#yandere monster fanfiction

[bunnis-monsters]

hi can you do a jealous monsterxreader? hehehehe where the monster becomes jealous of the reader's friend.

NSFW

warning: somnophilia, dubcon, oral(f!receiving), breeding, slight yandere behavior

If he hadn’t of seen it with his own four eyes, the monster living under your bed might not have believed it.

There was a male in your room, laughing with you, touching you… being way too familiar with you for his liking.

You had been living in the home for a few years now, and he had come to see you as a sort of mate. So it was almost disrespectful that you brought another… male into your nest.

Although the male did not try and mate with you, the monster still stared at it with utter hatred. If your friend didn’t leave soon, he would not be able to hide his presence any longer, because he would slaughter him.

Thankfully, your friend got a call from his roommate asking to be let in, so he left. A soft purr emanated from his chest as he watched the man leave.

Now it was just you and him, like it was supposed to be. Other people being in the picture only made things complicated. When it was just you, scrolling through your phone and trying to get off all on your own, he could relax, his cock hardening at the scent of your arousal.

His poor mate always had trouble making herself cum, so he climbed into your bed once you went to sleep unsatisfied.

He rubbed his face against your neck, making sure his scent covered you before pushing your wet panties to the side.

Soft, long licks to your cunt had you squirming in your sleep, whining bit. His long, tentacle like tongue could reach the parts of you that you couldn’t, making you cum easily.

Usually, he’s just help you get off before stroking his cock over your pussy and cumming all over your clit before putting your panties back on… but tonight he was feeling possessive, snarling slightly as he inhaled the male’s scent still lingering in the air.

“Mine…” he murmured as held onto your hips, positioning his thick cock at your entrance, rubbing against it. “Gotta claim you… shh…”

He shoved his tongue into your mouth, exploring it thoroughly before pulling away to smile down at your sleeping form.

Being the monster under your bed, he had a sleeping agent in his spit. You wouldn’t wake up now, no matter how hard he fucked you.

He impaled you with his cock, a purr rumbling in his chest as he comforted you with sweet, loving kisses to your neck and chest. You were his mate, he didn’t want to hurt you after all, he just needed to make sure others knew who you belonged to!

Once you loosened up a bit, he rolled his hips into yours, whimpering into your ear. You were just so tight and warm, and all he wanted to do was breed with his beloved! Just the image of your belly nice and swollen with his young was enough to have him rutting into you uncontrollably like the monster he was.

His dark skin glistened with sweat as your pussy clenched around him. He fucked you through your orgasm, cooing as he whispered praise to you.

“My precious little mate, taking me so well… oh, how I love you… no one will take you from me, I promise I’ll have you swollen with my young by the end of the month…”

With that, he painted your walls with his hot, thick cum, filling you until it spilled out onto the bed. He purred, nipping and sucking on your neck as he rode out his high, making sure you were covered in hickeys. He was extra careful with his sharp teeth, unable to even think of hurting his love.

No one would be able to question if you had a lover now… you were absolutely drenched in his scent, and he couldn’t be happier to see your satisfied expression as he cleaned you up and tucked you back into bed.

Keeping his mate happy was all he wanted, really, and he was ready to reveal himself, come the following night.

Hopefully… you’d understand and accept your time… because you were his mate, bonded to him forever.

Whether you liked it or not… but by the way you cling to him as he attempted to pull away, you sleeping face pouting slightly, he knew that you would love him… and all the ways he could pleasure you.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Past the Point of No Return

Yandere Fae Enemy General x Healer Fem Reader

TW: Yandere themes, yearning, delusional behavior, etc.

Corvin Fausto it was never one to believe in fate. He truly believed he’d never find his destined one since he lived a life of war. He was the young general of the fae army and lead them to numerous victories against the invading humans… but their elven brethren that turned their backs on the fae and began to help the humans. Which made this war suddenly shift against the fae. A betrayal the fae could not forgive the once peaceful elves for.

He was able to hold the enemy forces back long enough to escape, but they had damaged his wings beyond immediate repair. He’d likely have to go into hiding for a few months until he’d recover… but how? He was being relentlessly hunted by humans.

Corvin hid himself in a small cave, hopeful he could rest here for a while without getting caught… but his hopes were dashed when he saw the form of a young woman tilt her head at him in curiosity.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Corvin didn’t dare speak when a young elf appeared before him. Her beauty was unparalleled, but her ears were much smaller than most elves… she was a half elf.

(Your name) gasped at his wounds in shock. She quickly reached into her satchel to pull out various salves to put on his wounds.

Corvin made an attempt to try to push her away, but he was so weak from blood loss. The last thing he saw was her smiling face as she reassured him with her soft words, “it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

When Corvin came to, he was shocked to find himself in a warm cabin rather than in the forest. His eyes were wild as he searched around but he quickly winced when he shifted his wings too sharply. Corvin was surprised to be patched up and cleaned… where was his armor?

“Oh! You’re awake!” Corvin whipped his head around to spot (your name) leave her bedroom, a soft smile on her lips. “Are you hungry? I have some soup over the fire-“

“I’m your enemy.” Corvin told her with a glare. “You should have left me to die-“

Corvin was shocked when (your name) shook her head and gave him a smile. “That doesn’t matter. You still needed help and it’s my job as a healer to help the wounded.”

Corvin was surprised when she went over to the hot cauldron to pour him a bowl of soup. The half elf placed the bowl beside him. “You can recuperate here for the time being. I’m helping you simply because I want to.”

“My name is Corvin Fausto. What’s your name?”

“I’m (your name).” She gave him a gentle smile that reminded him of spring. And for the first time in Corbin’s long life, he felt his heart flutter.

Corvin hesitantly drank the soup before he smiled softly to himself. He’s never received such care before… did he truly deserve her kindness?

As the days melted into months, Corvin grew attached to (your name). She was kind yet she was stern. Her care never had ulterior motives yet she also didn’t allow him to disrespect her because of her race. She fascinated him. For the first time in his life, Corvin was enthralled.

Corvin found himself helping her around the humble abode. He’d clean, gather herbs with her, fetch firewood, or help her cook. It was such a domestic life together that Corvin slowly began to wonder if she’d want to continue to live a life like this with him. Would she want an idyllic life?

“It’s been really nice having you around, Corvin.” (Your name) beamed at the fae who blushed. His hands itched to intertwine with hers. “I think you have a week left until you’re fully healed!”

Corvin felt his blood run cold with the words. A week… did she want him to leave? He thought they had a special relationship. No. He wouldn’t let her go! (Your name) was his destined mate. The one he’s waited his whole life for… and he’d be damned if she rejected him.

“If you ever get injured again, my door is always open-“ (your name) is surprised when she’s suddenly pulled into his arms in a tight embrace. “Corvin?”

“Come back with me… no.” Corvin thought for a moment. His people would terrorize her if he brought her back, they could hurt her. He could abandon them right? The fae would understand… a destined one was a rule they all abided by. “Let’s just stay together here, in your cabin.”

(Your name) raised a brow. “What do you mean, Corvin?”

(Your name) felt her blood run cold at the crazed look in Corbin’s eyes. “We can live together here in your cabin, far from everyone… far from the war.”

Corvin glanced around the cabin with eagerness. “I think there’s space for two little ones… we can start our life here!”

(Your name) tried to pull herself away from his grip, but Corvin was latched on like a tick. “Corvin, you’re scaring me.”

“You’re my destined one.” Corvin replied in a breathy whisper. “That’s why you saved me despite me being your enemy… you saved me because you knew we were meant to be.”

[obsessivevoidkitten]

In The Minotaur's Maze

Male Minotaur Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Violently painful noncon, mild bleeding from sex, size difference, belly bulge from massively huge dick, mild mention of musk, stalking, kidnapping, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 980 (Tried to make a drabble, failed again with a mini-fic instead. Oops. This is one of my very few works, so far, that is technically fanfiction as Asterion is the canon name of the Minotaur in Greek mythology.)

You were a talented explorer seeking ancient relics for fame and fortune.

You used a combination of minor magic to speak to the dead and serious investigation to discern the location of the fabled Minotaur labyrinth.

It was deep within an enchanted cave system that in many ways served as an extension of the maze hidden away within.

You carefully navigated the treacherous caves until you came upon the secret entrance. You placed your hand in the middle of a smooth wall and uttered the magic incantation.

The wall dissolved in a flash of light, and you stepped through the entrance as the stone reformed behind you. This was it. You were in the maze proper. What secrets lie ahead?

Of course, you knew the legends of Asterion the Minotaur, but he had been slain in them. And nothing could live so long anyway, especially without food.

You navigated the stone corridors easily. Despite their age, they still looked brand new. As you continued on, you occasionally heard what sounded like hooves plodding along behind you.

You pushed it from your mind. Your imagination was playing tricks.

As you stepped around a corner, you came to a wooden door and opened it. When you stepped through, gone were the twisting stone paths filled with the scent of earth.

Instead, there was an ancient style dwelling overlooking some farmland growing a variety of trees, bushes, and vines.

The door you had come through was still behind you, you closed it and from this side it looked like a door to a shed. So the labyrinth had pocket dimensions… You had heard about them in passing. You wondered how large it was. The realm may look like an idyllic farm on earth, but if you went far enough away, you'd surely hit an invisible wall.

Perhaps the door to the house would lead further into the dungeon.

As you got closer, you realized how large it was. When you pushed the big door open, it actually was a house. Albeit with furniture that was made for someone very large.

Suddenly, you felt a hot breath at your neck. You turned to find the very large, naked Minotaur staring down at you. He was a hairy wall of muscle. One with the head of a bull, complete with metal tipped horns. His legs were covered in dark fur and ended in large hooves, and his full nutsack dangled beneath a frighteningly large prick.

Before you could react, the Minotaur grabbed you and pulled off all your clothing.

You had no idea how Asterion could have survived all this time. He had been killed!

But apparently, he hadn't gotten the memo.

In the past, he had consumed most humans that wandered into his labyrinthine prison, but you were bravely entering his home, his nest.

You weren't cowering like the old sacrifices. Well, you weren't before he grabbed you anyway.

That, combined with him being in rut and driven insane by thousands of years of isolation, made him not consider you as a meal for even a moment. You were firmly in the mate category in his brain.

So small and cute.

You writhed and fought to get out of his grasp but he ignored your greatest efforts as if they were nothing.

Asterion licked at your face as you pleaded with him to let you go.

He couldn't understand your language but he could guess at their meaning.

But he had no intention of ever letting this new mate of his go.

He tossed you down on the bed and you now saw what he intended to do.

His hard cock now at full arousal, as large and thick as a man's arm.

"No no no! Pleasepleasenono!!!" Your words blended together in a garbled panic as his musk hit your nose, sharp and dominating.

The only preparation your entrance received was a few gobs of slimy Minotaur saliva before he slammed inside you.

You shrieked.

It felt as though your entrance was on fire. As if it was being ripped apart.

With every thrust you shuddered in pain and sobbed. Nearly incoherent cries for mercy dribbled from your lips and fell on deaf ears.

You felt so warm and tight around him. This was just what he needed. Surely you had been sent to Asterion in his time of need by the gods. They finally, after eons, granted him mercy in the form of your insides.

So pliant to his girthy cock. Every time he dove back into you the outline could be seen in your stomach.

Tears streamed down your face as you silently wept, no longer able to scream or even babble your silly little pleas for it to stop.

Asterion wished he could tell you how well you were doing. That you were such a good cow for him. That you fit his cock so perfectly.

But he couldn't, so instead settled for licking and nibbling at your neck before wiping your tears away with his broad tongue.

With a final thrust he filled your belly visibly cum.

When he pulled out a torrent of his seed rushed down your thighs, it had noticeable streaks of pink from bleeding. You were such a fragile little thing compared to him.

He hadn't been able to hold back since that was the first time he had ever sought release inside of someone before, but he made note to be more careful.

Even though the breeding had stopped you were helpless. Broken. At least for the moment. You still cried silently, feeling utterly invaded and defiled.

Asterion took the time to lick you completely clean before laying down beside you and holding you close, spooning you with his mighty arm as you shook beneath it.

You came here to explore the deepest reaches of the maze... but had your deepest reaches explored instead...

[untoldstar]

male! yandere tentacle monster x fem! reader

warnings: nsfw content, non-consensual sex, obsessive behavior, yandere themes, stalking

The switch up between “it” “he” “they” might get confusing while reading but pls don’t be confused it doesn’t make much of a difference, it’s all the same. It switches a lot just to isolate what the tentacles do. The monster is referred to as “he”.

Further in the the shadows squelching sounds echo in the quiet room, the source unknown until they emerge, long and thick tentacles slowly slithering out of the shadows towards your bed unbeknownst to your peaceful sleeping form, they climb up the side of your bed moving closer and reaching for your figure, stilling as you stir in your sleep for a few more seconds before moving again.

The tentacle slowly leans towards your cheek, trembling slightly at the contact then moving down to your neck and dragging down your chest towards the blanket, gripping it and slowly dragging it down your body revealing the crop top and shorts you sleep in, it drags the blanket off leaving no part of you covered, dragging across the sheets up your leg and to your thighs caressing them, two other tentacles emerge from your left and right, trailing over your chest and gently brushing your hardening nipples through the fabric.

You groan squirming slightly in your sleep, another tentacles slides up your thigh caressing your inner thigh before moving to your center, rubbing your cunt through your shorts making a wet spot slowly form on them, it moves your shorts to the side to reveal your glistening cunt. A low satisfied growl echoing in your ear makes you frown in your sleep and stir even more, the tentacles slowly rubs your folds before sliding between them rubbing up and down your slit, the sound of your wetness overlapping with the ones of the tentacles sliding all over your body. You let out a quiet moan in your sleep “Wake up sweetheart..” You slowly start to stir awake at the deep voice echoing in your head. You look around to find the source of the voice even when sleep still clings on your eyelids. Your eyes are wide open and a gasp is caught in your throat when you take notice of the strange sensations all over your body, specifically the rubbing between your legs.

Long tentacles sliding all over your limbs, caressing, rubbing, squeezing, each one traveling further up your body almost getting caught up and tangled with each other. You felt like you were about to be consumed by them. Swallowed up and never let out. You let out a scream as you tug and pull your limbs away desperately trying to get out of their hold. you almost succeed in bolting out of your bed when you're yanked back by a new set of tentacles that seemed to emerge out of no where wrapping around your ankles, your hands being gripped tightly next and lifted above your head.

A cry escapes your throat and you continue flailing your limbs, shaking your head violently as tears stream down your face ���Shh there’s no need to be scared.” The voice echoes in your head. Not beside you. Above you. No where. It feels like its coming from inside you. You turn your head in every direction searching for the source of the voice but the room is empty aside from all the tentacles that are menacingly crawling towards your bed “What the fuck are you- let me go!” Tears stream down your face and a tendril enters your line of sight to wipe your tears away, softly stroking your cheek “Don’t cry..why are you so frightened, little one? I'm not going to hurt you.” You turn you head again “Where are you?!” The voice doesn’t seem to be coming from a specific direction instead from the inside of your mind, it feels like you're going insane “I’m here with you of course. if it's my voice that's confusing you it is inside your mind. It will always be inside your mind. Always with you."

You let out a surprised gasp as the tentacles returned to rubbing your cunt. You instinctively try to close your legs but they're pried apart again and you feel the tentacles tighten even more around your thighs to keep you still “You’re putting up quite the fight but your sweet cunt is still dripping for me.” He applies more pressure on your clit drawing out a moan from you “What..are you?” You pant out, fear lacing your tone “I’m exactly what you need.” You feel tendrils sliding up your leg to the waistband of you shorts, sliding them down then moving down to spread your legs wider “What you want..” Your shirt is lifted over your head “What you dream of” Two tendrils travel up your stomach to your breasts wrapping around and squeezing your nipples. Your back arches as you feel your self get overwhelmed from being touched in so many places “And you..” He drawls out “Are mine.” He growls, the tentacle that was rubbing your clit now moves lower to tease your your hole “I’ve been watching you in the dark for a long time, pet. I’ve refrained from touching you all this time but no more.” It continues teasing, rubbing tantalizing circles “Stop-” Your protest is cut short when you feel the tip being pushed in “I can make you feel so good, little one. I will. Tell me you that you want me to make you feel good and I will. I’ll make you feel what you haven’t before, I’ll reach all those places no one can” He pushes the tip in then pulls out slowly over and over again until you almost push your hips to chase the pleasure. Almost.

Lust clouds your mind and you feel yourself slowly leaning into temptation, your previous repulsion now replaced with desire. You're already getting desperate, the pleasure all over your body overwhelming but not enough.

You need more.

You felt a wave of shame wash over you, you wanted to know what it would feel like to give in to him. Whatever he is exactly. You aren't completely sure. You swallow and close your eyes “I..I want you to make me feel good.” Your voice is barely above a whisper but your face flushes at the verbal confession. The tentacle starts to slowly moves deeper inside you. Your breathing stops as you focus on the new sensation. It stops suddenly and draws out. Slowly. Agonizingly slowly. A frustrated whine escapes you “Do you want more? hm?” You nod quickly and hear a dark chuckle echo out “Of course I’ll give you more, anything for my little pet.” It pulls out one more time before plunging into your wet cunt drawing out a loud moan from you, it was thick and so fucking long, it was already going in so deep but it was still going like it wasn't planning on stopping “You clench around me so tightly. I knew your pretty little cunt would take me in so well.” You let out a string of moans, you feel your cunt being stretched out and with the tendrils groping your breasts, squeezing your hardened nipples and every single part of you body touched you already feel close, you jump and look down to see another tentacle moving down your stomach to your clit rubbing it before you feel suctioning on your clit “Ah! fuck- no..” It sucks harder “No?” You let out a sob “Too sensitive..” It rubs up and down your clit, each sucker pulling and letting it go with a pop each time the tentacle moves “But you want to cum don’t you?” You mumble incoherently as you nod “Then you can take it, pet. you can take me.” You nod again “That’s it..take it. Such a good pet. I'm never letting go of you.” The air gets knocked out of your lungs as you feel the tentacle reach the deepest part of you, you grind your hips helplessly as you feel yourself getting closer "You're getting close pet..I can feel it." The tentacles start moving in a speed that has you near sobbing and with your tits being groped an the sensation on your clit you're pushed over the edge cumming with your body writhing and your screams almost drowning out his own moans and growls of approval.

The fog in your brain doesn't fully clear even when the tentacles slow down and eventually come to a stop, even in your exhausted state you register the gentle caressing on your cheek "I'm never letting you go little one. You're all mine now."

[whore-ibly-hot]

Midsummer nights madness.

Yandere!Fae x Gn!eader (Inspired heavily by fairies from Midsummer Nighs Dream).

Minors dni

Warnings: Suggestive content; manipulation; magic; mythical beings; intoxication; drugging?; coercion; and one very clingy boy.

A/N: Was in a Shakespeare mood and fell in love with Puck, also known as Robin Goodfellow; from Midsummer Nights Dream. Thus, I tried this fic out. Please enjoy!

🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀

Brown, fallen leaves crunched under foot, the sun setting slowly just beyond the forest's dense canopy. Skipping down the muddied, beaten path is you, a simple peasant on a delivery run for the local apothecary. Your mother, a hermit widow and herbalist, was known in the county for her incredibly potent herbs, and her garden was unmatched. Despite how the people revered her work, she was never a social woman. Lately, she had become rather ill, and while she was at home curing herself, her deliveries still had to be made. Though it caused her great grief, though you were unsure why, she gave into your pleading to let you make the delivery.

"But mother, I'm perfectly capable of a small trip through the woods!" You had exclaimed. She only shook her head weakly, waving you away with her hand as she moved to grab the wicker basket of roots and plants. However, her ill state only becomes more evident when she suddenly collapses on the dirt floor of the hut. "Mother!" You cried, helping her trembling form stand. Walking her to her bed, she sits down, and sighs. "Mother, you're in no condition to deliver the herbs, please, allow me to go in your place!" You begged had begged. Begrudgingly, she had allowed you to take the ingredients, but not before slipping a small, worn scroll into your palm. "Remember the rules, my dear. The woods are not safe for anyone, much less someone alone, at the mercy of the night...". She had warned you off the usual dangers, wolves, bears, and thieves, but these simple natural occurrences did not seem to be what worried her most. The scrolls instructions were simple, and went as follows.

'Rule one, to prevent most danger, continue the path and speak to no stranger.

Rule two, if talking is their aim, always remember to not give your name.

Rule three, even if kindness they exude, from a stranger, never takes food.

Finally, rule four, if danger is discerned, touch them with iron, allow them to burn...'

While you must admit you weren't entirely sure about the Iron part, the other rules made sense. It was always best to avoid conversing with strangers in the woods. After having gotten a string of leather from your mother, one which she hung a ring of iron on, you had set off, leading to where you were in the woods now.

You sigh, taking in the fresh air of the forest around you. Being stuck at the cottage all day, allowed to walk no further than the garden, you didn't get too many opportunities to take in the beauty of nature. While initially you had been anxious about the woods, due to mothers warnings, they seemed rather peaceful. The sounds of a nearby stream paired with the gentle breeze make for a relaxing walk. As you hear a twig snap, you think nothing of it, until you look down, noticing that there is no twig under your woven sandal. Something else must have made that noise. You freeze, a feeling of ice in your veins spreading slowly as you look around, trying to discern the source of the noise. After a few seconds, something snaps again. You gasp, now sure that something is nearby. Clutching the basket to your chest, you begin to back away, and as your foot steps land just barely off the path, you hear scurrying. Convinced something is approaching, in a moment of panic you bolt.

Your light footsteps ring out, breathing growing heavy as you sprint away from the path, sandals rubbing harshly on your feet causing them to grow sore. The sound of the approaching beast grows quieter, but you continue to run. You whip your head back for just a moment, to see if you can catch a glimpse of whatever creature is stalking you, when you are suddenly thrown forward. You fall with a cry, slamming into the soft dirt of the forest floor, the contents of your basket scattering as they hit the ground with you. Still panicking, you ignore the pain and sit up quickly, your eyes following your now injured leg to what caused you to trip. Furrowing your brows, as you look closer, you realize you've tripped on some sort of mushroom. A small patch of blue and purple fungi rests where your foot was, stretching around you, as if forming a sort of ring. You hold your breath for a moment, straining as you try and hear any noise from the direction you came. You sigh when you hear nothing, assuming the wild animal has given up the chase in favor of another prey. Now that you feel slightly more secure, you wiggle your ankle a little, trying to work off any pain. Once you're convinced you'll be okay, you take a moment to steady your breathing. Looking to your left, you see the goods you were to give to the apothecary scattered amongst dirt and leaves, but your basket appears to be missing. You gasp, looking to your left and right for the basket, when suddenly a hand appears from behind you, offering you your basket from over your shoulder. You let out a terrified screech, whipping around and scrambling away from the mysterious figure, hands brushing against the edge of the mushroom ring.

As you tremble, your eyes focus on the figure before you. It is not a roguish thief, nor a golden-eyed beast, but rather a bare-chested, wild-eyed young man. He is squatted down on a stump in the center of the mushroom ring, head tilted with a mischievous smile as he peers down at your shaking form. Small horns emerge just past his head of wild, curly hair. Though shirtless, jewelry of animal bones and twigs adorns his neck and shoulders, with splotches of smeared ink and paint spread across his arms and pecs. He would be oddly alluring, if not for the paralyzing shock of his sudden appearance.

"W-who are you?" You exclaim, curling into yourself and staring up at him with a frightened gaze. The odd boy laughs, an impish sound, before leaning forward on his toes, allowing him to peer down at you. "Hmm, I don't know. You first!" He says, grinning as he looks at your face change from fear to confusion, your posture relaxing a little. "Me first...?" You repeat, before you gasp. Mothers scroll, you've already broken one of the rules, 'do not speak to strangers.' You mustn't break another by revealing your name. " I can't say. Besides, I asked you first." You speak out in a moment of boldness, and though his face falls for a moment, taken aback, he smiles once more. "Very well, mortal. They call me Puck, spirit of the northern wood, knave and jester-servant his majesty, the fairy king of the Seelie Court." You tilt your head, rather shocked at his introduction. "A spirit?" He nods. "A fae, in a more specific sense, though I doubt you mortals have an easy time discerning the difference." He sighs, hopping lightly off the oaken stump and shuffling closer to you. "A fae, what is that?"

He lets out a choked gasp at your questions, as if personally slighted. "What is a fae? Have you not heard the legends and tales of my peoples exploits from the drunks and gossipers of your townships, little mortal. We..." He pauses to stand and spread his arms wide, twirling once with a roguish glee. "We are the nurturers of nature, acolytes of the autumn and worshipers of the winter. You owe your fair green fields, evening rains and bountiful harvests to use, you know." He spins back around to face you, leaning down to meet your gaze. "I wonder how you've gone so long, living in neither awe nor fear of my kind." He ponders. You look away, upset about being reminded of your naivety of the outside world. You shrug. "I live with my mother, in no specific town. We are rather isolated, so we don't get the newest information." You explain, and Puck nods, a mischievous glint in his eye. You can't look past his whimsical aura to see the plan forming in his brain. "Aw..." He puffs out his lips, pouting. "Poor mortal, your homely duties allow you no knowledge of the world us fae give you? And no time for jest and entertainment? What a sad life." You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm quite fine with my life, I'll have you know. A-and I get out plenty, I'm delivering good for my mother right now!" You snap, feeling rather patronized by the spirit. He laughs, flopping his head to the side and sticking out his tongue. "You're lying, I can tell. We fae are very keen when sensing deception." "I'm not lying!" Puck only holds his hands up, as if giving you permission to remain in denial.

"Besides," You grab your mother's basket from his hands, ignoring his protests. You quickly begin to place the herbs and plants back into it, very concerned with both making your delivery and getting away from Puck. He seems nice, but... mother had warned you of strangers. As your hands rapidly sift through leaves and dirt, brushing off the produce, you stand back up. You move backwards, not turning your back on the spirit boy. "It's been... interesting to make your acquaintance, but I really must be going if I'm going to make my delivery and return home by nightfall." You attempt to bid Puck farewell and step back over the line of the mushroom ring, but as you do, Puck's eyes widen in momentary surprise. Jolting forward, the wild boy takes you quickly into his arms and leans over you, almost knocking you backwards with the sudden imbalance of your two forms now meshed together.

Despite his thin and lanky stature, his arms and body are surprisingly strong. You can feel his toned muscles press against you in this moment, as his surprise turns back to his grin. "Wait now, sweet mortal friend... there's no need to flee from Puck." He can clearly sense your nervousness, though you can't tell if he truly wishes to ease your fear or enjoys the power he holds over you. "Let me make you an offer-" "I should really-" "No, no, no... just give a spirit a chance, hear my offer before you decline me." He presses himself a little closer to you, though not in a way that makes you feel preyed on, persay. If any other man were to try and hold you to him like this, you would feel sick to your stomach, sure of the man impure and perverse intentions. With Puck though, even though you are frightened by his magical and impish nature, he touch feels almost... nice. He holds you to him, but not tight enough to be threatening, and his lanky limbs hanging from you makes the embrace playful. You open your mouth to speak, but close it, curiosity eating through your nerves. He leans in closely, shaking his head slightly and whispering his offer. "I'll take you to where your delivery is, the-" He pauses. "Apothecary." You finish. "Apothecary, and in turn, you will accompany me for a drink." He presses his forehead to yours playfully, invading your personal space for yet another time as he stares intently at you.

"Oh, no, no, I can't accompany you anywhere!" You take his moment of softness as he waits for a response as a chance to pull yourself from his grasp. To your surprise, he doesn't grin more or even pout at your refusal. Rather, his brows furrow and his smile fades. He seems genuinely disappointed, possibly even hurt. "And for what reason? Surely not for your delivery, as I promised to take you there quicker than any mortals legs could carry them." He inquires. You shake your head. "While I appreciate it, I'm not supposed to speak to strangers, much more accept things from them! My mother says-" He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, your mortal mother told you. If I recall, you told Puck that you and your mother know nothing of spirits and fae, so how can you truly know she speaks an accurate portrayal of my people?" He sighs. "I often find the mortals fear us more than they need, just think of me, for example. Has this shadow done anything to offend your nature or kind thus far?" You pause, but then shake your head. "And I'm sure you've broken some of her rules..." You gasp, looking up at him with a bit of a glare, causing him to laugh as he falls back onto the stump. "How did you know about the rules she gave me?" You ask. "I had your little basket with more for quite some time, gave me plenty of time to read." He says. From his hair, he pulls out the worn scroll, and rolls it open, turning to shield it from you when you lunge to get it. "Rule 1, hmm. Well, you've spoken to me, so consider that rule broken." He tears off the top of the scroll, making you groan in frustration. "Rule 2, you've told me no name, so consider that one intact." He moves down to the third rule. "Rule 3, says to accept no food from me, but... it says nothing about a drink...?" He pauses, looking at you. "I- fine, I will accompany you, but I must be home by midnight!" He hops up, and in a rush of glee he throws you up into the air, spinning you in his arms. When he places you back down, still embracing you, it takes you a moment to catch your breath. "You have my word, little mortal, and a faes promise is a powerful thing."

🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀

Several hours later, (though you yourself have lost track of time), you find yourself with Puck, sitting on a smooth rock just beside a waterfall, which leads into a stream. Various flowers of all shapes and colors bloom around you, with one of them producing the sweet nectar which Puck has so graciously been serving the two of you. Despite your initial fear, this evening has been rather enjoyable. Puck tells you much of his life and his people. You learn his works directly under the king, serving as a companion and jester. He regales you with tales of his exploits, from curdling the milk of a farmer mid-drink to scaring a nun into believing she was haunted, nearly driving her mad. He tells you of the king and queen's affairs, the queen's bitterness and the king's anger. You smile, feeling the nectar relaxing you with every sip as you grow sleepy, time becoming of no importance. "More nectar, my mortal friend?" He asks, extending a cup of petals to you. You shake your head, waving him off weakly. "No, I couldn't... truly." He nods and places the vase away.

"Now, what of your home? Tell me what is it a lonely mortal like you does all day?" He inquires, leaning back as he stares at you. "Mmh, I'd tell you if I could think right now, but in all honesty I think this drink is affecting me... perhaps mortals like me are more weak to it?" You ask. Puck chuckles, he himself is calmed by the drink, when he notices your flushed face. Your eyes are dropping, the majority of your body weight leans against the rocks behind you. He often enjoys the drunken antics of his fellow fae, and though he knows mortals to be quite quicker to become inebriated with fae drink, he hadn't expected you to succumb so quickly. In truth, he had only given you a small amount compared to himself, but then he supposed you must not even drink much human ale. "Puck?" You mumble, looking at him through your hooded lids. He is shaken from his thoughts, and nods for you to continue. He tries to focus, but finds your once shy form now relaxed and happy quite charming. "S' getting late, I think... could you take me home?" You ask, slurring your words a little. In truth, he had planned to get the attractive little mortal in a drunken fever with fae ale, and in your combined lustful state enjoy a night of pleasure, before leaving you to find your way back to your human hovel. However, as he argued with you in that mushroom ring, and invited you out, he found himself growing more and more attached, your naive mannerisms and innocence providing a contrast to his wild and knavish behaviors. Now, as you ask for him to return you to your home, he feels the same aching inside him he first felt when you had pulled away from him. He bites his lip, one of his hands wringing and tugging at his leafen skirt, his eyes full of conflict. After a few moments, he swallows, and begrudgingly nods, before attempting to put on his usual grin and try to see unbothered.

"Very well, my mortal friend. Come into my embrace and I shall lead you through these woods to your little mortal abode." He only opens his arms a little, before grunting as you flop into his arms, any resistance sober you would have had completely voided by your drunken stupor and need for warmth. It was rather cold in these woods at night. Puck is taken aback, usually he was the on invading space and hanging uncomfortably off those around him, often being scolded for his perverted clingyness, even among the rather wild and lustful fae. He halts his breath for a moment, before a genuine smiles spreads across his face, though he tries to conceal it behind his smug grin. As his cheeks warm up, he shakes his hair, hoping to cover some of it with the brunette locks. His arms come to sneak under your legs, picking your tired form up and beginning his brisk pace towards your home, which you had described earlier. He knew of it, (as he was sure he'd stolen some herbs from there for some not-so-innocent pranks.)

Upon arriving to your home, he moved silently through the front door, entering your room and gently placing you against your sheets. He places one of the thinner covers over you, pausing to admire your form. Just then, the door behind him opens. Your mother peers in, a look of worry fading as she sees you tucked into your bed, having safely returned from your errand. Though knowing he can't be seen by her, Puck remains still. Once your mother leaves, shutting the door softly behind her, he waits until her footsteps disappear before turning back to you. You groan, and shuffle further under the covers, before looking up at him. "Puck... how come I can see you but mother can't?" He doesn't answer for a moment, as if unsure whether or not to tell you of his trick to scare you into that faery ring with the sounds of a beast, making himself visible to you as your crossed the rings magical threshold. In the end, he decides not to. "Perhaps you're just special?" He suggests with a smile, making you blush. As he looks at you, he clenches his hands, resisting the urge to take you in his arms once more and take you back to the king with him. 'Not yet, not now.' he tells himself. He turns to leave, but your soft voice stops him once more. "Puck?" He nods, turning to face you. "Will you come back and see me?" He feels his heart swell at your request, and he nods. "Of course, you have this fae's word." He flourishes with a bow. You giggle. "And a fae's promise is a powerful thing, right?" You repeat what he had said earlier.

He nods, and with a small gust of wind, disappears behind the blowing of a curtain.

🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀

[running-with-kn1ves]

BELONGINGS

Orc x Kidnapped human reader (Gender neutral)

A/N: Literally NO ONE asked for this but I kept seeing all those shrek/swamp romance tiktoks and got inspired to do some orc stuff. Man I love orcs... like big dumb bugs personified. (also ignore the experimental latin pet names idk what im doing)

CW: Kidnapping, forceful holding, arson, raiding, kind of just angst fluff?

Word count: 2600

You knew the excitement of your life would never move past the blandness of day-in day-out work to survive, not as one without any bestowed or taught brow-raising talents that could lift you away from the mundane daily life you held in the wispy fields of the woodlands. 

As a realist you concurred that you’d never be the breadwinner in your family, maybe not the strongest when hauling crops, or the smartest when it came to solving passed down arithmetic equations from your cousins’ old school books. But as a child you always took comfort in the thought ‘at least I won’t be chained down, won’t be tied to some ugly pig farmer for a couple shillings.’ Your family valued you that much; well-- your working hands, that much. ‘One more body is one more mouth to feed’ you were told time and time again, but you pulled your weight and then some. 

You had little time to think outside of planting, weeding, bathing and eating. Meals and getting rid of the dirt covering your soles that you were scolded for after hours of being in the damp pastures were the only down time you had to yourself, not surrounded by the screaming nieces and nephews you were expected to take care of when the elder of your family members eventually passed from whatever disease ran rampant in the village the coming winter. You prepared your life, prepared for taking care of others and continuing your hard work in growing what you needed to survive, and selling what you didn’t. 

Unfortunately, that humdrum future was wiped out by swirling flames and the braying of stallions of mountainous size. They came in, trampling the greening cranberry bush you were planning to keep all to yourself, and the cabbages your family would have relied on for meals for the next two months before winter fell. 

Persimmon trees were burnt to crispy thorned stumps, the lush of your family’s acres now shredded to flecks of dead grass and muddy hoof prints, along with humanoid footsteps far too large to resemble any of the humans or disfigured hybrids in your teensy rural hamlet. Who were these unwelcomed strangers, the enormous creatures of the night that disrupted the only human civilization for miles around? You remained clueless for the entirety of being ripped out of your bed, continuing to be hauled over some olive-colored shoulder and thrown into a sack on the back of a wagon. 

“This one.” You heard, right before your dirty finger nails were pulled away from your twin beds fading sheets you desperately tried to keep. You had even managed to bring a small, lumpy pillow along with you, the creature that slung you over their shoulder leaving no assumption of a notice. You witnessed the still-burning remnants of your frail thatched home, as the silhouette of a muscular man lowered a flamed stick to its leftovers. 

The entirety of the bumpy ride to wherever your captors were bringing you to, you could only think of the fires holding onto the greenery of your land, of the dirt and rubble and smoke that clawed at your feet when you tripped into the wagon, burnt air choking you as a baby screamed out for its mother. 

Hours must’ve passed before you were brought into this musky, dank room with other fading faces from your village, but it only felt like a few moments ago that you heard the crackling of a fiery tree crushing rows of perking crops. 

The snapping of fingers nearly as grimy as your own blocked your recollection of clouded smoke and angry flames, bringing your attention back to the leather hut you sat domestically within. It was damp and dark inside, the light of torches outside being the only form of light. That, and the reflection of the metal on the warrior in front of you. He turned back, thumbing toward you as he looked at a similar creature.

“Agh, its no use, practically fucking deaf this one. Sure you don’t want one of the mothers?” 

The other orc slapped his fellow warrior on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. 

“No, my friend. Besides, sweet things’ only other option is Brutus. Don’t think he could last with one of these poor creatures without splitting it in two; ‘specially this one.” 

You were suddenly and acutely aware of the orcs conversation, now that your fate was being so clearly decided in front of you. 

The first, far sootier orc patted his fellow brethren on the chest as he turned away with a look that showed he was hardly convinced. Yet, he still walked out of the tented hut, ducking slightly to fit under it. 

You watched him leave, feeling a sense of relief as the threat had been removed. And yet, there was still one so prevelantly in front of you. 

“Hey there.” A guttural, almost faltering voice murmured to you. 

Eyes growing wide, you gripped harder onto the smushed pillow in your lap, instinctively leaning your upper body backward to get away from the orcish face right in front of you. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” The orc gruffed, falling to a crouch as he watches you slide to the edge of the hut’s leather wall. “Just wanna see you up close.”

He consumed the entirety of your fearful attention, his existence like a heavy weight in the room as the quiet tension aimed at him. You pushed your head painfully against a wood pole behind the leather walls, trying to morph your body any distance away that would provide you a miniscule fraction of comfort. But none came, especially not when a sudden warm finger pushed into your cheek. The green thumb pulled your upper lip, showing the ends of your teeth. Your other cheek smushed into your eye as the orc did the same to the other side, observing your poor excuse for chompers compared to his large, well-groomed tusks. 

“Guess these’ll do. You can atleast chew meat, right?” he pulled your jaw open gently, making your lips part. “Don’t wanna have to feed you like a baby bird; though, that wouldn’t be the worst of troubles.” 

You slapped his hand away, grimacing at the idea of being fed by this beast-creature. 

“I can eat perfectly fine.” You grumble, noticing how stiff the orcs arm was, still holding out beside your face as it rests dejected. “What does that matter, aren’t you going to eat me anyway?”

You keep a frown on your face, glaring up at the crouched brute. 

He let out a hearty laugh, those around you turning away from their miserable memories to face the strident disturbance. 

“So cute, as if you’d be enough to feed an orcling!” He let out another chestful of a laugh, grabbing at your cheek this time with a pinch. “My little to-be spouse, I knew you’d be worth the trouble.”

Wincing in pain, your fingers came up to try and pry his rough, printless thumb off your salty skin. 

“So adorable,” He throatily squealed, dragging you closer by the cheek to stumble into his chest. The only thing covering the caverned flesh of deep holes and ravined slices in his skin were straps of bull leather, and the furs of cottontails sewn to form a thin shawl around his bulky shoulders. 

He smelled of a foreign musk, the slight piquant scent of his skin being swallowed in by your nostrils as your lips smushed against the dip in the middle of his chest. Something sharp poked into the side of your face as you were held tightly against the orc, making you muffle against him to let you go. 

“You’re right you’re right; we should have some privacy-- and you, should get a chance to see your new home. My home.” He huffed against your ear, humid breath making your neck sweat as tusks touched the top of your head. “Name’s Xerxes, don’t forget it-- make sure you tell it to any orcs that try n’ talk to you.”

“Wait now--” Your aimed attempt of protesting was cut wrongly short by the sudden grab of your ankles, Xerxes beginning to stand back up as he dragged you with him. Before you knew it you were upside down, hollering as fat fingers made their way around your tibia. A shoulder jutted into your soft stomach, throat heaving as Xerxes began to move. You saw your lone pillow left on the ground, growing farther away as the large legs belonging to your captor moved from below your vision.

With every huge step he took, the harsh necklaces of teeth (which you prayed belonged to animals) dug into your side-- huh, so that must’ve been what was scraping against your face earlier. They clinked together as he walked, his body so rigid and unorthodox that he made a sound whenever he moved, whether it be a snorted grunt or the stomp from his feet, or the shift of his clothes and sheathed weapons. 

Xerxes didn’t open the leather flap of the hut sahe carried you out, walking straight as it brushed across your head. You shut your eyes in an unavoidable flinch, but the orc hardly noticed as he adjusted you on his shoulder, grabbing right below your thighs to hold you steady. 

The brilliant idea of beating and scratching his back enough to get free was so enticing you were on the brink of trying it-- but the orc standing outside the hut you just left, the unfamilliar darkness of the grasslands surrounding you, made you think twice. 

And just like that, your world spun and you were tossed inside what must’ve been another tent, a blur of oranges from fiery torches and grey browns of animal hide entering your vision. Something soft hit your back as you let out an ‘oof!’ from the depths of your chest. 

You scrambled to get back up, alert now that you were thrown in some different environment. But as you clambered to look around, whipping your head from side to side, all you saw were reddish walls of leather and two warm torches, along with the occasional spread of a map or a scribed foreign language.

This tent was much smaller than the last, not meant for a community to rest in. Instead, it was about the snug and spacious size of a room for only one to sleep in. The softness of hairs touched your palms, layers upon layers of furs covering beneath you to create a small lump of a warm, makeshift bed. 

“Look at this,” An excited, guttural voice begged of you. “Been keeping it since forever; saw it in some… abandoned goblin grotto, once. Couldn’t help but take it with me as a memento. As soon as I saw it, I just knew it’d be the perfect gift for my future amasiuncula.”

You could taste the lie on your tongue, as if it was thick in the air once he spoke it. Orcs didn’t just ‘find’ things, the destruction of your teensy village showed you that much. But that didn’t matter, not when the piercing blue of a silk fabric dazzled at you. Why, you had never seen something so plush in your life. It was surely just a base blanket-like piece likely once spooled for the future of becoming some sort of clothing or undergarment; it was still so silkenly smooth nonetheless. Your fingers traced the perfect fabric, its sensation nothing you had ever felt in your years of living as a farming peasant. The softest thing you’d ever touched were the baby calfs your far neighbors had bred into existence. 

“See how soft it is?” Xerxes said with a slight sputter, bringing the silk to your cheek. “Like a cloud… it’s yours. My engagement present.”

You looked back up at him bewildered. “Engagement?” 

“A present. Orc tradition is to offer a gift of richness; the wealthiest thing I could get my hands on.” He covered you in the silk, wrapping your shoulders in it as he pulled you from the furs to his bare lap. You would’ve resisted given the chance, but the orc smugly kept the silk around your arms, bringing the other side of it to wrap around you, pulling it tight; you could hardly move yourself now, shoved in this warm softness of a cocoon; it frightened you. But the tusks pressed against your cheek, chewed lips touching your temple as a tongue gently poked out to swiftly press against your skin, made you fear something else more. “Always wanted a human..” The orc exhaled, audibly sniffing in the scent of your hair. “Been looking for a good once for a while now. One that’ll be nice and docile, a sweet little foal for me to enjoy--” 

You slid your arms against the suffocating silk that was beginning to build heat. “I don’t think i’m what you’re looking for, besides I’m not--”

“Oh but you are,” Xerxes cut you off, leaning his orcish face close to yours to make you look at him. “So.. soft, your skin is like obsidian smoothed and frosted by the tumbling of waves of the sea, so polished and spotted I can’t help but want to keep it in between my fingers.”

Beads hung low by his neck, attached to rings of metal that pierced large holes in his pointed ears. The black and silver balls that dangled would jingle when he moved his head to get a better look at you, along with the wire and metal ornaments wrapped around the braids in his hair. Despite the undercut he fashioned (that you could see better now), a great mane of thick brown hair traveled to his shoulders, tickling your neck as he squeezed you closer. You felt almost like a baby, swaddled and pressed close to his large beating heart that thumped against your shoulder. 

“And oh your dainty little fingers and toes, when I saw them peeking from your bedsheets I knew grabbing them with would be no mistake.”

The orc nuzzled into you with his flat nose, warmth spreading against your cheeks as his sunken face created friction. You always sort of thought your fingers were quite round, your toes a little mishappen, but compared to him, your entirety was merely like a child’s straw doll’s. 

“I don’t want to marry you!” You blurted, freezing as the orc kept himself nestled against you. “I wanna go home, I want to go back to my bed and forget this-- I'm not some little trinket to mate with!"

Xerxes gave you a look. It was so smushy, an embarrassed grin like some pubescent boy watching his crush undress. It was perverted, so snickeringly crude as he bit his lip at the word "mate."

Ahh, he heard his fellow warriors, his chief in command even, discuss their "mates" with lustful wonder and candied eyes that danced with images of their beloved, their spouse. He had never had a person, never had a soft warm thing at night to hold, for him to bully himself into; it was hard to contain the joy inside of him, even with your rapid repeating of "no no no!"

"Mate…" He repeated. 

"I said NOT to--"

"But you said it; and now… I can't get it out of my head, dulcis." Xerxes was snug against your wiggling chest, pressing his freckled cheek against yours to make your lips pucker. He was unbelievably, fiery warm, with a heat under his skin that you wondered was just a layer of embers. 

The mixture of the orcs body heat and the humid equinox night made sweat cling to your dirty skin, the satin coddling you now feeling stickier.  “Now, I s’pose its time we get you looking like a proper orc, smelling like one too. Like me,” Xerxes pressed his tusked mouth below your ear, protruding lips pressing a deep, slightly nipping kiss to below the corner of your jaw. “Get rid of this disgusting… exhilarating human stench.”

[r0-boat]

Birdie Bride

Sfw Yandere!Harpy! Larry x GN!reader

Cw: slight yandere, (no killing or harm towards reader just watching them and kidnapping)

Gendered nickname: Wife (Larry does not know anything about humans)

Author's notes: yandere Larry is easy mode. I see him being a very light yandere. The most he'll do is kidnap you really and stalk you, but that's about it. So, you people who don't really like yandere's for their overbearing and murdering nature I feel like you enjoy this one.

Gentle claws brush against your cheek. Sharp jet-black eyes gaze down at you, taken in your unconscious form sprawled out in his nest. Curiosity took over the creature's mind as he tried to figure it out. Who or what are you? He had always watched you from afar his, his claws digging into the bark of a tree, watching you, studying you, a craving to satisfy a need to creep closer. 

Now that he had found you unconscious in that weird, thin hide cage. Larry could finally fully drink you in, cause gently prodding your hair and pawing at each strand to find out a single feather; at the same time, his own talons graze through his own black and white hair as if he was comparing mammalian hair to his mixed concoction of human hair and avian feathers.

He wasn't done. However, his claws gently grazed against your skin down your arm as if meticulously looking for a single feather on your skin.

You were not a harpy, it was evident, not a single feather on you. Your Talons were dull and flat, and when he gently pressed his thumb against your lip to inspect your teeth you had no Sharp things to rip and tear through meat, feeling your soft fleshy lips in the process.

You were not a harpy, but he can't deny the Primitive feeling he felt when he caught a whiff of your scent, even now as he pressed his nose against the nape of your neck, his black and white wings puffed up, his eyes open and softened.

Intoxicating.

If not, mate, then why is his body reacting this way? Why is his heart pounding in his chest? His face flushed with heat, instinctually letting out a low-throated cooing noise. He wanted more. Larry wasn't sure what he wanted, but he knew he wanted more: no more light touches with his fingers to inspect you. He tried to place his hand against your stomach, almost hypnotized by how it moved up and down as you breathed calmly. Despite his eagerness to be close to his mate, his hand approached you slowly and carefully.

Only to flinch away when you stir in his nest, tossing in the soft straw pillows and blankets. Keeping his distance but quietly observing as you slowly awaken from your slumber, expecting to wake up in your tent only to realize that your hand grazes through a straw immediately. Your heart quickens the fog of sleepiness immediately lifting as you bolt awake, scaring the figure next to you. Black wings flap as he jumps back, startled by your sudden movement, only to crawl toward you slowly.

That's when you finally saw your kidnapper. Jet black eyes matching with his feathers, with with what you see patches of graying feather. Even as he crawled, it was clear that he could easily tower over you. You were unable to speak due to your circumstances, and you're being riddled with anxiety and fear of just being kidnapped while unconsciously thinking that it's just a bad dream. Your palms were sweaty legs and arms shaking. You are not on the ground anymore, your eyes looking down a high drop. 

Larry notices your eyes filled with fear. His voice is low, husky, yet gentle.

"Do not be scared, wife. I will not hurt you,"

Out of everything that was happening, that one little nickname robbed your attention away, finally getting you able to speak.

"W-wait what did you just call me?" Your voice cracked fear still in your system as you try to scoot a little away as the big birdman urges you closer to his body.

"This is what human males call their mates, is it not?"

His knowledge of humans is highly lacking. However, getting him to change his mind on the little pet name he gave you seems complicated. But you had better things to worry about, like getting out of this nest and away from him.

" you do not have wings, wife; please stay away from the edge."

Larry cooed, still using that softer voice. You pull your arms closer to your body, or fists clenched as your whole body tenses up. His black wings brush against your side and closing you against his chest.

Almost in his lap, your body was pressed against him, a firm hand against your back, and his wing wrapped around you. You feel his nose nestle against your forehead.

Even though you've been kidnapped, things could have been worse. This bird guy doesn't seem like he wants to hurt you. You can't help but feel your heart fluttered by his voice when he calls you that little nickname. Even though he's technically wrong, it doesn't feel bad. Holding you against his chest like this feels kind of nice; it is better than killing you. Hopefully, you can convince him to let you go. Unbeknownst to you, Larry plans to keep you for a very long time.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

[alfredosauce50]

Yandere Denmark headcanons

Ruthless, ambitious, and with a mind for expansion, it’s no wonder he always finds himself in positions of political power. But like all men, he has desires of the flesh, the longing for real connection. He comes onto you as an ordinary man, and you love him as one.

What you don’t know, is that he’s the king. When you learn the truth, you pull away fearing for your own safety. But he holds onto all the tighter. With the nation obeying his every whim and every pair of eyes and ears working for him, he’s impossible to escape.

Content warning: Sex, violence, and dubious consent. R18+ only.

The nobleman

Mathias commands respect everywhere he goes. As one of the most powerful men in the ancient world, he has a potent presence that causes the whole energy of a room to change if he were to enter it. But he also likes to blend in when he can. He will dress down to avoid standing out, even if it’s still in clothes for those in the top percentile.

He often leaves the palace grounds to visit the city in person. Whether it’s for leisure or to see how his kingdom is doing, he insists on doing it without protection. And when people recognize his face as the same one on the back of their coins, he gives a reassuring smile as they talk excitedly amongst themselves. The King is here!

Chinese silk, richly dyed clothing, and the most exotic Arabian perfume. They’re everything you notice about Mathias when you serve him at your diner. A member of the ruling class, you think. But that’s all. The last thing you’d expect is for the king himself to show up in this humble establishment, fitting in like everybody else.

“Tell me, eskler,” He begins, watching you set down his meal in front of him. Lamb shank, mash, and the soup of the day. A hearty meal to go with the homey atmosphere. “What do you think about the king?”

“I don’t know,” You lift your gaze to him thoughtfully. Without batting an eye, you tell him the words he didn’t know he needed to hear, and would, in turn, change his life forever. “I’ve never met him.”

He’s taken aback by your response, but it draws him in like no other. There’s people who don’t care for politics, and then there’s you. Someone who’s never even seen him before. And so long as he keeps his identity a secret, he’ll be treated as an equal. It’s nowhere near the treatment fit for a king, but somehow, he can’t get enough.

Mathias asks you out for dinner. You reject him the first time, and understandably so. You don’t wanna accidentally become a part of his harem, or whatever it is the elites are doing these days. However, you eventually have a change of heart when you keep seeing him in your diner. Not to pester you about a date, but only to eat and chat.

“Seeing that you’re more polite than any other man I’ve met, I’ll take you up on your offer,” You tell him.

“Really?”

“What, did you have higher expectations for men?”

“No, that’s why I’m surprised you would say yes,” Mathias explains, following you with his eyes as you clear up the last remaining tables. He eventually stands up to ask this. “What makes me so different?”

The truth is, you sense that he’s a good person, and he’s shocked when you tell him. He tries to see himself in your eyes, and in turn, discovers a whole new side. Thanks to your willingness to engage with him on his level, he gets in touch with the more vulnerable parts of his character. He drops his guard, and feels strangely human.

He starts seeing you in secret. The moment he gets the chance, he disappears from the palace and makes a discrete trip to your home. His alibi? The same thing he’s been doing the whole time. He’ll always show up with flowers and other gifts, but more importantly, an empty stomach, having developed an appetite for your simple cooking.

“So, what are we having for dinner today?” He rubs his hands expectantly as he peers over your shoulder.

“Pickled fish,” You hum.

“Can I help?” He lights up, rolling his sleeves.

“You can help me by staying out of the kitchen.”

He’s very playful. Rolling around with you in the grass, pretending to bite you like a frenzied dog, it’s a timeless romance that transcends the ages. He can play with you like a child but love you like a woman, so being with him feels like a dream. His presence is just so fulfilling you can’t imagine asking for more, but he just keeps surprising you.

He spoils you. His generosity is magnanimous, pampering you with jewelry, dresses, homeware, and everything you could ever need, and more. Mathias imagines himself to be the solution to all your problems, and takes great pride in using his privilege to help you. Little does he know, it’s the one thing that drives a wedge between you both.

“This is really nice and all, but—”

Mathias is taking you to store after store, fishing out anything he thinks would look good on you. And he isn’t picky, or shy, for that matter. He will watch your silhouette behind the paper screen until you finish.

“—this is a bit much, don’t you think?” You appear from the side of the screen in a revealing jade dress, cheeks flushed. “I don’t need all these things, and besides, I could never pay you back if I tried.”

“Why would you pay me back?” He questions.

“I’m just saying,” You reply, sliding your hands in his. “It always feels like we’re from different worlds, Mat.”

He takes that statement personally and becomes cautious about protecting his identity. You hold him to a high enough regard already, and he’s only revealed so much — that he’s an aristocrat. Even then, you’re still wary of the class difference that sets you two apart. Mathias is destined for greatness, but this is all you’ll ever be. Imagine how you’d react if you found out he was the king.

He’s afraid that he’ll scare you off. All rulers have blood on their hands, a ruthlessness that evades the ordinary man. You would be heartbroken if Mathias were anything of such, and he knows. He only wants you to see him as the person he is when he’s with you. Kind, gentle, and passionate. You make feel like a man, and when he feels like a man, it fills him with a carnal sense of purpose.

He’s sensual at heart, so he can’t go without it. Not without you, or the intoxicating completion you give him. So when you start pulling away, he’ll feel the whips of panic because a part of him is slipping away. Every interaction you have with him will become emotionally charged. Mathias chases you like crazy, but you withhold from him, causing him to have frequent bursts of passion.

“I thought we talked about this—”

“—No, I thought we talked about this. You said you loved me, and now you’re not gonna marry me?” Mathias sits up out of alarm, then stares at you like you just betrayed him, because to him, you have.

When you argue

There’s no arguing with Mathias. When he wants it his way, he’ll eventually get it. And in that same breath, you can never stay mad at him, allowing for a vicious cycle that never ends. Something about him just gets you to forgive him before he even does anything. It doesn’t matter what the argument is about, or how bad it gets, because it’s guaranteed you’ll be kissing him by nightfall, and he’ll be making love to you until sunrise.

“What’s makes us so different to each other?”

“You know why,” You rub the tears from your eyes as you rush down the stairs. “I’m not your equal. I don’t have money, I can barely read, and I don’t know anything about the things that are important to you!”

“Those are trivial things! And they’re nothing I can’t give or teach you!” He runs in front of you, talking excitedly. And he believes in every word he speaks. “The fact that we’re arguing makes us equals!”

No matter how outlandish.

“It doesn’t work that way, Mathias!”

He uses sex to his advantage. You know touch is his love language, so it becomes hard to resist, especially after a bad fight. The tension calls for a hard release of it, which he does through a hot and raw pounding. It gives him the safety and reassurance that you will always love him, and he’s addicted to it like a drug. Don’t be surprised that he starts picking fights just for the sake of it.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He pants over you, moving his pelvis back and forth in fluid thrusts.

“You wouldn’t dare,” You breathe under him.

“I would,” Mathias speeds up to a pace that gets his face to contort from a pleasure so good, it looked like he was in pain. He was going so hard and deep, his orgasm came in seconds, arriving in strong jets that fills you to the brim. And he’s not letting you go until every last drop of it is pumped into your womb.

He wrecks boundaries and shatters your mind in the process. He can’t handle distance, let alone tension, and will force his way into your world. You can’t help but let him, too helplessly in love with his smile and memory. He seems nurturing and giving, when really, he takes just as much, and if not, more. You don’t always realize that, and lose yourself as well as your ability to say no.

The King

He has a fierce intelligence that intimidates. Not only does he have one of the greatest military minds of all time, there is no taking advantage of him in political exchanges. He can read anyone with a single glance, then find a way to get out on top. It’s all in his slick grin, which goes away in an instant. Making it obvious he’s hiding his amusement is just how he mocks his enemies.

Mathias is above the system. He doesn’t abide by existing power or religious structures if he thinks they’re useless. Sailing west into an open ocean, guiding his people to enlightenment and discovery. Questioning rulers, then going so far as to overthrow them. He’s a dark horse when it comes to challenging the natural order, a master of annexation, a force to be reckoned with.

He treats those below him with respect. He will look anyone in the eye to speak to them on their level, no matter who. He’s not pretentious at all, but very understanding of people from all walks of life. Kind to the poor, merciless to the rich. Civilians are cared for by their king and love him for it, but the same can’t be said for high society. Not that they have anything to say about it.

Mathias is uncensored to violence. He wouldn’t bat an eye at the inside of someone’s skull, heads rolling, or spilled guts. As a king, he’s seen it all. He fights with his men like the God of war for all his incorruptible dreams, so every battle serves a divine purpose. If it means he can give his people a better life, give you a better life, he would gladly take it away all the same without hesitation.

And yet, when you come around, his invincibility, sharpness, everything that makes him ruthless, goes away instantly. That impenetrable exterior his enemies work tirelessly to get past, is broken. He returns to who he is at his core, a kind, gentle, and curious man because you see him as such. Being with you is like rising to the surface and taking a breath for the first time, constantly.

For this, he can never stop thinking about you. Every waking hour of the day, you’re on his mind. With the rush of politics and warfare, all he wants is to drown in your love, beauty, and femininity. You are the light to the darkness that pervades the world, your presence a sacred haven in all the chaos. It’s no wonder the world is made for two, because he can’t understand it without you.

That’s why he’s such an intense lover. Mathias will show up to your doorstep uninvited and beg for your attention like he’s starving for it, because there’s no other way to describe such a feeling. Whether it’s through talking, touching, or kissing, the way he looks at you is how all girls want to be looked at — a look with so much love, you can hardly return it. But he makes you every time.

He can stay calm even in times of conflict and crises. He knows when he’s in control, and this has served him well for many years. But if he does lose his head, it’s when you’re caught in the crossfire. He will do anything to keep you safe, even if he has to sacrifice thousands of others. He wouldn’t just go to war for you like other men, he would wage them. Start them. Finish them.

His dedication is the stuff of myths and legends, because if it came down to it, he would venture to the depths of the underworld to rescue you from the dead. Slay monsters to prove his worth. Challenge Gods. Nothing is bigger than his love for you, and he’ll make the whole world feel it. What he has with you is for the history books, epics, and sagas, but he’d prefer privacy over all.

You are his only weakness, so if someone caught wind of the king’s secret lover, everything would be over. Unfortunately, he gets too carried away by going to your home too often. To protect you, he has no choice but to reveal his identity and take you back to the palace. Dressed up in his most extravagant robes, he knocks on your door with a band of soldiers surrounding the property.

When you answer, the first thing you see is Mathias in his crown, and behind him, the royal guard. Your heart sinks as everything clicks. Why he was always so secretive, why he was always so adamant that you were his equal, his other half. Why the court advisors bowed before him despite being the highest ranking officials in the state, because he was above everyone and everything, all except for the Gods themselves.

“Let me explain.” He tells you, brows raised.

“I knew it,” You utter, slamming the door in his face. But nobody simply shuts out the king, not even you. That reality sinks in as he stays outside your home, asserting he has no intention to leave without you.

The honeymoon

The first week is the toughest. You feel betrayed and overwhelmed by who Mathias is, so you refuse to see him. He’s very understanding at first, and prepares a separate room just for you. It’s fully furnished, lavishly decorated, and filled with everything you’ve ever laid your eyes on. He’s been thinking of you all this time, yearning to be with you, but you have yet to give in. This isn’t the man you thought you knew, and yet, some part of you always suspected he’d turn out this way. He seemed too good to be true, and he was. After all, every force has an equal and opposite reaction, where his love for you alone goes head to head with his ruthlessness.

He tries to find you around the palace, which is perfect for when you eventually get cabin fever. You roam the palace grounds out of curiosity, even joining some of the servants in the kitchen. Mathias would never show up in a place like that, and that serves you well for a few days. You feel like yourself again and all is well, that is, until you run into him in the orchard, picking apples for himself. It’s the second time you’ve made the crucial mistake of thinking of him as any other king when he isn’t. No chore is too low for him to do, no place too filthy for him to be. You both stare at each other, eyes wide. Without a single word exchanged, you turn around and run off.

“Will you at least have dinner with me?” He calls out to you, watching your back grow smaller and smaller.

“I’m quite fine, thank you.”

“Please?” Mathias softens his voice. “I miss you.”

You can’t resist him, especially when he talks and looks at you like that. The man you thought you knew is still in there, and it sucks you in like a rip. You join him in the dining hall and have a meal together, even if it’s a silent one. You’re keen on leaving right after, but he’s quick to notice that. He’s never wrong when it comes to reading your body language, even when you were being subtle about it. Turns out, with him, nothing is subtle. He catches you before you get far, grabbing your hand and pulling you back. “I’m still the same person you love, so will you just stay with me?”

Mathias is sneaky. He’s really good at reeling you in and letting you think you’re pushing him away. And he gets closer the more he keeps doing it. He knows exactly what he’s doing, while looking like he doesn’t. His innocent act is more effective than you’re led on to believe, because you fall for it every time. Every interaction with him has a catch, just like the dinner that came with a stroll. And now, you’re in his bed a week after telling him you want to sleep separately. You only realize your mistake three nights in, curled up tightly in his arms, staring up at his tired, smiling face.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You whisper.

“The same thing you’ve always done.” He answers.

He’s comfortable in his natural state. Mathias has the body of a warrior, his skin scarred by all the blades that have touched him. Otherwise, he’s an impressive specimen produced from years of battle and good genes. Large, muscular, and well-endowed. If the weather allows for it, he’ll relax in the bedroom buck naked, and talk to you as casually as he would with clothes on. He doesn’t feel any shame or embarrassment when he’s so familiar with you. He can also work up quite a stink, so he makes it a point to chase you around for a hug. And he catches you every time.

He expects you to join him for breakfast and dinner everyday. Mathias has a lot of business to attend to in between, but wants you to be the first and last thing he sees. Waking up and falling asleep beside you isn’t enough. He also insists on taking all his baths with you, so you ought to get used to being naked around him. He’s the type to stare, and so much that it’s embarrassing, but he always makes sure to remind you how beautiful you are. He may be a handful, but he just wants you to be as comfortable around him as you can so you both can be like two peas in a pod.

“It’s not like I haven’t already seen every inch of you, so don’t be shy,” He wades over to you in the pool.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t stop refreshing your memory.” You splash his face, cackling. “Have some manners!”

He tutors you. Granted, it took a lot of convincing on your end, but you can’t deny that you want to be closer to him, and this is how. He teaches you all about his duties, as well as math, science, and literacy. You didn’t go to school, but he wants to involve you in official business as you’ll be his most trusted partner in the future. And if he sends letters, you need to be able to read them. He’s been elevating you this whole time, hoping that you gain the confidence to stand by his side one day. And when that day comes, he’ll propose to you in a way that feels so natural, you won’t hesitate to accept. If you see him smiling at you over nothing, that’s what he’s thinking about. You’re going to be this nation’s most beloved queen one day, and he can’t wait for it to come.

The night of your wedding, he will carry you to his chambers to consummate it. He doesn’t think of it as a duty wherein he needs to produce heirs, but something he’s been wanting to do for ages. Starting a family with you, if he didn’t already get you pregnant from all the unprotected sex he’s been having with you for months. But tradition is tradition, and there won’t be another opportunity as romantic as this. You’ll be ravished all night, taking him until your insides ache and you get sick of his taste. He has a penchant for all kinds of sex, but combined with his ox-like stamina and insatiable appetite, he could go at it forever.

Mathias would want to reincarnate by your side, finding you again and again in endless rebirths. In the dark ages where life is short and death is always near, having you just once isn’t enough. So after conquering the mortal world and making it perfect for you, he will search for answers to the question that needs answering. What comes after death, and if you’ll be there, waiting for him. It’s strange. He has dreams of having different lives, each more vivid than the last. Sometimes a dashing prince, other times, a champion boxer. He doesn’t understand what he experiences, but the thing about dreams is that they always make sense when he’s in them. So maybe, it’ll come to him one day, even if it’s thousands of years later.

[xxmaxwellxx]

Hello! Me again! I’ve finished writing another story. Again, any constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated! I’m also thinking of making another part to both the stalker story and this one. If anyone is interested in something like that please comment, dm me or send a request! As always sorry for any errors, I’m slightly dyslexic and if I missed anything in the warnings please tell me so I can fix it! (Also if anyone has any requests please don’t hesitate to send one in! I’m trying to grow my account and be better at writing so requests are very helpful!)

Tw: merman, general Yandere behavior (body horror? No gore just a very unique merman)

Gn reader (referred to with they/them pronouns!)

The seagulls screeching above are oddly comforting. Over my time as a researcher, I've learned that if the seagulls aren’t flying overhead, a storm is near. And luckily for me, the seagulls are in the sky and very vocal. I grab a shrimp from my dads cooler and throw it up towards the birds, watching one swoop down and grab it before joining the others. I always admired how intelligent they were, following boats in the hopes of getting food. I reach back into the cooler for another shrimp before my dad yells at me, “Hey!” I whip around at his voice, “Don't waste all our bait on some gulls! If you keep feeding them, they're going to swoop down and eat all our shrimp!” I giggle at his words. He's always lectured me about feeding the birds. The boat slows to a stop and my dad leaves the wheelhouse and lowers the anchor as I take my sweater off and put my flippers on. I wore my favorite sweater over my wetsuit, the wind out at sea surprisingly cold.

My dad sets up his fishing rod at the edge of the boat and I go to the other side to avoid his fishing line. He always fishes when I go diving, not to eat but to keep himself entertained while I'm gone. He never keeps the fish, just writing down the type of fish, how big and how old he thinks it is before throwing it back. He has multiple notebooks he keeps on his boat from years back when mom would go diving. She was always my role model, she was the reason I got my degree in marine biology and my scuba permit. She was the reason behind gaining a passion for fish, the reason my room was filled to the brim with marine animal stuffed animals. She had to stop diving, when I was young she got sick, and it was too dangerous for her, but that's why I'm here. I'm going to continue her studies for her, so she can still see the ocean she loved so much from her bed.

Putting my goggles and mouthpiece on, I excitedly roll off the deck and into the water. Right below me is a magnificent coral reef filled to the brim with color. Hustling and bustling with fish of all colors of the rainbow. Clown fish in the anemones, iridescent parrot fish, yellow butterfly fish, stripped Angelfish, a few yellow finned Damselfish, Surgeonfish and small Goby all swimming in and out, over and under the coral. I take out my camera and snap a few photos, not just for mom, but also for the other researchers back at the lab. They sent me out with a few videography robots to study the effects global warming has had on the reefs, but I don't think they'd mind if I snuck a few to my mom. I drift further and further away from my dads boat, distracted by taking photos.

A few photos of the vibrant parrot fish, a few of clown fish seeking residence in sea anemones, a few of the small goby fish and a lot of the vibrant coral. I keep wandering further, always keeping the boat in view when something catches my eye. A hole. A large hole. No, not a hole, a sea cave. I peer inside and see dots of color. I wouldn't hurt to venture in, would it? For science, I tell myself, for research and the betterment of knowledge, I tell myself, but I know I'm just too curious for my own good. Upon my entrance I see various seaweed, algae and sea sponge species. The further I go, the less light. The less light, the more things produce their own. I see a few small fish and algae glow but something big catches my eye, something really big, too big, and oh so colorful. Swirls of orange and blue and too humanoid to be a fish, but too fish to be human. It has what looks like hair, long and glowing blue on one side and orange on the other, with many streaks of the opposite color mixed in. a long tail with swirls of the same colors, and it goes up it's body onto what looks like a torso and arms. It has arms? Why would a fish have arms? Cave dweller or not, fish are not supposed to have arms.

I quickly pull out my camera, I have to document this. What I didn't account for was the automated flash, it has a light sensor and if it's too dark, the flash turns on. Suddenly the cave is lit up with light from my camera. I panic and fiddle with my camera, trying desperately to turn off the automated flash, but my efforts are in vain. A clawed hand grabs the lens, and I turn my attention to the creature in front of me. A wave of fear washes over me as I look up to a humanoid face, my heart rate picks up as I notice the scowl he wears. I start to hyperventilate as he leans in closer and reaches a hand out towards my face. A clawed hand coming towards my face. He's going to hurt me, isn't he? My fight or flight kicks in and in my panic I choose fight.

I quickly raise my legs and kick him in the stomach, making him curl into himself and let go of my camera and propelling me away from him. While he's distracted, I grab my falling camera and rush out of the cave and towards the boat. I didn't notice how late it's gotten, the sun setting over the horizon as I pull my self out of the water and onto the ledge. I quickly dislodge my mouthpiece and throw my goggles further onto the boat, trying to regulate my breathing once again. What was that? Human? Fish? Some kind of sick hybrid? Should I tell dad? Tell the team? Did I even get a clear picture of that thing? If news gets out, what will the press say? What will the scientists do? If it has the conscience of a human, it will be cruel to report on it. What if someone hurts them? Kills them? What do I even do?

My thoughts are broken by my dads voice, “Everything alright?” he always asks that after I come up, but he sounds worried this time. “Yeah… Yeah, I'm fine.” I'm lying through my teeth, I know it, and I'm pretty sure he knows with the look he gives me “Well, if you're sure. I made dinner while you were gone. It's on the table whenever you're ready.” he tips his hat and walks away, presumably to go eat the aforementioned dinner. I sigh and take off my oxygen tank, hanging it with the others before going below deck to take a shower.

My dad snores in his bed as I eat the dinner he made. Vegetable dumplings with a side of soy sauce and ramen. Simple, easy to make and oh so good. He always made the best food. I'm scrolling through my camera roll as I eat, checking if my team can use any of the photos I took when it pops up. I almost drop my dumpling when I see it. The creature on my camera roll, slightly blurry but still visible with glowing eyes. I want to throw up. He's objectively beautiful, but he's earth shaking. Merfolk aren't real, they're evolutionary impossible, and yet here he is. I suddenly don't have an appetite anymore, it's too much to handle. I put my food in the fridge and lay in my bed. What am I going to tell my team? What am I going to tell dad? That despite every odd on the planet, merfolk are real, and I had an encounter with one? They're going to think I'm crazy, right? What about the picture? Would that really be enough proof for them? Would they accuse me of editing the picture? What possible excuse could I come up with to explain it? If they do believe me, I don't want them to hurt him. Would it just be best to delete it? Export the photo off the camera and keep it for myself? These thoughts keep me up well past my bedtime.

Something is off. I feel like I'm being watched. I turn my gaze from the ceiling to the glass floor. It's him. The thing from the cave. It smiles, reveling razor sharp teeth. What have I gotten myself into?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They're mine. It was set in stone when we met.

When I heard of the cave shells, I knew I had to check it out. Supposedly there were shells that glow in the dark and I just had to get my hands on one. Avoiding the moray and brushing aside small lantern fish, I make my way deep into the cave. I've been there for a solid hour, going from tunnel searching the sand. I was getting frustrated. Where are those shells?! A flash catches my attention. Whipping around, I see a human. They look exactly like the rumors. Humans are real? And what's that box in their hand? What was that light? Was it a mating signal? Do they like me? I swim over to investigate the box, laying my hand on it, the thought crosses my mind. This was probably a mating gift! Immediately after I realize what it is, they kick me and swim off with the box. Humans must be a species that want to be chased before they mate!

I quickly swim after them when they go up above the water onto a strange piece of metal. That must be their home! My suspicions are proven correct when I see them sitting in a strange object and eating. Merfolk only eat in their homes, so it must be the same for humans. They crawl onto something squishy and cover themselves with something.

I dare to get closer to them, my face bonks against something clear, this must be the glass the other merfolk were talking about. I place my hands upon the glass, watching my mate. Eventually they look down at me, my friend Erin told me humans like when you smile, that smiling was a show of friendliness to humans.

Rest assured, little human, the next time you're in water you will be mine. Our mandarin babies will be so cute!~

(Merman is based off a mandarin fish, look them up! Very unique fish!)

[littlespace-imagines]

Agere Bots Masterlist

I have *two* accounts for bots Yanderemenmaker and FictionalNursery, I’m keeping with my usual of keeping little and regular writings/bots separate.

All my agere bots on Yanderemenmaker will be brought over to FictionalNursery.

Creepypasta

Jane Richardson being an obsessive cg

Jeff catching you regressing

Eyeless Jack observes your regression

Cozy night with Jeff treating you like a baby

Call of Duty

You make Konig feel weak

Keegan comforts you after hostage rescue

Ghost wants to take care of you

Monsters/creatures

Little fairy friend who wants to play

Kind orc handyman babies you after fixing your broken window

Vampire working night shift questions your candy consumption

Local Minotaur also sells little gear in the dl

Little witch friend takes you on a magical journey

Curious drider wanting to design you the cutest clothes

Kind Aracne woman who owns a little nursery

Yandere

Stalker who desperately wants to be your CG

The gangster that bought you to take care of you

Slashers

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Your Deathclaw Boyfriend (Male Reader Version)

Male Yandere Deathclaw x Male Reader (CW: Noncon, Inhuman genitals, double penetration, ass eaten like it’s groceries, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 920 (Hope you guys enjoy this, I wrote and edited hastily so I hope you can forgive any errors.)

It had been an extremely stupid idea, exploring the wasteland solo with no group. But you had never been one for traveling with other people, you preferred scavenging alone, and it had a few benefits. No betrayals from companions looking for the right moment to stab you in the back and you maintained  the ability to move stealthily. You could always detect a loud group of unruly bandits, they weren’t exactly subtle. But finding a scavenging group to scour the wastes with or maybe even settling down completely in a relatively safe settlement would have prevented the fate that ultimately befell you. You had been exploring a small cave that looked like it may have some loot, old long dead people stashed all kinds of nice stuff in places like this. You should have known something was wrong immediately by the odd smell that seemed to permeate the air wafting out of the entrance, but it could have been anything so you continued cautiously. That was your first mistake. Your second mistake was seeing what was some kind of nest with large, sparkling gems at the base forming a large circle along with smoothed stones and bit of shining metal, all with hay, feathers, and clothes at the top. It was obviously bedding, but whatever it was that slept here wasn’t present then. So you decided to nab a couple of the large gemstones before making a hasty exit. Unknown to you the maker of the nest had seen you enter his home and was silently stalking you as you approached his bedding. And he was thrilled that his scent marking had led you into his home and was even more excited when he saw you touch the stones he had collected to attract a mate, it was a clearly an indication that you were receptive to being with him. You had gotten closer and kneeled down in front of the nest and placed a hand on one of the gems, ready to snatch it up, but suddenly you were jerked backwards and lifted up several feet into the air. You were being held by an alpha deathclaw with black and green glowing skin. As you thrashed wildly trying to escape you were surprised to hear him speak. “Ah, tiny mate-thing, Grogth is so happy you were attracted to my home~  Didn’t expect a human to be interested but am so so excited!” His voice was deep and beast-like but he spoke fluently. “No! I was just… exploring!” You didn’t want to admit to having been about to steal his gems. “Awe, you’re so shy! That’s okay, Grogth knows how to be gentle.” If you could have reached your weapon you would have, but he quickly tore through your clothing and tossed away all your supplies before placing you carefully in his nest on your back. He crouched down and brought you to the edge of the bedding and gently spread your legs, ignoring your attempts to kick him away and attributing all of your resistance to first time jitters, fully convinced that this was what you wanted. Why else would you have been at his nest if you didn’t want to be mated? He lapped eagerly at your cock and balls, at first he was surprised to see them between your legs, thinking only a female would want to be his mate and not being able to tell between a clothed human male or a clothed human female, but he was not the least bit deterred. After all, he was a large and powerful mate and he had an awesome nest, he could never blame you for wanting to be his cute partner. Humans were so tiny and you obviously needed his protection. Maybe that was why you were so shy, you were worried Grogth would reject you if he knew you were male. He couldn’t let his precious new mate think that! So he made sure to give your delicate human cock lots of love, slowly licking up your shaft, wrapping his tongue around it and stroking it with his tongue until it was nice and hard. Then he dove his mouth between your cheeks and slid his strong tongue into your entrance, making sure to apply plenty of spit to make you good and lubed up. You twitched and writhed as his tongue massaged your prostate.  And once he deemed you nice and well lubed your legs were raised and both his cocks were thrusting in and out of your tight hole.   True to his word he was as slow and as gentle a lover as he could possibly be, nuzzling into your neck and telling you how you were such a good boy for him and so very perfect at taking his cocks as he bred you. Despite his tenderness, with the sheer size of both of his cocks penetrating you deeply pain was unavoidable. Though it was not unbearable and after a while as more and more of his precum lubricated your ass it became very pleasurable. It did not take too long for you both to cum hard, after which he held you lovingly as you panted and tried to recover. There was no way you would ever escape from him, your weapons were not strong enough and you didn’t have it in you to hurt Grogth anyway when he wasn’t purposefully malicious, and if you ran away he would track you down. This was your life now, and you might as well accept it.   

[sinnful-darling]

YAN! 2ND BORN SIREN SIBLING

tws: slightly possessive behavior if you squint, honestly this siren is a sweetheart so there aren’t very many, violence implications (not directed towards the reader)

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling whose name is Arbor. They stand at a hulking 6'3 with jaw-length hair the same hue as their elder brother’s and enjoys fluffing up their hair with a mixture of spells and cosmetics.

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling who has a lean stature that's more on the scrawny side. But don't underestimate their strength because they’ll have you pinned beneath them in the blink of an eye!

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling who is incredibly fast, has eyesight as sharp as a hawk’s, and whose spatial awareness will blow you out of the water. They’ll know you’re trying to leave before you even swim an inch.

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling who is extremely clingy. They’re always tired so be prepared to be held in place for a nap quite often. Even if they’re not tired, they’ll take you by the waist and make you sit in their lap, or they’ll be laying on you, tail swishing a little bit as they take in your scent.

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling who might be sweet, but has a violent streak. They’re quick to anger, and will never take it out on you, but is absolutely terrifying nonetheless.

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling who hates their older brother because they’ve lived in his shadow their whole life. Though, they’re glad that their brother found you- the love of their life.

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling who absolutely spoils you. They gift you beautiful jewelry and will bring you only the best food they can find. They wanna make sure that you’re happy above all- even if they can’t allow you to go back to your life above water.

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling who pampers you. They brush your hair and sew your clothes, they’ll bathe you and make sure you feel as lovely as you are. They want you to have the best life possible.

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling who was the one who figured out that their elder brother was planning on taking you away, telling their younger siblings and concocting a plan to leave with the two of you.

Yan! Second Born Siren Sibling who is pleased when their elder brother gives into their antics and allows them to stay with you, caging you in their arms and taking a nap with you.

[whore-ibly-hot]

💞Masterlist💞

Yandere OC's:

🌱🔔🌱🔔🌱🔔🌱🔔🌱🔔🌱

Yan!Cult Member: Joshua

Outsider In (Introduction fic)

💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜

Yan!Best-friend: Carl

What Are Friends For? (Smut) (Introduction fic)

🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀🧚‍♂️🍀

Yan!Fae: Puck and Yan!Fae King Oberon

Midsummer Nights Madness (Introduction fic)

A servant and his King (Smut) (Oberon introduction fic)

🪨🌫⛺️🪨🌫⛺️🪨🌫⛺️🪨🌫⛺️🪨

Yan!Soldier/Warrior: Fritz + Private Johannes

His Little Bride (Smut) (Introduction fic)

The Little Soldier And His General (Smut)

🚜🌄🚜🌄🚜🌄🚜🌄🚜🌄🚜🌄🚜

Yan! Farm-Boy: Joey McCall

City Boys ain't Worth Nothing (Smut) (Introduction fic)

📸📘📸📘📸📘📸📘📸📘📸📘📸

Poly!Yan Bully and Freak: Patrick and Ahmed

Art-project (Introduction fic) (Gender neutral reader)

🎟🥊🎟🥊🎟🥊🎟🥊🎟

Yan!Cage-Fighter: Mattias

Paying bills ain't easy. (Introduction fic)

💟🎀💟🎀💟🎀💟🎀💟🎀💟🎀💟

Yan!Mean-girls: Maggie, Sasha, and Lindsey

Just girly things. (Introduction fic)

📞🖨📞🖨📞🖨📞🖨📞🖨📞🖨📞

Yan!Husbands Boss/Ceo: Morgan

Just another day at the office. (Introduction fic)

🎮🕹🎮🕹🎮🕹🎮🕹🎮🕹🎮🕹🎮

Yan!Retro-Gamer: Lewis

My player two. (Introduction fic)

Unamed/Misc Concepts

Yan!Neighbor HC's (Concept fic)

[running-with-kn1ves]

Servantly duties

A/N: I've been working on this on and off for like a month so I'm sorry if its no bueno! I was really just trying to finish it and am keen to work on kinktober!

TW: implied sexual harassment, chipped fingernail, aphrodisiac/ love potion trope, forced kissing/touching

Synopsis: as a human servant to a satyr god, you're forced to draw him a bath and fall to his whims. 

Word Count:4000

Being a servant for a deity and their court was not as glamorous as it may have seemed. “Yes your highness” this, and “of course my lord” that; you were just thankful that satyrs were a lively race. Especially considering their knacks for magic and devious enchantments, not to mention their selfishly lustful acts. But you, you had the special task of taking care of a very important one. A god. Though the god himself was not very powerful nor crucial to most creatures, in the hierarchy of his race he was the most grand. 

After getting caught stealing from his altar out of desperation, you were condemned to work in the prime temple as a servant. You were shown mercy partly due to the gods laziness, and mostly because the being took a strange, licentious liking to you. Besides nymphs, humans were one of the most sought after creatures by satyrs, and it was not very often that one of the two would strut into such a dangerous territory. If it weren’t for the deity keeping you at his side, you probably would’ve been taken by one of his subjects. Satyrs never had a filter on their ravenous sexuality, only god knows what would’ve happened if they got their claws on you. But, it's not like the deity was any better. 

Though your servitude was a punishment, you grew accustomed to your life here. You swallow your pride in order to avoid the gods wrath, hoping someday to be free of serving such voracious creatures. A snide comeback wasn’t worth being cursed for the rest of your life. He was still a deity, after all. So, you bite your tongue and do your duties. You were constantly at his beck and call to refill a glass of wine, to clean up after a luxurious party, or to wave a fan. The work never ended.

You recalled the orders from earlier. 

"Dearest, I want a bath this evening. Make it nice, I only want you in my company." he purred to you. 

You responded accordingly, but saw the way he looked at you. You were sure that he was planning some dastardly crude idea to get you to fall for him. 

You were brought out of your thoughts by a searing pain, accidentally touching the burning pot in front of you. You retracted your hand as fast as lightning from the boiling water. The small fire underneath it had been slowly dying but yet the pail stayed piping hot. Picking up the handle, you delicately rose it from the fireplace. The metal handle dug into your skin as the weight of the water became nearly too much to carry. But you continued walking towards the large bath.

Reaching the basin, you took the thick cloth in your pocket and held the bottom of the pail, dumping it into the bath. The steam quickly diminished as the hot liquid mixed with the water already placed in the tub.

You hummed to yourself as you picked up a bottle of rose oil. You smelled it for a moment, savoring the sweet scent you'd likely never be able to experience fully. Small drips of the liquid fell into the bath, the smell becoming more potent the more it dripped. Setting it back down you took the few flowers surrounding the bathtub and began to peel them. The dried petals fell into the water elegantly. You snuck a few smaller ones into your pocket, watching the door in case the deity appeared. 

You got up to find the clothes you put on the bed earlier, grabbing them and turning slowly to the basin again; The labor of the day was finally hitting you yet it was nice to have a moment alone. But your slack shoulders didn’t stay at ease for long; the sound of the bedroom door swinging open made you tense up again, hurrying to bring the clothing into the bathroom.

“Oh dearest human,” a sing-songy voice called. “Is my bath ready yet?” You heard the rustling of fabric come from the bedroom as you tripped over yourself to get to the door. 

“Yes, my lord.” You cleared your throat, looking as you saw what was in front of you. 

The satyr deity, Philon, was currently eyeing you with a grin. He had already tossed off his satchel, his dirty tunic clearly next. To say the god was bulky was an understatement. His race was not all that different from humans, but his huge stature and animalistic features said otherwise. The deity status was not one that made him any less intimidating, either. He easily towered over you, peering down while his furry ears twitched and his hazel eyes twinkled. You had helped dress the satyr on multiple occasions and occasionally tended to his bath, but it was always with other servants or worshippers. Now, you were given the task to handle him alone. You couldn't even imagine it.

He completely shattered any line of professionalism to the point where you didn't know whether to take his flirty words seriously, to refute them, or to fall to his whims out of fear for your life. Some of the other servants believed Philon was trying to court you. From the way he pursued you longer than any other creature that caught his eye, and how he dismissed any other satyr from touching you, it did look suspicious. But you wouldn't believe it; after all his games and his sickeningly sweet remarks, you believed you were just another distraction until he got bored.

"Finally," the god released a groan, stretching his arms as he began to disrobe. "Feels like I've been out in that forest for ages." 

He noticed you watching as he pulled leaves out of his long hair, undoing the intricate weaving you prepared this morning. Small pieces of gold and little jewels were still strung in his locks. He smirked, staring back at you as he stroked his hair. 

"See something you like?" 

You looked away quickly. 

"I apologize for staring," you mumbled, embarrassed and trying to gesture to the bathroom. He was so full of himself. "Please my lord, your bath is ready." 

Philon grinned, strutting past you. 

As he made his way to the bath, the god began untying his once white tunic. It had been stained with spilt wine and dirt, remnants that surely came from the loud festival outside. But he stopped for a moment, watching you stand there without following. 

"Well come on now, these clothes aren't going to come off themselves!" The satyr said with a hearty laugh. 

You swallowed harshly. At Least being ravaged by a deity was better than any old satyr, you thought to yourself. The all male race had definitely not been easy to deal with.  Everyone was still outside the temple, busy celebrating this year's harvest thanks to Philon; he was usually the last one standing when it came to celebrations of himself.

You walked as slow as you could to the large porcelain bath. Philon sat on the edge of it and stuck a finger in the warm water, swirling it around as petals stuck to his skin. The pleasant aroma of the bath helped ease your nerves. 

He watched you shuffle in, poorly hiding a devious smirk behind his hand. Your shaky hands begin to undo the knot that he had clearly re-tied. 

You felt him staring down at you as warm breath hitting the top of your head. Your fingers struggled with the knot, sweat dripping down your brow as his stare grew intense. But he didn't stop you. Fumbling until your fingernail split, you successfully undid the knot. A small sacrifice to keep your dignity. You were glad the satyr didn’t seem to notice. 

At the removal of the knot, the rest of the satyr’s clothes came undone. His chiton fell to the floor gracefully piling around his feet. You had seen the deity in all his naked glory before, but for some reason this time it felt different. Maybe it was because you were the only one who had his attention. Or maybe, it was because it felt like he was burning holes into your face with how hard he was looking for your reaction. 

You ignored him, picking up the loose fabric that smelled of sweat and sweet wine to put in a small basket. Philon stepped into the tub, letting out an audible groan at feeling the water pool around his legs. You jumped at hearing him, the sensual noise catching you off guard. The lord lowered himself into the bath of petals and sweet smells as he waited for you to tend to him. Picking up the basket of clothes, you intended to get out as fast as you could. Bowing shortly you skittered towards the door. 

“Wait a minute,” the satyr beckoned you with a finger, eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t think you’re done, do you? How am I supposed to get clean?” 

He lifted his furry hoof, water dripping off of his lower half as you looked away; you were tempted to roll your eyes. Of course he wanted you to clean him. You reluctantly set down the basket, coming closer to the bath. You prayed to any other deities that could hear you, hoping they would save you from such a fate. 

But alas, nothing stopped you as you found a clean washcloth on the table behind the bath, near the flower oils and a bar of soap. You quickly grabbed it, dipping the washcloth in the bath water and furiously rubbing the chunk of lye. Maybe if you rushed, he wouldn’t have time to try and mess with you, right? That was the only hope you could cling to. 

But as soon as you were ready to begin bathing him, you froze. This was going to be a lot harder than you thought. You thanked the gods that bubbles covered his lower half, but his bare, dripping chest and biceps still sat before you.

“Start with my shoulders,” He commanded, resting his arms on the bath’s rim. “I’ve got a terrible ache.”

You bit your tongue and shimmied on your knees to the other side of the bath. “Of course.” 

His back was as clean as you’d expect of a god who lazed all day. The nape of his neck was slick with sweat and water, a flurry of freckles dotting his back; they almost seemed to form constellations. You brought the washcloth to his shoulders, feeling his muscles vibrating under your touch. The small divots and hills of his skin were smooth against your fingertips. Before you knew it you had soaped up his shoulders and back completely. He had let out a few, throaty groans at your work but you were too preoccupied to notice. The satyr let out a blissful sigh as he turned upward to look at you. 

“Don’t think your work is done yet, my little dove,” Philon grinned from upside down, fingers reaching out to graze your lips. He left your cheek wet with soap suds as you stayed put, mostly out of surprise. He cupped your cheek as you dared not to lean in or move away.

He then pointed to his head, the long reddish brown strands swaying as he moved. You were dazed for a moment until it clicked, your eyes lighting up with relief. Perhaps, all he really wanted was a bath? Maybe your hope was turning to delusion. 

You grabbed a fancy glass bottle, remembering from having seen it a thousand times while cleaning. You assumed that it was the right one for hair, and poured its contents. Lathering it in your hands, you came to find Philon’s hair was already wet, likely done by the deity in order to speed the process up. You could tell he was growing impatient.

You began from the top of his skull down to the tips of his long locks, thoroughly massaging the suds into his head. You got to the sides near his long, furry ears, rubbing the soap in as you heard him release another groan. They seemed nearly unintentional; the deity's eyes were shut as he let you mold him, his body lax.

You were careful to avoid his horns, their presence hindering your scrubbing. They were one of the few traits that defined the satyr. Other than his horns and ears, from the waist up you'd think he was human. Well, nearly. His kind tended to grow more hair and fur than humans, and this one in particular had the blood of a god flowing through his veins. 

You cupped the deity's chin and leaned his head back lightly, cupping water in your hands to wash out the lavender scented soap. He leaned his head backward and brought your arm to his chest.

Your hand went limp in his, afraid for a moment. You allowed yourself to keep washing the soap suds as he stroked your palm. Philon’s fingers messed with yours, prying open your hand that was balled into a fist. Warm, wet hands tickled your wrist as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 

You swiftly finished rinsing the soap, getting up to busy yourself with finding the rag you left somewhere. You swore you left it on the table only a few feet away. But before you could figure out the location of the rag, you felt your arm tugged by a slimy hand. 

"What's this?" Philon asked. He observed your broken nail. "What happened?"

You watched as he stroked your pointer finger, looking closely at the crack that divided your fingernail. 

"Just an accident. It doesn't impede my work." You said matter-of-factly.

"Well I can't have you working with an injury like this. It could get infected, you know. "

"But the soap--"

He put a finger to your lips, talking over you.

"No buts. In fact, I think this needs to be taken care of now before you injure yourself more."

You were unable to protest as he pulled your arms into the tub. Before you knew it, he had dragged you entirely in, making you let out a yelp as he embraced you with his arms. Your clothes quickly soaked as you flailed. 

Philon chuckled as shock and surprise fled your eyes. You bit your tongue to prevent from giving him a piece of your mind, not daring to extend your servitude sentence any longer. But boy, did you want to bite his head off.

"Awe, what's with the frown?" He grabbed your chin, twisting your face to admire the scowl you held. "glad I was able to make you wet, though."

You couldn't help but cringe, feeling the satyr grip your backside, both to hold you up and to cup a feel. You assumed you looked like a wet cat about now. 

"My lord, how am I supposed to do my work like this?" you said between gritted teeth.

The satyr kept grinning at you cheekily.

"I can't have you getting hurt again on my watch. You can keep washing me in the bath." He leaned back in the tub, waiting for you to make your move. 

Looking at his chest, you realized what he expected. He was still holding you, rubbing his large hands on your knees as you unintentionally straddled his waist. You didn't waste any time wondering what the protruding thing beneath you was.

At a loss for words, you decided to just keep working. Still holding onto the delusional hope of being able to finish quickly and leaving, you leaned forward to grab the soap from behind the Satyr. 

The awkward positioning reminded you just how odd and wrong this situation was. He was a deity, a forest spirit who could banish you to never step foot in a grassy plain in the region again; he could take you if he so pleased, nothing in his presence able to stop him from claiming you as many times as he wanted. 

It wasn't your place to be here, in a bath big enough to hold three, of which barely fit the both of you from the sheer size of the satyr. He touched you as if you were a lover, softly, taking in every crack and blemish in your skin. But that touch was also filled with authority; the way he touched you without looking for your acknowledgement, proved to you he knew there were no consequences. 

Philons’ hand traveled up your hip, caressing your side as you extended to grab the bar of soap. You nearly had it, but it was still out of reach. He merely watched as you struggled to grab it. You were too engrossed in reaching the slick bar of soap to see him come up close to you, breath tickling the hairs of your neck. A soft kiss was planted below your ear, the satyrs’ hand coming up to caress your jaw.

 You slipped without warning, which planted you face-first into his chest. Your nose burned from hitting his sternum so roughly, making your eyes tear up. His flush skin pressed on yours made you scramble up immediately, feet scurrying in the water to get off of him. Grabbing your hands he steadied you as you stuttered. 

"I'm so sorry!" You cried. While the satyr made your skin crawl, you still felt bad about planting yourself right between his tits. 

"Calm down," Philon chuckled, steadying you on his lap. "I never realized how much of a skittish little thing you were." You tensed as he brought your hand with the soap bar up to his chest. "Guess that's one more thing I enjoy about you."

His words nearly made you vomit. But the soap! You managed to grab it during the fall. The satyr almost looked disappointed when you ignored him and found the rag once more, watching you scrub the lye bar. Philon adjusted his legs beneath you, groaning as he "accidentally" grinded upward to get more comfortable. You would've scrambled off his lap by now if it weren't for his hands holding your damp hips. 

Rubbing Philon’s chest in a methodical motion, you watched as the cloth began to make white bubbles on his tanned skin. His ears twitched and you swore if he wasn't in the bath, you would see his tail doing the same. The deity was waiting in anticipation, licking his lips as he felt your soft hands on his torso. He panted, flexing his fingers into the flesh of your thighs. You sighed and looked up at him to see what all the fuss was. 

But his mouth was on you before you could ask. His forehead knocked against yours as he kissed you with a salivating mouth. Philon moved fast, pushing you backwards in the bath and pressing you against it; the water sloshing outside of the basin didn't stop him. Your arms stuck out awkwardly with your hands still holding the rag and soap. 

"Mmn…! I can't help myself anymore--" he cut himself off with a kiss to the side of your mouth, voice hoarse and impatient. "I tried to give you time… let you come to me to spare my pride, but I can't … can't wait any longer. " 

You squealed against his mouth, surprised and desperate for air. You knew the god would pounce, just unsure of when. And now was not the most convenient time. His soapy chest pressed into yours and dampened the rest of your clothes; his hands gripped hard onto the tub as he tried to get on top of you. His furry legs tickled yours under the water, ears flicking against your cheek as he smothered you with affection. He really had been holding back. 

"My lord--" your voice cracked as you tried to press yourself deeper into the tub to create space. Philon took the challenge, pressing harder. "Please this is no way to behave-!" You were cut off with a kiss as he straddled your waist and forced your hands into his hair. The rows and rows of indents that formed his curled horns were smooth in your hands; Philon moaned into your mouth each time you ran your hands down them to push him off. You twisted away from his mouth, biting his lip for an extra measure. 

"Why don’t you understand, I don't want this! Leave me alone!”

He laughed, belittling you with just one condescending look.

"I love the chase,” He licked his lip. "I think you'll find yourself yearning for me soon."

"What?" 

Philon reached for a fragile bottle of wine on the counter of soaps and oils. You never had the pleasure of tasting such a delicacy but have witnessed its effects on those who drank it. It was a well-known aphrodisiac in the region, and you wouldn't be caught dead drinking such a thing around a satyr. Nonetheless this bastard.

He eyed you, taking a sip but not yet swallowing. You fought to get out of his grasp now that his other hand was preoccupied; he managed to hold you down with his forearm, pushing it across your chest to keep you tucked against the bath. The water was beginning to grow cold, bubbles having disintegrated and the fragrant smells starting to diminish. The flower petals had long since dissolved, turning the water a rosy red. 

He threw the empty bottle to the floor with a clang, using his now free hand to try to pry open your mouth. As much as you stayed stubborn, you couldn't help but release a gasp when his long nails dug into your thigh. 

Philon slammed his mouth onto yours, forcing the wine down your throat and against your tongue.Tears welled in your eyes and your nose began to burn. The satyrs inhuman leg pressed itself against your crotch as your hands twisted into his. 

Letting go of your mouth with a wet "pop," philon came to recover your lips with his hand, nearly suffocating you. 

"Swallow. Swallow it." He looked at you with expectant eyes. "Be a good little human now."

You couldn't breathe, water sloshing next to your ears while the large creature forced himself onto you. For the satyr though, he couldn't get enough. The water dripped down your chest, your collar slightly open as you breathed heavily. You groaned against his fingers, just like he always wanted. 

You swallowed the thick, fermented juice, only out of fear for your life. The male let go as you gasped for air. 

"I'm going to make you give yourself to me." He said, as your chest heaved and your hands tried to push him back. "When you're desperate and drooling in only a few moments, you'll have to beg me to touch you."

You promised yourself you wouldn't, that you would keep that small sliver of dignity no matter how dire the situation was, no matter how badly you wanted to return home. But the wine was already starting to take effect. You felt it in your fingers and toes, ones that tingled and went numb. Your chest ached and a warm feeling spread down your stomach. 

"You're already feeling it, aren't you?"

The aphrodisiac was beginning to take its course. Your muscles tensed  as your body grew restless; Philon watched with a sadistic glint in his eyes. He stayed true to his words, refusing to touch you until you began to squirm. You put your hand to your crotch, trying to suppress the growing urge inside of you. The sweet aftertaste of the wine still lingered in your mouth. Philon growled, ears twitching and flicking the gold pieces embedded in his horns and hair. The wine was beginning to take its hold on him, too. Not that he would’ve needed it in the first place.

He panted, running his smooth fingertips down your wet clothes. You felt sticky and hot and impatient, breathing heavily as something inside you made you thirsty. Philon squeezed your chest with hungry hands; you could see the lust beginning to take over his snide expression, his normally insatiable libido somehow growing worse. 

“you're going to be begging on your knees for me.“

[starscabaret]

Yandere OC Profiles

here are some quick basics on all the oc's I will be writing about, feel free to ask anything about them Southern Gothic! Yandere🪲

Full Name: Vincent Lucky Thompson 

Gender: Male 

Background: Latino/ White

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: Hetero 

Age: 26

Height: 6’6

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Cowboy! Yandere 🐎

Full Name: Lane David Gitre

Gender: Male 

Background: White

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality : Hetero

Age: 23

Height: 6’2

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Blonde

Military! Yandere 🎖️

Full Name: Aaron Martin 

Gender: Male 

Background: East Asia

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality : Hetero

Age:23

Height: 6’1

Eye Color: Black

Hair Color: Black

College Athlete! Yandere 🏀

Full Name: Elizabeth Danielle Moore 

Gender: Female 

Background: White

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality : Lesbian

Age: 21

Height: 6’1

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Blonde

Hood Drug Dealer! Yandere 💸

Full Name: Jaden Derrick Fisher 

Gender: Male 

Background: Black

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality : Hetero

Age: 21

Height: 6’3

Eye Color:  Dark Brown

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Emo! Yandere 🦇

Full Name: James Nicholas Sawyer

Gender: Male 

Background: Mixed

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality : Bisexual

Age: 20

Height: 6’2

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Dyed Black

Graduate Student! Yandere 📚

Full Name: Cynthia Broad 

Gender: Female

Background: Mixed

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality : Lesbian

Age: 24

Height: 5’8

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Brown