, and swarms of insects – flee. Others melt into shadows. Still others simply turn and run, their footfalls fading quickly into the distance.

Until the last sounds of the exodus die away, Tabaeus does not move. The dark black-purple fades from their limbs, the glowing of their eyes subsiding. With a vague surprise, you realize they're uninjured. All the bites and bruises you walked in on are now gone, leaving behind mostly unmarred skin, save for the autopsy scars.

They glare off into the distance, not turning toward you. You almost wonder if they're trying to ignore you, to forget you're even present.

"Tabaeus?" You take a step closer, shaking off Ewan's protective grasp while feeling Jemma's gaze on your back. Tabaeus jerks at the sound of your voice, their muscles tensing as you edge closer toward them. Just as your hand reaches out, brushes against their bare arm, they wheel toward you and grab your wrist.

"It was dangerous for you to come!" A steeliness glints in their red eyes, mingling between anger and worry. Their gaze flicks to Ewan and Jemma, their lip curling with rage. "It was dangerous for you all!"

Despite the heat of exhaustion pounding at the back of your eyes, you bite back and motion toward the pile of cushions, "If we hadn't, you'd still be chained up and used!"

"That is beside the point," they snap, but their gaze flickers to their previous sitting area. Something tenses in their body. The hard gleam in their eyes softens as their gaze flicks back to you. Their shoulders sag, their grasp on your wrist loosening a little. "Utterly beyond the point."

You stare up at Tabaeus, a flurry of feelings flitting through your head. Relief to finally see them again, frustration at their reaction, glad to finally have them – and not their listless other self – standing before you.

Before you can think of what to say, Jemma steps forward. Her hands fall to your shoulder and Tabaeus's arm, making you and the vampire startle. "Can we get moving, before those bloodsuckers decide to come back and try to gang up on us?"

Tabaeus's eyes narrow on her imperiously as they step away from her touch, though they still hold your wrist. "I am sure I can take them all."

"Yeah, well I don't want to test it," Jemma hisses back, her lips puckering with disagreement as her eyes flick to the still shadowy pipes and crevices overhead. Not waiting for you, she turns sharply and begins to leave the room. Over the flap of her bag, Liuvia and Bjarka watch you with big round eyes.

Tabaeus finally releases you, turning and muttering something about needing something to wear.

After securing one of the tapestries like a floor-length cloak around Tabaeus – saving both their modesty from public eye and their skin from the sun – your group retraces through the underbelly of the mall. All of you trudge on quietly, the way lit by Jemma's magic.

The eerie silence settles through the space, each of you mentally gnawing on your own thoughts, though the silence doesn't feel as dangerous as before. Just empty, which is unnerving in a different way. The only sounds are from your group's footfalls and the shift of the makeshift cloak Tabaeus wears.

"Why didn't you do all that sooner?" Ewan poses the question as soon as you step free of the basement stairs. He has shifted back to his human form, though a full short beard lingers on his jaw. In the light of Jemma's magic flame, you realize his clothes are more than a little bedraggled and torn, probably due to both the transformation and the fight. Catching your eyes, Ewan flashes you an awkward smile.

Tabaeus gives a hum, indicating they've heard Ewan's question though they continue forward. The image of them, back straight and draped in a cloak, oddly reminds you of an image from a book from your childhood. A prim matron, nose in the air, with her charges following at brisk pace at her heels.

Like the image in your head, you, Ewan, and Jemma follow after Tabaeus. The curious weight in the air making it apparent everyone was waiting for the vampire to elaborate.

"I was designated a Memory Keeper early into my turning," they finally begin, slowly picking their words like a novice plucking at lute strings. Their red eyes turn downward, toward their still bare feet, as their eyebrows furrow. "For a long time, there were many other vampires older than myself, more powerful than myself. I was handed down and inherited by others and each decade, there were more and more memories to retain and less Keepers for them."

When Tabaeus glances toward you, they realize Ewan and Jemma stare, along with Liuva and Bjarka from the witch's satchel. Their pace slows, registering the sudden attention as their shoulders rise awkwardly and the vampire weakly finishes, "I suspect the method for creation of a Memory Keeper was lost at some point."

"If there even was one to begin with," you retort just as your foot hits the ground floor, sunlight streaming in from the skylights in the ceiling. The words are out of you before you can think about it, but you focus on Tabaeus, judging their reaction. They don't flinch or cringe, but a new tiredness creases their eyes. If there was nothing special about being a Memory Keeper, then they were kept and used for no good reason. Others could have helped retain a coven's memories, instead of the duty falling squarely on their shoulders.

The other vampires just wanted to use Tabaeus rather than sacrifice any of themselves. That thought sends a brief rage through your body, but it dies down quickly beneath a dampening blanket of tiredness. Those other vampires don't matter now. With Tabaeus's show of power, you doubt any of the coven that bore witness would bother them again. Of course, perhaps that was optimistic on your part.

"Yes, if there was even a process to begin with." Tabaeus echoes your sentiment as their arm withdraws from their makeshift cloak to pinch at the bridge of their own nose. They sidestep the shafts of light that litter the floor, sticking to the shadows at the edges. "With greater numbers of vampires and fewer Memory Keepers, it perhaps caused me to... lose sight of myself."

From the other side of Tabaeus, walking blatantly through the rectangles of light, Ewan frowns. "I still don't understand why you didn't demolish them all sooner."

"To know what one is capable of, one must know oneself." Tabaeus sighs and scrubs a hand down their face. You can tell they're struggling to put words to their experiences and logic, though they seem to be keeping pace with the conversation. "Being near constantly in a fugue state and without an older vampire able or willing to guide me, I did not know what powers I grew into. Quite honestly, everything I did down there was instinct."

"You still seemed to be pretty out of it when we came, though. Until, well..." With a motion of your hand, you indicate your neck. Tabaeus pauses, causing everyone else to stop as well. With the sun streaming in, it feels less urgent to leave the mall behind. Something creases at the vampire's expression as they stare at your neck, again searching for the words they want to say.

"When I was with you, you allowed me to re-establish who I am to myself. Gave me the space to explore what it means to be me. When I fed on you, your memories and mine locked together to remind me of it all," Tabaeus begins, soft and slow. They lock their gaze with yours and you already know what they're thinking, what they're remembering. Those moments you two shared, from that first night they stalked you to the very last night when they left. Reaching out, Tabaeus presses their cold fingers to the shadowy side of your neck and it's only then you realize you stand half in shade, half in sunlight.

Still, Tabaeus doesn't break their gaze from yours. You think something akin to wonderment or reverence flashes behind their red eyes, making heat rise to your face. Their lips curl hesitantly into a gentle smile, worsening the warmth inside you as they take your hand in both of their own. "I owe my whole being to you, amata."

Words are lost on your tongue as heat intensifies within you. A flush crawls over your cheeks, painfully aware that Ewan, Jemma, and the imps are watching. Your eyes fall to Tabaeus's chest, where your hand his clasped against their chest. In an attempt to say something to fill the silence, your lips part, but slowly close again as Tabaeus's thumb skirts your knuckles, losing whatever thought you had.

It's Ewan who finds something to say with a kind of fondness teasing at the corner of his lips. "Corny ass."

Tabaeus's head snaps up to look at Ewan, though they don't move their hand from cupping yours. Their nose wrinkles as they hiss, "That as it may be, Fido–"

The grin on Ewan's lips twitches a tiny bit wider as he interjects, "Oh good. Still got anti-lycan sentiments, I see."

The vampire ignores him as they continue onward, tugging you along by your wrist. Ewan follows like a pup at your heels.

"–it is the truth. Amata and, to a far lesser extent, you," Tabaeus's lips twist into a scowl as they glance at Ewan, "allowed me to reinstate who I am to myself. Which I suppose I should thank you – both of you – for."

"Aw, it's nice to be appreciated," Ewan croons and you shoot him a tight-lipped look. You can't blame him for being an ass. It seems impossible to ask either Ewan or Tabaeus to treat each other civilly, at least perpetually. There's a brightness to Ewan's eyes that softens your pointed look at him. Relief flicks in his eyes, his body language relaxed for the first time since Tabaeus left.

Unaware of your realization, Ewan leans closer to Tabaeus, a smirk spread wide enough across his lips that his pointed teeth flash in the sun. "Bet I'm the only werewolf in history that has a vampire's appreciation."

Tabaeus shoots Ewan another withering look, but – like before – it has little heat. In fact, you believe they're more embarrassed than genuinely aggravated with Ewan. Regardless, the vampire shakes their head, still not pausing, before motioning to Jemma. "What I do not understand is why they are here?"

At that, Jemma snorts and rolls her eyes. "I helped find you. So, a thanks for me is in order too."

"But who are yo–" Tabaeus begins to ask as they turn toward her, before Jemma gathers up her hair in a ponytail and magics up her uniform's cap. As she plops the hat on her head, feeding the ponytail through the hat, the vampire's eyes widen in recognition. A delighted edge overtaking the previous aggravation in their words, "Oh! The iced cream purveyor! I thought I scented mana on you, but I thought it was, perhaps, the food."

"And I thought vampires couldn't eat food," Jemma returns as her hands fall to her sides again. This time, it's she who leads the movement back through the mall. The exit is in sight now. Through the large windows, you see the sun has crested the midpoint and is on its way down. A pang of hunger shoots through your stomach and you vaguely wonder if it's safe to visit the diner one last time before leaving.

Tabaeus still leads you forward, though their attention is on Jemma. "We can. Well, I can. And I do a great many things vampires reportedly cannot."

Once more, Jemma pauses. She eyes Tabaeus, an intrigued glint in her eye as she takes inventory of the vampire. "Interesting."

"Is it?" Tabaeus stops, their grip flexing on your wrist. For some reason, they seem nervous under Jemma's discerning gaze. Adjusting the hold, you slide your palm properly into Tabaeus's own.

"Considering the oldest vampires I know of are about 1000 years old and even they didn't eat non-blood meals, yes." Jemma hums briefly and you glance at her, unable to fully read the considering expression on the witch's face. You imagine you see old tomes and aged text flipping through the rolodex of her mind. "Is Tabaeus your given name?"

"I believe so," they answer, their brow furrowed. "Why?"

You can see where this is heading. Jemma's thought mirrors one you've had multiple times: how old is Tabaeus? However, unlike you, Jemma has experience and access to finding out more information about vampires. Or seems to, at least.

"When we get back, I'll delve into some research." Jemma turns away, pushing through the exit doors. "You may be far older than any vampire in recorded history."

"Excuse me?" To that, Tabaeus's eyelids fluttered rapidly, the thought apparently difficult to digest. Gently, you guide them out of the way of the shafts of sun that fan out on the floor from Jemma opening the door.

"One existential problem at a time, please, Jemma," you call after the witch as she briskly walks through the threshold. She doesn't seem to notice, her mind a million miles away in some archive.

Not one to pass up an opportunity, Ewan chuckles as he passes Tabaeus. As he does, he jostles the vampire with a shoulder bump. "Bet you wish you were a young pup now, you old bat."

Tabaeus answers with a hissing lunge toward Ewan, but the werewolf merely cackles as he dances into the sunlight. Instinctively, Tabaeus freezes at the light, before remembering their cloak. Your wrist forgotten; they pursue after a laughing Ewan to deliver retribution as the werewolf ducks laughingly in the car.

Inwardly, you stifle a sigh, realizing the road trip back home is going to be far more chaotic than the prior sober journey. With a backward glance into the quiet mall, however, you know any amount of friendly chaos is better than what lurked under your feet.

A loud curse comes from the car where Ewan and Tabaeus tussle. As you turn to look, you find Jemma glaring through the rearview mirror at the two, her lips twisted in reprimand as she speaks. A smile teases at your lips as you cross the threshold of the mall, leaving behind the lingering shadows.

It's time to head home.

x x x x x

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rs-hawk · 5 months

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Your Siren Boyfriend eventually tricking you into the water after weeks of just chatting to you on the docks. He never sings or tries to convince you to come in. He sits in the water, his arms propping him up on the low dock so you two can talk. His eyes dark as a trench, and you can’t help but worry about all the light on the surface hurting him. Even at night, it’s still brighter than where he’s from.

The night you bring him sunglasses is when he knows you’re going to be his mate. He feigns confusion and asks how to put them on. You giggle and lean forward, setting them on his face. He takes that moment to grab your wrists, yanking you into the salt water. You barely manage to catch a breath before hitting the water, not that it matters because as soon as he kisses you, you suddenly can breathe.

You want to be angry at him, but he looks so happy. He starts clicking and chirping, something he hasn’t done in a few weeks since he realized you can’t understand him. It must be like when you gets excited and revert to your mother tongue.

His shark teeth gently nip at you neck as he tugs at your clothes, encouraging you to slip out of your swimsuit. You know that you shouldn’t. This isn’t right. But you can’t help yourself. The feeling of your Siren slipping inside of you makes you whimper. He pushes you against the shifting sand of the ocean floor, slamming into you roughly. You can’t help the moans and sounds that escape your mouth. Thank God you can breathe under water now because there’s no way you could have contained yourself.

When he’s done, he eases back, burying his face between your trembling legs. His fat tongue encourages you to finish, and you do rather quickly. Once he’s satisfied, his kisses make their way back up to your lips.

“You’ll stay with me, won’t you?”

#fantasy romance #monster lover #smut #monster fuqqer #monster fudger #monster fluff #monster fucker #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster bf #fantasy smut #writers on tumblr #writing #author #queer writers #female writers #monster kink #monster k!nk

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dampsleeves · 5 months

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werewolf partner who is terrified of turning around you because they're not sure how much control they'll lack in wolf-form. They make you chain them up in the basement, lock the door, and arm yourself with a gun just in case. Finally the time comes, and you're ready. You expect to hear growling and thrashing, or some sort of vicious struggle. But you only hear faint whimpers. You decide to go downstairs to see what's up, and there you find them, in their wolf form - ears back, head down, looking sad and scared. You approach, and still, no aggression.

After a few moments, you even decide to sit next to them. They lean in cautiously to sniff you, their eyes lighting up as they seem to recognize your scent. They immediately scoot over and lay their gigantic head in your lap, still whimpering and shaking - clearly seeking comfort from you. You expected a ferocious monster from how they'd warned you, but instead, you essentially got a giant puppy. You gently stroke and cuddle your werewolf until they fall asleep on you. Exhausted from all the previous excitement, and not wanting to leave them scared and alone, you fall asleep too. You're awoken in the morning by them - back in human form - shaking you in a panic. They found you lying next to them in a pile of fur, and thought that something had happened - that you were dead. They're glad to be wrong, as you rub the sleep from your eyes. When they find out what all actually happened, they're extremely relieved, but a little embarrassed.

#monster x human #monster smut #monster boyfriend #monster lover #huge monster #monster romance #monster girlfriend #monster love #monster bf #monster fluff #monster girl #monster boy #monster kink #monster x reader

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inkegg · 2 months

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I watched Lisa Frankenstein 6 times in the last 48 hours. This movie...

Pose ref under cut

#lisa frankenstein #lisa swallows #the creature #frankenstiensmonster #frankenstein #jennifers body #monster romance #lers fucking go #this movie is so t4t

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cosmicstarlatte · 10 months

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sweet shy monster who didn't think he had a chance with you, a human, but decides to try to court you anyway even as his peers laughed 🥺

sweet shy monster bf in heat, pumping another full load of his thick cum into your tiny body while his peers seethe with jealousy 🥰

#◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic monsterfucker . ⊹#monsterfucker #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster smut #monster headcanons #monster bf #terato #monster lover #monster nsft #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you #monster romance #tw monsterfucking

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deunmiu-dessie · 29 days

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ⅴ▬ ⁽ 𝑜𝓇𝒸 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, explicit content, teratophilia, orc/royalty!human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, breeding, spit kink, sloppy kisses, size difference, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, orcish, reader loses all forms of etiquette and just babbles-- stupidly, belly bulge. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: as royalty it's your duty to marry and provide heirs for the kingdom, however, your parents have a different plan for you.

꒰m!orc ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝐹or as long as you can remember, you have been allured by the forbidden. Whenever your parents commanded you to abstain from a certain act or sternly prohibited you from engaging in another, it ignited a fervor within your being. And inevitably, you succumbed to its allure.

Your relationship with your parents was not a harmonious one. From the time you were but a child, they made it abundantly clear that you were not conceived out of their love for one another, but rather out of an obligation to the throne. To them, you were an inconvenience, a mere hindrance that they longed to be rid of. Thus, you existed in a perpetual state of unease, forever uncertain of their next move.

The castle bustled with activity this week, the number of knights seemed to have multiplied, and your encounters with your parents grew scarce. Your daily meals together became non-existent- not that you were complaining. Instead, during supper, they scorned and mocked you—drawing comparisons to your elder cousin who had recently become betrothed to a Duke. You were aware that they would arrange a marriage for you; it was inevitable, but you hoped it would be to someone who would eventually cherish you as you would them.

Verily, this day seemed naught but a replica of the day prior—a day draped in melancholy. The heavens were adorned with clouds of a somber ashy hue, obscuring the radiant sun in its entirety, and permitting but a scant ray of light to penetrate. You lay sprawled on your bed; the clamor from beyond your door kept you from getting any sleep, so you opt to lay there, eyes shut and breathing even.

The two hefty thuds at your door jolt you awake, your eyes snapping to the entrance. A servant girl stood there, her gaze piercing, and her upper lip curled in a sneer. "The King and Queen request your presence for a meal in the dining chamber."

You release a heavy sigh and nod. "Yes, I shall join them shortly, Nadia." she scoffs and closes the door with a soft thud. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you rose from your bed, slipping into your shoes with a sense of resignation. Hastily, you arranged your disheveled hair and adjusted your attire in the mirror, preparing yourself for the impending encounter. Finally, summoning your resolve, you embarked on the descent towards the dining hall.

Your stomach churns uncomfortably as you motion towards the knights, fingers twisting nervously as they swing open the heavy oak doors. Stepping into the chamber, you swiftly bow and linger there for a moment, awaiting permission to be seated. "Hail to the Sun and Moon of the realm." Your sire grunts and gestures for you to take a seat; you release a shaky breath and settle across from your mother, who pays you no mind.

Within the dining hall, a profound stillness prevails, accompanied solely by the gentle clatter of utensils upon porcelain plates. You dare to disrupt the silence, your heart constricting within your breast, burdened by your uneasiness. " Pray tell, have I heard true? Have the demons breached the borders, causing mayhem? Is that why the ranks of the noble knights have swelled in recent days?"

The older man looks up from his meal, steely eyes on your face. "I did not deem you astute enough to discern matters of such nature, but aye, it is true. The Orcs shall breach the barrier if we do not do something. The knights from Tvatian shall not grace us with their presence for a week's time, yet our defenses wane with each passing moment."

The sound of your mother's throat being cleared reverberates through the air, abruptly drawing your eyes towards her. "You shall soon attain the age of twenty, my dear. Do you have any intentions of entering into wedlock?" Her voice possesses a cloying sweetness, signifying her ulterior motives; she is forever scheming. As you carefully place your knife and fork on the table, you grant her your undivided focus. "Aye, mother," you reply, your words tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, she gracefully lifted her goblet to her lips, attempting to conceal the mischievous grin that flickered across her features. "Verily, a little bird has whispered in my ear that Orcs take pleasure in having humans as mere playthings, using them as harlots and passing them amongst themselves. How dreadful."

Your hands clench beneath the table, and you struggle to suppress the bile that threatens to rise. Your heart thumps sporadically in your chest, almost painfully. What is she implying? "Pray tell, what is the essence of your words?"

"The royal family's expectations are not to be taken lightly, my child. If you persist in shirking your responsibilities by avoiding marriage and offspring, alternative measures must be considered. You shall be delivered to the head Orc at the border; mayhap that will pacify them until the Tavatian knights arrive." Your father had spoken this time, causing you to swiftly turn your gaze towards him. Tears welled up in your eyes, and a soft laughter escaped your lips. "Pray, father, assure me that you jest."

The answer lies within his silence. Your hands collide with the table, your head sways vehemently from side to side. "Nay, nay! You shall not subject me to this. What offense have I caused thee? I have obeyed all your commands unquestioningly, and you are planning to— Nay, I shall not proceed."

As the succulent salmon dances on her fork, your mother's laughter fills the air, resonating with a warmth that belies the gravity of her words. "My dear child, you find yourself bereft of options. You shall be deemed a traitor to the noble lineage and condemned to perish before your very birthday." A lump lodges itself in your throat, and tears stream down your face, as you rue the moment you stepped out of your room. "For what reason do you bear such animosity towards me?"

"Escort her back to her chamber; she's giving me indigestion," your mother states with a grimace. The knights pause briefly, uncertain of how to guide you away. Dismissing them with a wave of your hand, you rise from your chair and exit the chamber, tears clouding your sight. The journey back is unsettling, with the maids gossiping and gesturing, their disdain evident on their faces, and their disapproving gazes following you.

The door is forcefully slammed shut behind you, and with great urgency, your feet carry you to your bed, where you collapse with a heavy sigh. Almost immediately, your pillow becomes saturated with the tears that pour forth, and you huddle into yourself, simply becoming smaller.

Indeed, you knew this would occur eventually, but you hadn't thought you would be handed over to some hideous monster who would likely slay you upon arrival. Violent sobs wrack your body, shaking you to the core, while your nose runs uncontrollably, the pillow muffles a scream of agony.

After half an hour had passed, you lay there, sleep welcoming you with warm arms. The answer to this puzzle would reveal itself upon your awakening.

—

Woken by the sound of shuffling, faint whispers, and delicate clinks, you remain motionless, filled with trepidation, and unwilling to stir from your position. You quickly clench your eyes shut upon hearing the intruder approach. As much as you desired to confront them, you were also intrigued to uncover their intentions within your room.

"Seize her limbs; we must transport her to the dungeon." In an instant, your heart falters, trembling fiercely, and for a moment, your breath is held captive. As your eyes snap open, the ceiling of your chamber looms above you. Swiftly, you strike at the person nearest to you, expressing gratitude to the gods as you hear their curse.

Emerging hastily from the confines of your bed, you sprint towards the exit, a shrill cry escaping your lips as a hand clutches your ankle. You descend abruptly, your chin colliding with the cold marble beneath, silently expressing gratitude for the prudent act of placing your tongue against the roof of your mouth in the final moments.

Swiftly flipping over, you kick frantically, tears streaming down your face as your legs are forcefully spread apart, and the assailant inserts themselves between your thighs, seizing hold of your arms.

Your vision blurs as a heavy slap is brought across your face. The brief respite from your struggle grants the assailants the opportunity to lay a cloth upon your nostrils. Your eyes flutter shut, darkness casting a shadow upon your vision. The feel of your body being lifted is the only thing you remember.

Within the confines of the cell, you find yourself in a state of contemplation, your head gently leaning against the cold metal bars. The sharp sound of heels striking the ground causes you to straighten up. The passage of time remains elusive, yet the atmosphere hints at the arrival of a new day, shrouded in the quiet of dawn.

Your mother's face came into view, causing you to sneer in disdain as you buried your head in your knees, refusing to meet her gaze. The very sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine, igniting a mixture of anger and sorrow within you. She callously auctioned you off, displaying a complete lack of concern for your well-being.

"I reckoned it would be preferable for you to don your best attire, but it would be futile. A watchman shall be present shortly to guide you to the border, make no disturbance, do you understand? 'Twould be unsightly if you do."

You ignore her, but deep down, you are filled with dread to venture towards the border. You longed to weep and plead with her to refrain from sending you, but it would only wound your pride. Instead, she smiles and draws nigh unto the prison bars. "When we emerge victorious in this war, and if you are still breathing, I shall dispatch you to a brothel. I couldn't possibly have such a defiled child. Revel in your sojourn there, my dear."

The clatter-clack of her footwear slowly vanishing into the distance brings forth a torrent of tears. Why must this befall you? What sin have you committed to warrant such treatment? The jingle-jangle of keys catches your attention; the guard stands before you with a look of pity. "Your majesty, the time has arrived."

You nod in a pitiful manner and rise from the ground, using your soiled hands to dry your tears, leaving traces of dirt on your cheeks. As you draw near to the guard, he pulls down his sleeve and tenderly wipes your cheeks with a sympathetic smile. You bow softly in gratitude and proceed to walk with him to the carriage.

He assists you inside and closes the door; a click prompts you to peer through the tiny gap. A lock secures the door; as you lock eyes with the guard, he merely sighs and shakes his head. "The Queen has requested this. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty."

You remain silent, leaning back in the seat and staring blankly at the castle. You see your father standing at his office window, observing. You avoid his gaze, curling up in the seat. Then, as the carriage sets in motion, your heart swells, and tears flow.

The carriage's abrupt jolt awakens you from your nap; the sun is just beginning to descend, signaling the end of a day filled with endless riding. The only noise is the steady trot of the horses and the occasional whisper of the soldiers. Have you arrived already? You swallow nervously and flinch as the door is forcefully opened. "We have arrived, your highness."

You nod and sit up, clasping his hand to disembark from the carriage. Your eyes swiftly survey the surroundings. Despite the tales, the border seemed relatively serene. You couldn't hear anything from beyond the wall. At length, a throat is cleared, causing you to look up, and the guard beckons you along. You hesitate for only a moment before fortifying your resolve and walking forward.

After much anticipation, the distant voices grow more distinct. "Captain, 'tis here! Shall we unseal the gates?" The clamor of the ponderous wheels turning and ascending is loud in your ears. The gate opens enough to allow your passage beneath. They weren't wasting time at all. The guard places a hand on your lower back and pushes you forward gently. "The Orc General has agreed to receive you; he's on the other side waiting."

You suppress the lump in your throat and proceed, every gaze fixed upon you. The wall loomed thick and intimidating, and you couldn't shake off the fear of it collapsing on you as you reached the other side. However, as you eventually crossed over, your gaze locked with his.

Standing tall at a minimum of 9 feet, he possessed a powerful build adorned with thick muscles, and hair decorating his chest. Dark brown hair cascaded down to his waist woven into an intricate braid, contrasting against his pear-colored complexion and a thick beard enveloped his jaw. Scars crisscrossed his body, enhancing his rugged charm. Despite his blunt tusks, one of which was slightly chipped, there was no denying the outrageous attractiveness of this Orc.

As he takes a step forward, an instinctual reflex compels you to retreat, a shiver of trepidation coursing through your being. Your legs, heavy as if forged from lead, refuse to heed your desperate plea for escape. A subtle chuckle escapes his lips, the corners curling upwards in a smug grin. "Time is not a luxury I possess, little human," he mocks, his voice dripping with impatience.

You part your lips to utter a response, but only silence greets your futile attempt. The resounding thud of the closing wall seals your grim destiny, causing your weakened knees to buckle beneath you, surrendering to the tender embrace of the grassy ground. With a deep sigh, he strides towards you, casting a towering shadow over your slumped figure, a chilling reminder of his overpowering presence.

With utmost ease, he effortlessly lifts you, as if you were as light as a feather. Your body tenses in his embrace, a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation. The tears well up, threatening to spill over. Surprisingly, his touch is tender, his hands delicately traversing your legs and back. Summoning your courage, you manage to muster a question, your voice trembling slightly.

"Might I inquire about your name?" Despite your hesitant speech, he pays no mind, his voice resonating with a deep timber that sends a surge of desire coursing through your veins. A flush of warmth spreads across your face, compelling you to avert your gaze and focus on your lap. "I am Loran, the General of the Mammoth Clan."

Silence envelops the air for a fleeting moment before your voice breaks through once more. "My name is (Name)" He acknowledges your introduction with a subtle hum, and together, you navigate through the labyrinthine paths until you arrive at a large tent. With utmost care, he settles you upon a sumptuous bed adorned with furs, then proceeds to position himself near a table, obscuring its contents from your prying eyes.

A knot tightens in your throat as you summon the courage to voice your deepest fear. "Might you have intentions of devouring me?" you whisper, recoiling at the childlike vulnerability that tinges on your words.

His laughter causes a flutter in your chest; every aspect of him leaves your insides twisted. At last, he ceases his actions and pivots to meet your gaze, his arms folded. You had to physically remind yourself to avert your eyes from his well-defined muscles. "Would you like me to?" His voice carries a teasing lilt, yet his words hint at something more intimate.

You shake your head in denial and draw your knees closer to your body. He was nothing like the figure you had imagined; you were convinced that your life would have ended by now. Your gaze wanders aimlessly as you delve into your own musings. Unbeknownst to you, he crouches down before you. The calloused tips of his fingers grazing your chin send a shiver down your spine. Your eyes meet his, and you find yourself holding your breath.

"The hour grows late; retire for the night. "

You offer a silent nod, watching him leave the tent. Following his guidance, you settle back onto the furs. After the tumultuous events of the day, slumber swiftly envelops you, embracing the plush comfort of the bedding.

The warmth seeping into your skin prompts you to wriggle out of the furs. The weight of an arm flung over your stomach arrests you, dread settling in your heart and coiling around it like a vice. Though yesterday's events come rushing back to you and you relax, your tense body melting into Loran's embrace.

Despite the circumstances that brought you here, he had shown nothing but kindness, even playfulness - he didin't really make you uneasy, and it seemed as though a burden had been lifted from your shoulders.

In the realm of uncertainty, his actions remained capricious, yet amidst this unpredictability, a newfound liberation enveloped your being, you were free. Loran, with an irresistible allure, draws you nearer, your bodies melding as your front meets his. You place your hands on his chest and gently create distance, huffing as he cuddles closer.

After struggling a bit more, you come to a stop and seize the opportunity to examine him closely. Withdrawing your hand from his chest, you gently place it on his cheek, relishing its velvety texture. Loran possessed a striking appearance. Tracing your fingers along his lips, the sensation of his tusks lightly brushing against your fingertips captivates you once more. Their smoothness leaves you mesmerized. The rounded tips are gentle and harmless; they would not cause any discomfort if you were to share a kiss.

Blushing with embarrassment, your cheeks turn a rosy hue, and for a fleeting moment, you seek solace by burying your face into his chest. Raising your gaze once more, you cautiously wave your hand before his face, ensuring his continued slumber. With no signs of movement and a steady rhythm of breath, a sigh of relief escapes your lips.

Gradually, you shift your position, ascending along his form, while your heart flutters nervously within your chest. With a mixture of fascination and unease, you lean closer, drawn to an inexplicable magnetism emanating from him. His lips, so alluring, entice you irresistibly.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you lean in with deliberate slowness, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation of his tusks grazing your skin sends a rush of pleasure up your spine. With closed eyes, you deepen the kiss, savoring the unexpected softness of his lips. His taste is intoxicating, akin to a forbidden elixir. You have always been drawn to forbidden pleasures.

With a hint of reluctance, you retreat, allowing your eyes to slowly unveil the world around you. A startled gasp escapes your lips as your gaze meets Loran's. Despite your endeavors to break free from his embrace, his arms encase you like unyielding steel, entrapping you. Loran's chuckle resonates with a profound and drowsy timbre, while his hand ascends to firmly grasp your chin. "Do not flee from me, Sma ni." ( little one )

His lips are on yours, gentle and governing. His other hand gripping your waist and quickly lifting you onto his chest. The sensation of his thick and moist tongue overpowering your mouth elicits a fervent moan from deep within you, while your thighs instinctively clasp around his stomach. As his hands glide up your top, the pads of his fingers diligently work out the tension in your soft skin. Gradually, they find their way to your hips, expertly guiding them to grind against his abdomen.

With a soft whine escaping your mouth, you break the connection of his kiss, and your tongue lazily protrudes, leaving a trail of warm saliva on your chin. A primal growl resonates from deep within his chest, causing your thoughts to blur. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, the rough hair gently tickling your palms. The pressure on your hips eases, and his hand tightly grasps your hair, enabling him to sit up and halt the rhythmic grind of your hips.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as the throbbing sensation between your thighs intensifies. Loran's lips trail along the curve of your throat, delicately nibbling at your tender skin, while his tongue glides with ease. Suddenly, a tearing sound startles you and a rush of cool air caresses your newly bared legs. The remnants of your shredded trousers gracefully descend to the floor, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Upon the velvety fur, Loran tenderly positions you, his voracious eyes meticulously exploring the expanse of your body. In a swift motion, he removes the sole obstruction that conceals your body, leaving you vulnerable to his cravings. You clench your thighs, your pussy pulsating with emptiness. This man was sinful; he looked so delectable, his lips shimmering with the remnants of your passionate kisses, and his complexion adorned with a captivating flush.

He lets out a deep groan, settling himself amidst your thighs, the ache in your legs a mere whisper compared to the intensity of his touch, tongue dancing over your nipples, nipping and tugging. Loran's hand travels up your body, his thick fingers entering your warm, wet mouth. You suppress a gag and suck on them shyly, tears welling up in your eyes. As his fingers delve deeper into your throat, you grasp his wrist firmly, your hips grinding against his thick bulge.

Loran pulls his fingers from your mouth, watching the rivulets of saliva drip down his digits. Leaving a glistening trail of moisture along your body, Loran delicately caresses his fingers through the soft curls of hair on your pussy, teasing you with the soft touch of his fingertips. With deliberate precision, he gradually eases one digit into the confines of your snug entrance stretching you. You pull your fleshy bottom lip into your mouth, teeth digging painfully. Your lashes flutter, exposing the whites of your eyes as they roll back in blissful surrender, eyebrows arching. Your mewls are soft and pleading. "Mmph! L-Loran. Please "

Your voice is a siren's call to him, as you whimper and plead for him. His desire to possess you completely, to fuck you full of his cum, to have you swollen with his young, consumes him. The mere thought of it almost brings him to the brink of release. Granting mercy upon your adorable, fucked out face, he finally sinks his finger into your cunt, relishing the exquisite tightness that embraces him, while your delicate hands clutch his braid and tug.

With his other hand, he gently cups your cheeks between his large, powerful fingers, causing your lips to pucker. His mouth descends upon yours, messy and dominating, leaving a trail of mingled saliva that pools down your flushed cheeks. He chuckles as your eyes wander elsewhere, glazed and hazy with pleasure as he eases a single finger inside you.

A high-pitched sound escapes your lips as he expertly probes a sensitive spot deep within you, causing your hips to tremble and your inner walls to clench around his fingers. Leaning closer, his warm breath brushes against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ayh lat naka ve cum, sma shara? " His mother tongue is foreign to you, but it sounds absolutely erotic, especially while he's stroking your drooling pussy skillfully. You shudder fervently, emitting mewls and whimpers, as the squelching noises of his thrusts fill the confined space of the tent. “I—uhn~ w-wait p-please, Lor…” You babble nonsensically. ( are you going to cum, little human? )

Loran, in a teasing mood, complies with your dumb prattling, and moves away from you, fingers slipping out with an erotic pop. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as tears well up in your eyes from the empty feeling in your pussy, your eyes widen at seeing him suck on his dampened fingers. “N-no, why’d you stop!”

With a chuckle, the Orc leans in to press a tender kiss on your flushed cheeks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I simply did as you asked, Faushnu," he whispers. Pulling back slightly, he studies your expression - your eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and your chest rising and falling rapidly. "I did not mean for this," you whimper, grinding your hips against his growing bulge. “M-more. Give me more.” You give him a stern glare, that only turns him on more, his little hostage was so demanding. ( baby ) "Of course, Your Highness," he says, his tone dripping with playful mockery. Loran's large hands firmly grasp your waist, swiftly maneuvering you onto your stomach. With a gentle yet commanding motion, he elevates your hips, causing your face to be buried in the soft furs beneath you. The sensation is almost agonizing as your back arches, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips. A glob of warm saliva unexpectedly lands on your moistened pussy, causing an involuntary clenching reaction. "What are yo--?"

Before you can finish, the sudden roughness of his tongue against your throbbing cunt has you seeing stars. His feral growls reverberate through the air, as his tongue delves and ravishes you with an insatiable fervor. Reduced to a whimpering wreck, tears of rapturous delight cascade down your flushed face. Desperate to regain control, you weakly press your small hand against the crown of his head, attempting to halt the relentless onslaught. "No more, please, m'gunna cum. Want to cum for you," you manage to slur amidst incoherent babbling, your words a contradictory mix.

Loran, enraptured by your musings, fingers your pussy once again, effortlessly finding that spongey nerve inside of you and deftly curling his thick finger into it, time and again. A torrent of scorching pleasure engulfs your entire being, as you succumb to an intense climax, your trembling thighs embracing his head while your pussy flutters around his finger.

" Loran! "You slur, thighs still convulsing as the feel of Loran's hands on the fat of your hips seems multiplied, your mind filled with goo. The rustle of fabric falling to the ground barely registers before his thick cock presses into your pussy, hands guiding your hips onto him. Warmth trickles onto your pulsing cunt, his saliva lubing where you connect. You clench around him, emitting obscene moans.

He delves deeper, your snugness yielding to his thick, heavy cock. You swear you can feel every pulsating vein, every ridge of him inside of you. You whimper and whine when he fucks half of his big cock into your tiny little hole, and you thrash and let out small mewls of pleasure. "Mmph, Lor--!! it won't fit!" you whimper amidst sobs.

"Hm?" He utters, his voice a low hum, as he observes with rapt attention as you stretch around his green, monstrous cock. The pressure within your abdomen steadily intensifies, inch by inch, until Loran thrusts in the last couple of inches, his large balls flush against your engorged clit. You're already fucked stupid, pupils blown, and moans strewing from your lips. The Orc takes hold of your hand, guiding it towards your stomach, allowing you to feel the undeniable presence of his shaft protruding from your belly. "Do you feel me? Feel my cock in your insides, my little human?"

With a forceful motion, he retreats, then thrusts forcefully into you, his grip tightening on your hair as he pulls. A fervent moan escapes your lips, as the resounding collision of his hips against your ass fills the air, the only thing you can hear. The wet squelching of your arousal intermingles with his precum, cascading onto the opulent furs beneath you. His name becomes a sacred mantra, slipping from your tongue like a fervent prayer. "S'good, m'gunna cum, let me cum, please, please."

With a gentle caress, Loran's hand ascends your stomach, pinching your sensitive nipples. You mewl, back arching as you clench and pulse around his thick length, cumming harder than before, a wave of darkness gently tinting your vision. A low, guttural moan reverberates from deep within you, harmonizing with Loran's unyielding thrusts. “That's a good fuckin’ girl.”

The Orc's hand comes down on your ass, observing the quivering flesh. Your violated hole trembles around Loran's thick length, and he snickers, his hips stuttering. "You're mine. Hm? Do you understand, pet?" His thrusts became more profound, faster, not giving you rest, groaning as you nod quickly, whimpering.

You turn your gaze towards him, his fingers constricting in your tresses. "Loran, want you to cum inside me, please." Your feeble arms emerge from beneath your form, delicate hands reaching to spread your pussy wider. "You will, right?"

Your wanton plea hurls the massive Orc over the brink. Loran's hips slam into yours once more as his scorching cum coats your walls; the copious amount of it had you cumming once more. Loran continues to pump his seed into you, his cock still hard and balls full of cum. He longed to see you swollen with his offspring; he wouldn't stop until he knew you were trapped with him.

You are not permitted to rest until the early morning, curled against his chest with his seed leaking from your stretched opening. Your body is tender, marked with bruises on your neck and chest. Loran places his large hand on your cheek; although he is running late for the meeting, he decides to allow you more time to sleep.

He lifts you gently, thankful that he has cleaned you up and changed the bedding. You snuggle into his warmth, almost convincing him to delay for another hour. "My zemar, it's time to wake up. We must rise before the sun sets." (my heart)

Stirring in his arms, your eyelashes flutter before you slowly open your bleary eyes. Attempting to close them once more, his hearty chuckle resonates, partially rousing you. Placing you gently on the bed, he drapes one of his shirts over you, guiding your arms through the sleeves. Loran picks you up again, cradling you as he carries you out of the tent, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun. The short walk to the other side of the campsite goes unnoticed by you.

He arrives promptly, his raven perched gracefully on its stand. A soft whistle escapes his lips, a signal for the bird to gather the troops. Loran takes his place at the head of the table, positioning you to face him, your legs wrapped around his waist. With spit on his fingers, he traces circles around your cunt, pleased that it had returned to its original state, tight and warm. After lubricating your entrance, he spits on his palm and wraps his member in a firm grip, ensuring that it's slick.

Loran aligns himself with your little hole and eases inside, emitting a deep groan at the vice grip; you let out a sleepy moan, tightening around him. His large hands grip the fat of your hips, guiding you down the rest of his thick length. He pulls his shirt over your ass, concealing where his cock is nestled inside of you.

He has to stop himself from fucking you on the table in front of all his tribe members. Once he had you in the perfect position, his soldiers began to file into the room. He couldn't help but notice how your warm, tight hole was becoming slick. Unbeknownst to you, his thick cock was already buried deep within you.

The meeting unfolds seamlessly. With nightfall as their ally, they conspire to dismantle the impenetrable walls of the Kingdom on the morrow. A sacred covenant governs The Mammoth Clan, dictating that the fairer sex and the innocent offspring shall be spared from any affliction. Thus, the innocent shall be granted mercy and protection.

Awakening towards the end, your pussy pulsating and enveloping something thick and long. A twitching motion stirs inside you, nudging your G-spot. A soft moan escapes your lips as you hide your face in his neck. Loran dismisses it as your mere awakening, soothingly caressing your back. Only a fool would miss the evidence of your arousal - the glistening juices trickling down your bare thighs and the hint of green meeting a clenching hole

" Dismissed. "

The orcs file out of the room, speaking amongst each other. Loran's gaze descends upon your petite frame, concealed beneath his garments. He looks feral. Once the auditory commotion subsides, you cautiously lift your head, locking eyes with his penetrating stare.

"Loran, please."

The Orc emits a deep snarl, his lips forcefully meeting yours as he firmly grasps the flesh of your hips, hoisting you off his slick member. Swiftly, he plunges you back down, thrusting into you with fervor, fucking you onto him. You're moaning mess, the spit from your sloppy kiss sliding down your chin and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sound of wet slapping resonates loudly within the confines of the tent. With a gasp for air, you disengage from him, your hands finding solace on his broad shoulders.

A particular thrust causes the swollen, mushroom-shaped tip of his cock to abuse your g-spot and your moan is shrill. You climax, your body trembling around him, leaving a creamy, ivory ring at the base of his cock. Stars burst in your vision as you weakly press your lips against his throat, whimpering as he continues to thrust into you, your sensitive and throbbing core tender. " Lor-.. no more.. s’too.. much!" you sputter, sloppily pressing your lips to his and sucking on his large tongue.

Despite the roughness of his hips snapping into yours, he caresses your sides softly and pulls away from your kiss, licking his lips. "Be a good pet, hm? Let me use my pussy, can you do that for me? " You nod hesitantly, and he smiles, sending your stomach to unfurl languidly. "S'my good girl." You bury your face in his neck with a whimper, but when your blunt little teeth sink into his collarbone it pushes him over the edge; and he stands up with you still bouncing on his cock, thrusting so deeply that you hiss. Ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls, filling you up.

Loran's shallow thrusts ensure not a single drop is wasted as you envelop him in your embrace, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

Mayhap, the circumstance of being dispatched to this place was not as grievous as first imagined...

connected with this post!

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ozzgin · 2 months

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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.

-Doll

This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)

Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader

As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)

[Part 2]

You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.

A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.

Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.

This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.

You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.

"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.

He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.

Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.

The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.

You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.

His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."

Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.

What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #yandere demon king #yandere male x reader #gender neutral reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #yandere oc

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angelltheninth · 2 months

Text

What Goes Down in the Forest

Pairing: Male Forest!Monster x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, predator/prey dynamic, fear play, biting, size difference, creampie, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, rough sex, brat taming

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: It's raining right now so that puts me in a monster loving mood.

It was you who suggested this little game to him. The forest was his domain, he knew it like the back of his hand, moved through it seamlessly, with out any issue. And then there was you, you who kept tripping on logs, getting caught on crunches, slipping on the dirt all the while looking behind you to make sure you put enough distance between you and the tall monster chasing you.

To make sure you didn't get too lost he marked the trees you passed by every now and then. You didn't have to be scared of getting lost and even if you did you could rest assured he would bring you back home safe and sound.

"What are you so afraid of then?" The voice came from somewhere behind you. "Is is just adrenaline pumping through your veins that's making your heart beat so fast?" You heard him chuckle, "You don't smell very afraid to me. Horny little human, getting your kicks from something like this. I knew I chose right."

The trees and the wind carried and obscured his voice, still making it impossible to know how close he was. This forest, you learned, worked how he wanted it to.

Everything in here was his. Including you.

You stepped back without looking, your foot catching on the thick tree roots. You yelped, expecting a hard hit. Instead you felt strong arms wrap around you, shielding you from impact. "Are you alright?" His voice calmed you, as deep as it was.

You meet his eyes, deep green in a sea of stormy gray, filled with worry. In his forest you were under his protecting, just like everything else. "Pet, are you hurt anywhere?"

"Ah, no. I'm alright. Thank you for saving me. That... that was lame." You ducked away from his gaze only for one big, clawed hand to cup your cheek. His lips, and upper fangs, pressed against your lips, soothing your worried, "Did I ruin the mood?"

"Does it seem like you did? Look." He gazed down to his cock, still very hard between his legs, aching to be inside you. "I want you, clumsiness and all." He assured you in-between kisses. "Can you run for me again? Put up a fight for me? Or shall I take you as you are? You smell more then ready enough." His hands grabbed both of your hips and lifted you up, his nose pressing against your pants and breathing in the horny scent between your legs.

As much as you wanted to give in right now he just asked you to run for him. So you will run, you will fight and you will get him to rut into you until you can't walk.

You pushed on his slightly curved, dark green horns, feeling the intertwined branches and leaves under your fingers. They wrapped around his horns and his head like a crown, almost giving him an air of royalty, or a god. Truth be told you still don't know if he's either of those. All you knew was that he was the protector of this place.

Gripping his horns tight you wrestled his head away which elicited a deep groan from him. He snarled at you when you kicked him away and started running again, in any direction your legs carried you in.

Before you knew it you were out of breath again. Panting you leaned against a tree. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" The tree had claw marks on it! How the hell did you get turned around?! Was this a trick? He did say he liked to toy with his prey.

Or he somehow ran ahead of you and marked this tree before you got to it. Which meant you needed to run back. Unless that's what he wanted you to think! He was playing mindgames with you, and you weren't in the mood. The blood was not going to your brain at this time.

Two strong hands gripped you from behind the tree, one on your mouth, muffling your screams, the other around your hip, keeping you pinned. "Kicking me in the face? Brave human." His voice was now next to your ear. It was then that you realized that the voice and the arms wasn't coming from behind the tree but from inside it. A male body pushed itself from the bark, stepping next to you but your hands and mouth were still pinned, still closed.

He could do that?

As he looked at you in that helpless state he smirked, his pointy teeth catching your eye, "I'll have you know I've killed people for far less." He tilted his head as he bent closer, his eyes roaming across your body. "Lucky for you, I value the pleasure you provide."

"Do you? Because I haven't gotten any in a while. What would you do if I ended our contract?" You smiled at him, watching his cock stir in protest. "Who would fuck you then? You'd have to wait for some other poor human to get lost in here. But if you can make me feel good now, I might reconsider." The truth was you could do this, if you were an asshole or didn't love your boyfriend. But this was part of your game, you egged him on, wanting to see how he would react.

"And you think I would allow you to walk out of my life just like that after I made you mine? Everything in this forest is mine from the moment it steps foot in. That includes you, my pretty human cocktoy." His hand lazily stroked his cock as he approached you. "I decide if you leave here walking, or carried in my arms, with my cock still inside you. And since you don't seem to understand that I will have to remind your cunt who truly owns it."

His nails turned into sharp black claws and tore through your pants. The cold air hit you immediately. You watched as the green of his eyes eclipsed almost all of the gray.

"Wet and ready. Just how I want you." He growled as he grabbed your leg and pushed it up, revealing your dripping pussy to him. "There it is. My prize."

Rough hands held both your legs open as his cock pushed inside with single smooth stroke. His own pre-cum made it easier then ever before, you could already feel his seed coating your inner walls. "I love how you split me open with your cock." You had to get used to the size, the thickness, the slight structure of it that dragged and stimulated your pussy with every thrust.

His horns grew at your praise, hips pushing closer until they were flush against your own. "I love how well you take me. As if you were made only for me. My cock. My seed. My offspring. Yes... I should... maybe if I put a damn bastard child in your womb you'll see how much you love me."

Your back arched and pussy squeezed around him immediately. You didn't have to say you wanted it now, your body was doing it all for you. "Are you sure it's possible?"

"I will make it possible." He snarled. He pulled back until only the tip remained and then slammed in at full force. Again. And again. And again. "My seed will take." The truth was you were pretty sure it was quite difficult between you two. If you could have gotten pregnant easily you would already be pregnant. He hated condoms. "I'll make you swell with it."

As his pace increased the forest echoed with your moans, the wet pussy squelches, skin slapping against skin, the sound of wood being broken and healed. You pulled against the rough bark around your wrists, aching to get closer to your lover.

His claws dug into your meaty thighs, marking you once again.

It wasn't enough for him. No mark was ever enough for him. As soon as one healed he put a new one in his place. "Tell me you accept it, human. Tell me how much your womb wants my seed." He pushed in all the way, letting you feel his cock pulsing inside you, then pulled out, in and out, deep and long strokes that made your breath hitch. "Tell me!"

The booming voice made your body flinch and your cunt spasm around him. "Fuck! Don't stop now, keep fucking my pussy! It feels good, I-" You whimpered, taking in a quick breath.

He wasn't calming down, wasn't letting your orgasm end, pistoning in and out of you and clenching his teeth to hold his own orgasm back until you told him you wanted it.

"I want you to put a baby in me. Fuck me. Breed me full of your cum. Make sure every human, animal and demon knows it was you who got me pregnant, that it's your kid I'm carrying." The forest itself shook and awoke with his deep, guttural roar. "Right in there, right in my pussy, fuck it all in."

"Not a drop will go to waste." He promised as his hips came to a stop against yours, his arms finding the small of your back as your legs wrapped around his broad hips, feeling the soft fur starting at his hips and running down his legs. It was soft and sticky with cum. It should have been gross, but you loved how it was evidence of your love making. Simultaneously the bark around your aching, bruised wrists dissolved, which allowed you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your hands into the long black hair that run to his shoulders. "You know I love you. I truly do wish to have a family."

"Maybe it'll work this time. If not we can always keep trying." His forehead pressed against yours, "Hey, even if we can't I won't think less of you. You're the love of my life. And it's not like you see couples like us in nature a lot."

"Nature is supposed to bend to my will. At least in here." His nose brushed against yours, "Let me carry you home."

"Okay. But don't pull out yet. I'm comfy." He chuckled at your cuddly nature. He shared it, so he couldn't blame you. When he walked with you he left new flowers everywhere his foot stepped.

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