#exophilia satyr

[demigoddessqueens]

of a wintry fairy land

Masterlist 12

A/n - just some holiday fluff for all the monster girls and guys

a gargoyle who…takes you up to the highest balconies to admire the snow fall on the cities below

The harpy who…helps decorate the tree and rooms with only the shiniest decorations

A witch who…brews warm concoctions for you both on the cold winter nights.

Skating along the frozen pond as the mermaid follows the track marks you make with your skates.

Krampus who is less of a grump during the holidays when he visits you

an alien who…is endlessly fascinated with all the human holiday traditions and wants to create/re-create new and old with you

Reading the famed story of the Christmas ghosts with a specter of your own by the fire

an elaborately crafted gift bequeathed to you from the elf/fae as a solemn “thank you”

The creeping vines from the plant monster that has a mistletoe dangle between you two before you give in

[monstersandmaw]

December's Patreon Monthly Exclusive - male satyr x gn reader (nsfw)

Contents: reader with slight Dominant tendencies (nothing adventurous) goes to Starfall Springs over the Yuletide period and meets a confident and flirty satyr baker/patissier who has a more submissive side in bed.

NSFW content: gender and body-neutral reader (only body parts actually mentioned are nipples), non-penetrative sex, reader receives oral and gives the satyr a handjob. Edging, orgasm denial, messy lad (satyr is cis male), mention of butt plugs/toys but not used, desire to tie him up/restrain him but make do with crossing wrists this time, mention of shower sex but not within the scope of the story... left to the imagination...

Wordcount: 7371

Preview

A very picturesque, but ultimately rather wet and chilly, snow had just begun to grace the terracotta rooftops of Starfall Springs when you stepped off the bus and hefted your massive bag further up onto your shoulder with an inelegant grunt of effort. The journey from the city by train had been a long one, and this last leg from Starfall Springs’ quaint little train station to the centre of town by bus had somehow been the most tiring stage. By that point, you were more than ready to dump your bag on the floor of your rented room, sink into a hot bath up to your rather frosty ears, and then collapse into bed for at least fourteen hours.

Still, it had all been worth it. Out of the steamed-up windows of the bus, you’d seen the most adorable houses and buildings flash past in the velvet night outside, many with candles or fairy lights — actual fairy lights, that is; not the electrical imitations you found in the mostly-human-occupied city — and Yuletide decorations adding extra charm to an already chocolate-box scene.

The room you’d rented for the duration of your stay was in one of the oldest townhouses in the very heart of the small, coastal town, and the building was owned by an older lady who’d sounded quite formidable on the phone when you'd booked it. You hoped she didn’t have draconian rules about bedtimes and festivities. Not that you were planning on throwing a party or anything, but no one likes to be told what to do on vacation.

So you tramped up the stairs with trepidation, stamping off the coating of sticky snow on your winter boots while you waited for someone to answer the doorbell, and before too long the door was opened by a short, stocky, homely-looking satyr with thick, curly white hair and massive, creamy ram’s horns coiling around her sheep-like ears.

“Hello, dear,” she smiled, and you recognised the voice from the phone and tried not to let your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. She looked completely different from how you’d imagined, to your delight and relief. “You must be here for the room?”

You nodded and mumbled your name around chattering teeth.

“I’m Rosehip, but everyone calls me Rosie,” she said, stepping back with a soft clunk of her thick, cloven hooves on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Like many of her kind, she wore human clothing — an olive green, knitted cardigan in her case — on her upper torso and only her natural coat on her goat’s legs.

At that moment, a deeper voice chuckled from further along the corridor, “Or ‘Hippie’, but don’t let her catch you calling her that to her face!”

Rosie’s expression turned flat and unimpressed, and she turned to look over her shoulder to reveal a younger satyr about your own age poking his head out of a doorway at the far end of the hall. “My son,” she grumbled by way of introduction. “He thinks he’s terribly funny, but he hasn’t half the wit of his late father, I’m afraid.”

“I’m a baker, mother, not a comedian,” he said, and you smiled as he flashed you a charming grin. “The gods can only give out so many blessings in one person before they decide that’s enough.”

Oh Gods, he was really cute, with wildly curly, golden blond hair and darkly tanned skin covered in freckles all across his cheekbones and the bridge of his flat, ovine nose. These satyrs were less humanoid in the face than others you’d seen in the city, with little sheep-like noses and split upper lips, and ears shaped just like those of a goat or a sheep. His horns were twice the size of his mother��s; thick, fluted and solid as carved stone as they circled around his fluffy ears and ended just beneath them in an upward flick.  

“I’m Lyall,” he added, still smiling at you.

You offered your name in return, but your smile slipped along with the strap of the heavy bag on your shoulder and you winced.

“Here, let me take that up for you,” Lyall frowned, leaving the kitchen doorway and stalking down the hall towards you with one strong-looking hand outstretched.

Read the whole thing over on Patreon now, as well as my entire backlog of stories, plus the NSFW chapters of ShipMates (poly not-yautja x f. reader nsfw, multi chapter) and Laces for a Lady (poly m/m/f bucca x selkie x f. human, set in 18th century smuggling Cornwall), and much more! Plus there's Oats the dad-bod biker kelpie Part Two coming very soon! It's a steamy one! Looking forward to seeing you over there!

[moonloredraws]

Who will YOU choose?

[cozycryptidcorner]

and i give you all the yassified version of the vvitch.

Jahzeiah is a newcomer to your colony! he came from one just beyond the mountains. why did he leave? oh. uh...

everyone is shocked and in awe that he managed to survive the bacchanal demons lurking in the forest! surely this is all god's plan, after all, what else could have protected him thru the dangers of this strange new planet?

he seems kind of familiar! even though you've never seen him before. everything about him feels like... like you should know. as if he's a home you were never supposed to leave.

he keeps sneaking glances at you. talking to you whenever it's possibly appropriate. but the holy leader is becoming bitter and suspicious...

[eruden-writes]

Feed the Fever - Part 2 (Cyd x Mara)

Summary: Mara Sweet hated her satyr colleague, Cyd Stylcock. He was obnoxious, flirtatious, always late with the paperwork, and - worse - everyone seemed to love him. His presence just further aggravated Mara after her messy break-up. And to make matters worse, she was coming down with a fever.

Something in Mara snaps when Cyd, bringing his paperwork in at the last possible second, waltzes into her office. Dizzy from fever, she does something she never thought she'd do in a million years: grope her colleague.

x x x

Previous | Masterlist (coming soon)

x x x

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:3c

x x x

Silence settled heavily in the examination room. Mara stared, wide-eyed, at Dr. Agnosta, a gnoll individual. The doctor sat stiffly on a rolling stool, face sober and not betraying a hint of amusement. The barren nature of the exam room gave plenty of space for the quiet to settle uncomfortably around the two of them. Though Dr. Agnosta seemed undaunted by it, merely holding Mara’s gaze.

A sense of queasiness was overcoming Mara’s fever. “Can you repeat that?”

“You are cubare,” Dr. Agnosta repeated, noisily tapping their claws on the tablet in their hands they scrolled through the notes. One of their tattered ears twitched. They squinted at something, their eyes flickering. A second later, Mara realized they had been reviewing the lab work. “You’re about one-eighth cubare.”

That meant one of her great-grandparents was from the Infernal realm? Or, well, one of her grandparents liaised with someone of the Infernal realm, at least. Mara racked her brain, trying to remember anything she could of the relations, but nothing came to mind.

Her shoulders slumped, still seated on the examination table and dressed in the patient gown. Dr. Agnosta had ordered a blood test as soon as Mara mentioned Cyd’s damned theory. She would have never brought it up had she known there was an inkling of possibility to it. There had to be another reason, right?

“So this fever is…” Mara hated how breathless she sounded. It was like her every action tinged with flirtation. She didn’t even try to sound like that!

“Colloquially known as Cubi Fever. It does not affect all cubare severely, since cubare live with their enhanced sexual capabilities daily.” Dr. Agnosta set aside the tablet, seated on a stool by a minimalistic desk. If they noticed Mara’s suggestive breathlessness, they made no indication. The doctor crossed their ankle over their knee, leaning back a little as they took on a learned air while explaining, “In your case, it is possible your cubare genes took longer to activate and losing your source of sexual relief, well… You are more prone to ill-thought reactions than a cubare who has lived with this all their life.”

That didn’t sound hopeful. Mara sighed, crossing her arms and looking down at her still socked feet. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Find a source of sexual relief.” They shrugged and smiled sympathetically when Mara shot them an aggravated look.

“Anything else?” She tried not to bite the words out. It was difficult since her thoughts lingered back to Cyd, who she last saw still seated in the waiting area. There was no way he was still there. Besides, she wasn’t desperate enough to boink someone that hated her.

The doctor hummed, considering the options. After a moment, they admitted with a hesitant voice, “I can provide a suppressant. However, due to the low-content of your cubare blood, it may not help. It might even—”

“I don’t care what the side effects are. Give me the suppressant.”

Dr. Agnosta stared at Mara for a long moment, their eyebrows furrowed and snout wrinkling. They obviously had concerns about this particular treatment path. Mara just met the doctor’s eyes head-on, trying to convey she was absolutely certain this was the direction she wanted.

Eventually, Dr. Agnosta sighed and shook their head and stood from the stool. “Alright then. I’ll write you a prescription. You may get dressed now. The prescription will be ready up front when you check out.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Relief fluttered in Mara as she watched the gnoll doctor leave, a smile on her lips. Once the door shut behind them, Mara went about re-dressing in her work clothes. At the back of her mind, she already made plans to swing by the grocery store - with the pharmacy she used - and pick up an easy dinner to treat herself.

x x x

Once dressed and given her discharge papers, Mara made her way back out to the waiting area to check out. A cursory glance around the waiting room confirmed Cyd had left. Good. She didn’t need his smug face poking around her business.

The relief was short-lived.

As soon as Mara exited the urgent care clinic, Cyd hopped up from a stone bench. “Hey! So, what’s the prognosis?”

“Why are you still even here?” Surprise had Mara rooted to the spot, but a scowl quickly overcame her shock.

“Moral support?” He carelessly shrugged, grinning at her in a way that made Mara’s blood boil. Just not in a way she usually anticipated.

Turning on her heel, she snorted and started marching down the street. “Like hell I’m telling you.”

Cyd’s footfalls followed after as he jogged to catch up with Mara. Coming up alongside her, he bent low, his grin growing. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Believe what you want.” She didn’t even glance at him. Only kept her eyes locked forward, forcing her feet to continue on the path she had already decided on. He had to have something better to do, didn’t he? Still without looking at him, she pointedly hissed, “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Other than here?”

Making a show of scratching his goatee, Cyd hummed before shaking his head definitively. “Nah, not til seven.”

Mara turned sharply toward Cyd, her purse lifting up and smacking him from the centrifugal force. “Stop following me.”

Raising his hands, he took a step back, offering an awkward smile and nod to a passing group of - rightfully concerned - people. “Hey, hey, hey, I’m not following you. I just happen to be going where you’re going.”

“Uh huh, what are you getting, Cyd?” She planted her hand on her cocked hip, expression scathingly skeptical. Upon her response and familiar usage of a name, the group continued walking. She could’ve bit her tongue for not using concerned strangers to her benefit.

With the eyeballers gone, Cyd relaxed a little. His eyes flicked back to her as he rubbed his neck in an obviously overacting sort of way. “Ah, well, I forgot the name of the store, but I’ll remember when we get there.”

“You’re insufferable,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It could be a completely plausible excuse. She knew it wasn’t a coincidence, but it could be. Cyd wasn’t doing anything particularly wrong. The two were co-workers, he walked with her to the clinic, and now he was walking with her to the store, because he ‘happened to be going that way.’ If she called the authorities, they wouldn’t be able to do anything.

Besides, she didn’t actually want him to get in legal troubles for whatever he was pulling. He could very well be concerned about the welfare of others. Or maybe Cyd just wanted to try to get in her pants, seeing as her hormones were in overdrive. That thought made the mingling heat of aggravation and horniness flare. Thankfully, the annoyance was much too powerful for her libido.

“Hey, I just want to make sure you’re not-” Before Cyd could finish the accusation of her jumping any random schmo on the street, Mara’s hand shot out to grab him by the shirt. A strangle yelp caught in his throat, but he bent to the sudden tug.

“Fine, you were right. The doctor says I’m one-eighth cubare. Happy?” Mara’s voice pitched low, nearly hissing as she glanced around. She didn’t want others on the street to hear about her very personal affairs. Just the thought made her cheeks flush and discomfort crawl over her skin. “It wasn’t a problem when I had a boyfriend and a steady intimate life, but without him…”

“Cubi fever,” Cyd finished, mirroring Mara’s tone. Her eyes flickered to the satyr man’s face, finding the slight curl of smugness in his smile. But there was something else there. A softness - maybe sympathy - in his eyes.

Her attention dropped from Cyd’s face to her fist clenching his shirt. A thick floof of fur spilled out from the strained fabric and it took all of Mara’s attention to not touch it with her free hand. No matter how soft it looked.

Mara pulled away from him, clenching both her hands so tight her nails dug into her palms. Anything to keep that inquisitive itch from doing something she’d regret. Her heels clacked angrily across the sidewalk as she once again marched away from Cyd. “Whatever. I’m going to the pharmacy now for my prescription.”

Behind her, Cyd’s footfalls followed after. She barely refrained from groaning as mischief colored his next words. “What a coinky-dink, I need to go to the pharmacy too.”

“How convenient,” Mara drawled, sarcasm laden on her tongue. She continued forward, clutching her purse and refusing to look back at the satyr.

“Isn’t it just,” Cyd chuckled, the deep resonant sound like warm molasses oozing down her spine.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Cyd still grinning, though following a little behind her. His thumbs were hooked into his pockets and his posture oozed confident ease. There was a brief moment when she was tempted to do something to wipe that annoying smile off his face, to add a thread of awkward tension in his body language. Maybe drag him into a parking garage or alleyway, somewhere a little more private to-

No, no, no. Mara bit her tongue, trying to distract herself from the lurid images dancing around her brain.

Gods, she needed to get to that pharmacy. But she wasn’t about to run in heels nor have Cyd chase after her. The very thought made a hot melty ball of something churn in her center.

[comewithmeintothedeep]

Masc!Reader X Satyrs

Word Count: 7419 Explicit: Yes. Warnings: Public sex, gangbang, dubcon, marathon sex, rimming, anal.

——————————————————

You were always close with your grandfather. When your family moved away, he did everything he could to support you and your parents financially. Your tongue wasn’t quite as advanced as his, the old coot being able to speak fluently in both Greek and English. You knew some Greek, both your parents spoke it, but you were far better at understanding it than speaking it.

You could speak it, if you had to. Your sentences were very broken and informal, though. And oftentimes, you needed to pause to translate slowly in your head or fish for the specific word you were looking for. And it could get kinda embarrassing sometimes.

But your grandfather was always patient with you. Whenever your parents spoke to you in Greek, you responded in English. Your grandfather took the effort to try and teach it to you. And at this point, you could at least read it and understand how to pronounce the words, even if you couldn’t quite translate them well just yet. And your grammar has certainly improved. You at least knew how to properly conjugate your verbs and understood the mechanics of casual conversation much better.

You couldn’t imagine a world without your grandfather in it.

Until one day, he died. You weren’t a little kid anymore, you were an adult who was still wondering what to do with your life. The loss hit you hard, and you weren’t even sure what path you wanted to pursue in life.

You were shocked when your grandfather left you the largest sum of his money in his will and his home in Greece. You did take more language classes growing up and learn more Greek, but you weren’t entirely sure if you should take the house. You were tempted to give your house to your parents.

But they insisted that you should have it. Your grandfather did leave it to you, after all. And you were curious to actually experience Greece for yourself for the first time. Living there would be pretty interesting.

And who knows? Maybe you’d be able to find a way to live your life, there. Maybe the answer would come to you and you’d finally know what to actually do with your life. As sad as the circumstances around it made you feel, your grandfather made sure you were set for a very long time.

You were going to make sure to be responsible with that money.

With help from your parents, you packed your essentials with you, paying extra to bring extra suitcases on the plane with you that you could carry. Everything else you could potentially need, but weren’t urgent, your parents would ship to you.

While you were excited, you were afraid. You were nervous. You had never been this far from your parents before and certainly not to a completely different country. But deep down, you felt this was the right thing to do.

Your grandfather left you this house for a reason. You would be a fool not to trust him now that he was gone.

Arriving at the airport in Ioannina, you began to realize that navigating was a lot easier than you thought it would be. Once you were out in the world on your own, your innate sense of and desire for independence took hold, and you managed to navigate to the harbour on the island.

Apparently your grandfather’s house was just on the outskirts of the main city, a bus drive away from the main hub of the city. And you had to admit, when you were traveling and seeing the sights on your way, you couldn’t help but find it all incredibly beautiful! All the architecture and the greenery was something so much more special than at home. It was on the western shore of Lake Pamvotis.

It was easy for you to settle into the idea that you were going to live here. It was nothing short of enchanting to be here in Greece. You had a feeling you were going to get used to living here.

Thankfully, the address of your grandfather’s house was not too far, but once you laid eyes on it, you were shocked at just how nice it was. It was far up a hill, decently removed from neighbours, and it was a sizable property. Even on the front door, you could see a balcony overlooking a waterfall that led to what looked like a comfortable and nice-looking spring, completely private and secluded.

The house itself had a spectacular view of the lake and the city beside it.

You couldn’t believe your grandfather lived here all by himself. But then again, now that you were, you had a feeling you were going to experience the magic that he experienced that made him stay for most of his life.

Quickly, you brought your things inside and began to plan.

Most of your stuff was going to be mailed to you, so all you really had were the essentials. Hygiene, clothes, entertainment items, whatever you deemed necessary to have in the meantime of getting the rest of your stuff for you to move in with. Thankfully, the bed wasn’t much of an issue. It was actually quite nice, and very big. You were pretty sure it was a king sized bed.

The bathroom was even more spacious. You were pretty sure this was meant for a party, not for a single person. Though, then again, your grandfather’s place did used to house multiple people. It was meant for a whole family.

It just turned out that he would wind up living in the house alone for the rest of his life. And now, it was yours. He wanted you to have it.

Could you live like that? Maybe he wanted you to start a family in it someday. There was certainly space for it. And you could definitely imagine bringing someone home with you in a place like this.

You were tempted to take a nap, but the jet lag would mess you up if you slept too early and you were curious about the outside of the house as much as you were curious about the inside. So, after having settled down and put your stuff where it needed to be, you decided to walk out the back of the house to make your way down to the spring you saw. It was what immediately drew your eye.

What you didn’t know was that you weren’t alone. In fact, you had quite a few pairs of eyes on you staring at you from where you couldn’t quite see. But they saw you coming…and they knew you were there. “A shame, really…” The leader said, running his hand over his neck as he looked to his companions. “He lived a good long life, but it’s still quite tragic to see him gone so soon.”

“He was always so kind to us.” One of the males replied solemnly. Though, he couldn’t help but be curious about you as you made your way down the stone steps. “Is this the grandson?”

“It must be.” Another one of the males replied. “He did speak rather fondly of him. What was the name he gave us? (Name)? Yes, that’s it.”

The remaining male stayed silent, but the female was practically bouncing on her cervine haunches, little tail flickering with excitement. “Ohhh, he’s so cute! Can we meet him, please?”

The leader pauses, looking at his little enclave with a bemused grin. Naturally, they would want to welcome you to your new home. And he knew your grandfather well enough to know that he would have wanted you to have someone to help you. Someone to show you around.

He waved a hand to the female and chuckled. “You can go welcome him.” The leader gave her his blessing. “Try not to jump on him too quickly, he doesn’t know we live here or that we exist. Ease him into it and give him a warm welcome.”

Eagerly giggling, she trotted away into the undergrowth and made her way to the spring, out of your sight as you made your way down the stone stairs.

You had to admit, this spring looked even more serene up close. It was like something out of a Greek painting. It was easy to see how the ancients saw such beautiful places and imagined nymphs and other playful creatures. Creatures that were as alluring as they were dangerous, ones that would trick you with promises of pleasure and euphoria while you wasted away in blissful ignorance.

The story of the lotus eaters was one that tended to stick in your mind the most out of all of those fables.

Comforted and assured by the privacy of your grandfather’s – your home’s spring – you began to disrobe and strip down. It was still difficult to think of this place as your own. And now that you were out here, you began to feel the weight of your solitude and you began to feel lonely. Here you were, without your family here with you for the first time in your life.

You were completely on your own. It was equal parts exciting…and lonely.

Breathing a solitary sigh, you slid off your underwear and tepidly slipped into the water. It was cool, but not cold. Whether it was because of the hot weather or because of how seemingly fresh and clean the water was, it was a welcome sensation. It helped to wash off the brief solitary feeling.

Meanwhile, while you were naked and submerged in the water, you were blissfully unaware of the growing presence swimming towards you. She was eager to meet you, if you were anything like your grandfather. You must be kind if he trusted you with his house.

You didn’t slip far enough away that your feet were unable to touch the rocks beneath your feet, so you didn’t feel unsafe. You weren’t exactly up for a full-on swim, right now. Maybe tomorrow.

The sound of water splashing made you snap your head in its direction. When your gaze met the dark eyes of an (admittedly very beautiful) woman swimming towards you, you instinctively covered yourself. Damn it! You should’ve thought about the neighbours. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to – I didn’t think anyone –”

“Oh! You speak English!” She replied. She didn’t seem fazed at all by your very clear nakedness. In-fact, when you got a good look at her when she drew closer, you realized she was also naked.

Very very naked. You couldn’t help but stare. “Y-yeah, and also Greek.” You stammered. You didn’t want to seem like you were a complete newbie or a tourist. “I can speak Greek, too. Though, it is my second language.”

“Oh, don’t worry! You don’t have to feel shy. We’re going to be neighbours from now on, after all.” She seemed so chipper. You had to admit, you’d heard Greek accents in your family before, but you had no idea that it would sound so attractive from someone like your newcomer.

Getting a closer look beyond her rather prominent bust, you were met with both an alluring and a perplexing visual. Her skin was a dark tan common among the local population, with curly dark hair to accompany it. But from her hair, were a pair of small horns and a pair of goatlike ears.

It was quite cute, actually. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized. Especially with the depths of her chocolate brown eyes staring back at you. “R-right, neighbours.” You found it very difficult to speak either of the languages you knew. “And is this normal for you?”

She simply shrugged. “It’s nothing unusual for us.” She replied, growing closer. You were starting to realize how close she was getting to you and you instinctually backed up against the lip of the natural spring, unsure of how appropriate or inappropriate this situation was. “We’ve always had rather close relationships with the people who live here. We do live for a very long time, after all.”

You supposed that made sense – wait, what? Before you could even question that, the woman was much closer to you, practically pressed up against you. Her breasts were pressed right up against your chest and you had to swallow to maintain even a modicum of decency in her presence. The only place else your eyes were willing to fixate on were her eyes.

Her very beautiful, dark, and deep eyes. Deep and rich and warm, swirling with a sweet enticement.

Oh dear.

“What’s your name?” She suddenly asked you, as if this situation was completely normal.

Trying desperately not to let your now conspicuous erection touch her (lest you be accused of acting indecently), you coughed a little, trying to back up to create some distance between you. You weren’t even sure if giving your name was wise, but your better wit was preoccupied with other prospects at the moment. “E-erm…it’s (Name).”

The spritely woman smiled back. You felt lighter than air. “That’s a cute name. I’m Gianna.”

If she thought your name was nice, hers was beautiful. “It’s n-nice to meet you, Gianna.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, (Name).” Your name sounded so sweet on her tongue. You couldn’t help but melt. But as you continued to subconsciously walk backwards, you realized you were slowly rising out of the water. If you rose any further, she would see your desperate erection popped up and ready to go against your will.

You couldn’t embarrass yourself in front of such a beautiful woman. Not like this.

But then, before you could even realize it, an ill-placed footstep landed you in a position most compromising, flat on your back, and completely exposed.

Instinctively, your hands flew down to cover your dripping goods, face deeply flushed with crimson shame. A profuse number of frantic apologies fumbled out of your lips. You were so distracted with your embarrassment that you didn’t even notice that Gianna had brushed your hands away and that her lips were wrapped around you.

A shudder wracked your whole body as she sucked deeply, taking you all the way to the hilt without hesitation and suckling as she slowly pulled off, releasing you with a wet pop and a pleasured sigh. You, in turn, couldn’t help but slump against the cool stone against your backside. Without realizing it, your hands were on her head, buried in her gorgeous curly hair, fingers tracing the base of her horns.

They felt so real. And her mouth felt so warm and soft.

“Relax. I want to get to know you, (Name).” Gianna murmured to you, your hard cock resting against her cheek as she glanced up at you between her elegant eyelashes. “Relax. Let’s get acquainted, shall we?”

If you were a wiser man, you would have seen the warning signs and run away.

But at the moment, wise you were not, and you were absolutely picking up what she was laying down. You softly caressed her horns with your hands, sighing blissfully before getting a firm grip on them. “I like the sound of that.”

Without hesitation, you slid your cock right past her plush lips and shuddered contentedly when you felt her tongue lavish your shaft and her swallow around your tip, sucking you in and welcoming you completely. You barely even started and you weren’t sure if a blowjob could ever feel this good. “Ahhh…fuck.” You hissed through your teeth, shallowly thrusting your hips into her mouth.

Gianna was holding onto your thighs, sucking your cock diligently once you took control. And she wasn’t modest about it. Not that she was being sloppy, she was just thoroughly enjoying herself. Something you felt quite prideful of. You’ve never met someone who had shown such a strong interest in you so soon, but right now you were quite the sucker for those beautiful brown eyes.

And they were staring up at you intently through her long dark eyelashes.

If Gianna had her way, she’d have been on you immediately. But, she wanted to make sure you were receptive. That wouldn’t make for a good first impression if she made for a bad neighbour. After all, you were going to be living close to each other for a good long while. She needed to be hospitable.

So many events to invite you to! She hadn’t had someone to invite to cultural events in decades. She was so excited to finally be able to include someone! And a human, too! Her people have had somewhat of a bad reputation from ancient times. Whether it be as sex-crazy maniacs or laughingstocks. Granted, they were a jovial celebratory sort with a virile inclination, but they were hardly barbarians.

They weren’t centaurs, after all.

Though, they did have rather intense emotions. Whatever they felt at any given time, they felt a lot of it. Sex was a part of their culture. It was a way to relieve tensions between parties, as well as stress and to let off steam. It wasn’t uncommon for those events to be public. Rival clans often consummated their conflicts publicly as a show of good will.

To demonstrate to their people that there was no bad blood and all was resolved.

Of course, intense shows of dominance between enemies weren’t necessarily uncommon, but it was far more frowned upon to do so.

In-fact, this was, in a way, a part of her culture, too. A sort of initiation. A way of saying ‘welcome, please feel free to make yourself at home, we’re happy to have you here.’

Gianna was the designated diplomat of her small group. She had the natural charisma and patience for the job. You’d understand once you got a more official welcome from everyone.

Meanwhile, you were just enjoying the best head you had ever gotten. You couldn’t help yourself. You picked up the pace, smacking your hips against her lips, breaths coming out rapidly. Your abdomen was beginning to feel tight. No, you couldn’t cum this soon! It was too early to bust a load. You wanted this to last longer!

You didn’t want Gianna to just be done with you and move on. You wanted more from her than this.

Exercising painful self-control, you stopped her, pulling her off your cock with heavy panting. A string of saliva and precum was connecting her tongue to your tip and the blissed out look on her face made you leak conspicuously more.

The woman blinked up at you in confusion. Why did you stop? You weren’t finished and you seemed like you were close. Wait! Oh. You wanted more than this. She didn’t realize you were so eager to be welcomed. She’d get to signal the others to welcome you, too. But, she still had a job to do and she refused to disappoint.

You were just wanting a little break to not blow your load too soon. But you felt her shift and you grabbed a hold of her in a panic. You didn’t want her to go, yet.

But then, as she shuffled towards you, you realized Gianna wasn’t leaving. She had her hips positioned right above yours, angling herself above your cock. But as you took a look at her, you realized with a shock that either she was a really skilled cosplayer…

Or Gianna was an honest to gods satyr.

Your hands found purchase on her hips, the fur being much softer than you were expecting, though still wet. The dark fur matched her curly hair and on each side of you, splayed out so she could maintain balance and support herself, were a pair of goat legs. Nimble and bowed. Graceful.

And honestly, beautiful.

You were about to comment on it before suddenly she began to sink down on your member, her warm and incredibly slick walls enveloped you, welcoming you into her plush, soft, and pretty pussy. You weren’t sure if women could be so warm and wet, but here you were, hips flush and losing your mind over how good it felt just to be sheathed inside of her.

Looking down at you, Gianna couldn’t get enough of you. Yes, this was an entirely diplomatic thing, but you were just so cute. So handsome. She liked you already. You were going to get along nicely with the others. She hoped the leader would like you just as much.

But she was getting needy, her clit getting twitchy rubbing up against you. The satyr needed to be satiated and she wanted to satiate you as well. It wasn’t fair if she was the only one having fun.

Having an unsatisfied partner was nothing short of unacceptable.

Leaning down, Gianna ran her fingers through your hair, smiling down at you sweetly while she held your chin in her hand. You felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. Was this a dream? It had to be. There was no way a woman or an experience this blissful could be real.

You must have fallen asleep in this house and this was your wet dream. A bit of an odd time for it, but you weren’t really complaining right now.

Suddenly, Gianna leaned down and pressed her soft lips to yours, hands holding onto and caressing your face. She kissed you deeply, slipping her tongue past your own and you kissed her back just as fervently. She tasted like chocolate and wine. What a wonderful combination of flavours!

Then, her hips began to bounce and you were just about to lose your mind. The friction and the slick warm of her pulsating walls was making your head swim. And she wasn’t being slow about it, either. She was riding you vigorously, the wet sounds of her hips slapping against yours louder than the sound of the spring around you.

You couldn’t hold back the sounds you were making, moaning and groaning into her mouth. Your sensitive tip was being squeezed and sucked in by her warm walls, brushing up against her core as she rode you. All you could do was hold onto her shoulders and let her hold you. Gianna was making an absolute mess of you and you welcomed it completely and fully.

Not realizing that the pair of you had an audience. A few pairs of dark eyes were fixed on you two, Gianna making quite the show for them. The men were muttering amongst themselves while she fucked you, eagerly hopping on their hooves. “Gianna wasn’t kidding, he is cute.”

“Isn’t he, Manolis?” The three of them weren’t too difficult to tell apart. All three of them had curly hair, but they looked distinct. The one speaking had short curly dark hair and he sported a well-kept goatee. “Gianna did a very nice job getting him warmed up to us.”

“A shame she didn’t get to finish giving him oral, though.” The one with long dark hair lamented with a disappointed hum.

Rolling his eyes, the one with facial hair bumped him with his elbow. “I’m sure Gianna won’t mind you doing that favour for her once she’s done with our new neighbour.”

The only blond one between them, folded his arms. “Hopefully she’ll be done soon…I want a turn.”

“Don’t worry.” The goateed one replied eagerly. “We’ll all get a turn soon.”

You were none the wiser to the quiet discussion happening adjacent to you. You were far too preoccupied with Gianna bouncing rapidly on your cock. It was almost too much. She was so fast! It was honestly impressive how strong she must be with her stamina. There was no was that she was inexperienced. It was impossible for her to be.

Gianna could feel you twitching. Even with her speed, she could feel you twitching. You were ready to cum, your voice hitching while you kissed. She couldn’t be happier to make you cum. It would be the first of many. And then, the others could join in, too.

But suddenly, you managed to surprise her. Throwing your arm around her back, you flipped the both of you over, straddling her and pounding into her. Gianna began to cry out, so pleased that you were so accepting of the initiation. She held onto you fast and tight, clinging to you while you pistoned into her rapidly.

You were unbearably close. And in no time at all, with a harsh snap of your hips and a heady groan, you came inside of her, burying herself into her as deeply as you could. You weren’t sure if you’d ever come so hard, but fuck, it felt so good. You kept thrusting shallowly into Gianna as you came, kissing at her neck and fondling her chest.

She was more than content to just let you bask in your afterglow. She wasn’t done yet, but she had a much higher libido than humans could keep up with. She couldn’t blame you for finishing so soon.

While Gianna was busy carding her fingers through her hair, the peanut gallery that had been observing you decided to come into full view, she giving them a greeting. “Γειά σου!”

Wait, who was she saying hello to?

Before you had a chance to ask, you came face to face with a man’s cock. Looking up, you saw a very pretty looking man attached to a pair of porcelain furred goat legs. The man had a very soft-looking face, but the same chocolate-hued dark eyes that Gianna had.

You were taken completely aback. Had they been watching you and Gianna have sex this whole time? Probably. Satyrs and their insatiable sex drives. That much you knew about them for certain. “Γειά σου! I’m Manolis.” He introduced, taking your chin in his and lifting you up into a sitting position to face him. You couldn’t help but be entranced by him.

Another satyr walked behind him, giving Manolis a kiss before approaching Gianna. His hair was long and curly like Manolis’s, but much darker. He had a bit of a sharper face than Manolis.

Gianna’s eyes widened at the sight of him. “Γειά σου, Filippos!” Was all that came out of her mouth before the male satyr – Filippos – lined his erection up with her mouth and thrust it in, the woman clinging to his hips while he began to fuck her face.

The brazen sight of it had you transfixed. Long enough for you to not notice the presence looming behind you.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands on your ass, pulling your cheeks apart. Behind you, the goateed satyr whistled at the sight of you. He had a feeling both you and Gianna would enjoy this, but he didn’t want to alarm you. It was time for the rest of the satyr men to welcome you into their enclave. “Γειά σου! Don’t worry, just getting you ready. My name is David.” He introduced to you.

You were beginning to feel a bit nervous. Your dick was still inside of Gianna, who was now getting a face full of cock from Filippos, who glanced back at you with a quirky smile. “Γειά σου! What’s your name?”

Clearly, Gianna wasn’t in a position to answer for you, so you had to. “(N-Name).” You replied hastily, blinking up at them dumbfounded. Was this how they always greeted neighbours? This felt a bit odd.

Suddenly, you gasped. “A-aaaaaaah!” A shocked yelp that turned into a moan spilled out of your lips when you suddenly felt a tongue swipe up your hole. You tried to wiggle away from it, shocked at the sudden intrusion, before Manolis took your chin in his hand and suddenly kissed you, tongue and all. All the while, you were getting stimulation from all sides. Your cock was still inside of Gianna, whose insides were now clenching and twitching around you with Filippos being busy with her mouth, your ass which was being rimmed by David, and Manolis who was kissing you.

On top of the fact that you had just cum. You were very sensitive right now. You weren’t exactly prepared for this level of attention from multiple parties.

Manolis pulled away from you and caressed your face. “Don’t worry, (Name).” He purred sweetly at you, his voice smooth (and honestly, very attractive), as he addressed you directly.

The blond satyr suddenly pulled you up a bit, lining his cock up with your mouth. “We’ll take good care of you.”

Before you could protest, Manolis suddenly pushed himself into your mouth with a drawn out groan, and behind you, David was suckling on your hole, having wormed his tongue inside of you. “Γαμώ, είναι ωραία...” Manolis grunted lowly, his hands gripping your jaw tightly as he kept himself sheathed in your mouth. You didn’t hate the taste, it was simply unexpected.

So much stimulation. It was drowning your brain in so much sensation. Your asshole was twitching and tightening around David’s tongue, practically kissing him back, and your cock was twitching inside of Gianna while she was getting facefucked by Filippos. And your mouth was full of Manolis’s cock.

By the time he started to move his hips in shallow thrusts into your mouth, the scene became a steamy visage of heady grunts and groans from the satyr men and needy whines from you and Gianna. You couldn’t help yourself. This all felt so fucking good! You were thrusting shallowly into Gianna while David was eating your ass and you were happy to let Manolis use your mouth like a fleshlight, your jaw going slack.

What a whore you easily became.

Your abdomen was growing tight again, but you had far less control this time. Manolis had a tight grip on your jaw and David held fast onto your hips. By the time he had finally released his lips and tongue from your hole, it was flaring at the absence. And you realized just how empty you felt. How needy you felt.

There was a pause you felt as David stood up. You tried to tilt your head to get a better look, but Manolis simply held your head in place. “Ah ah ah, τα μάτια πάνω μου, σέξι.” Fuck, Greek sounded so fucking hot coming from these satyrs. “Be patient.”

Manolis loved the look on your face. So shocked, yet so needy. You let yourself be used so easily. He already knew he was going to love having you around. All your needs would be met. You would be provided for and cared for. You would be theirs. A part of their little clan.

All that was necessary was for their leader to approve.

The blond satyr’s cock was already very nice and happy in your mouth. You took him so well and your mouth was so warm. You swallowed him so nicely and your lips were so soft. You kept your teeth tucked away very politely. Manolis wouldn’t be letting go of you anytime soon.

David, meanwhile, exchanged a look with Manolis. Such good hips for holding onto. Such a nice plump ass to knead and spread. He hoped you would be ready to take him fully, now. He wanted to give you a proper welcome as part of their group. Gianna was first as a matter of course, but now you had to run by them.

But David already liked you. The bearded satyr enjoyed how you shook your hips for him. And the sound you made the moment he touched his tongue to your needy hole made him fall for you so quickly. He was going to enjoy plowing into your lovely little plush ass.

Careful, now…

You were waiting. Waiting desperately for whatever was going to happen next to just happen. They’d gotten you so worked up and you just wanted to get fucked, already. Damn it, just do it!

Soon, you felt a blunt hot head push into your slick ass and you whined at the intrusion, trying to grab onto anything to keep yourself steady. Manolis was holding you up by your head and David was holding you by the ass, groaning and hissing through his teeth as he slowly slid into you.

Your hand held onto someone else’s, their fingers interlacing with yours. When you glanced away from Manolis, you found yourself looking at Filippos, still happily fucking Gianna’s face from above while holding onto your hand.

It was strangely intimate, being connected to all four of them at once in some way.

Eventually, David managed to fully sheathe himself inside of you. It was a tight fit, but you managed. And he loved how you squeezed around him. You were holding him in a vice grip, so hot and wet for him. Shallowly, he began to thrust into you, making you whine.

You felt so full. There was not a part of your body that wasn’t being used in some way and you felt so fulfilled. You had never felt so complete. If this was really a dream, you didn’t want it to end.

After a few moments, getting used to the feeling of David being inside of you, suddenly you felt his hips snap into your ass, pushing you forward and into Gianna, making her yelp. Unbeknownst to you, David had lurched forward and pulled Manolis into a heated kiss, starting to pound into your ass while he started to fuck your face in earnest.

Even Filippos didn’t want his mouth to go unused, so leaned forward and started to rim Manolis.

It was an entire circle connected, and you were at its centre, the central figure in this wonderful Greek orgy.

Your ass was being pounded mercilessly while your cock was being drilled into Gianna once more. It was like David was fucking her through you. It was a feeling you had never felt and you loved it. Every time he pulled away, you just wanted him closer. His thrusts were quickly pushing you to the edge. It was no surprise when you finally came, cumming in a heated sloppy mess inside Gianna. But the satyrs still weren’t done.

They kept fucking you even after you had cum again. But even then, your intense orgasm had you squealing and whining desperately like a bitch in heat. And it was a huge turn-on for them. Manolis could feel you hungrily and needily swallow him down and David could feel your walls flutter around his throbbing cock as he pounded away at your prostate. And Gianna could feel herself growing closer with every harsh thrush by David and the constant throbbing and pulsing of your cock inside of her.

Soon enough, it was too much even for them. All in unison, they all came with a loud wanton groan all, Gianna crying out lewdly around Filippos’s cock. You could feel it all around you. You could feel Filippos’s hand squeezing yours, Gianna’s pussy contracting and sucking your cock in, your ass fluttering around David’s pulsating dick, filling you to the brim with rivulets of hot cum warming you from the inside, and Manolis’s cock throbbing against your tongue and into your throat, filling you up from the other end.

On and on this went for the whole day, all of you taking turns fucking each other in so many different positions. You were simultaneously treated like a previous queen and like a whore. Over and over, the satyrs all lavished you with sexual attention. Their stamina impressed you. Even when you were limp and unable to move, they still could not stop fucking you every which way.

At some point, they were able to take you in the same hole, stretching you out with Gianna on your lap.

By the time the final participant would arrive, you were laying on your back. Manolis was riding your cock facing away from you. Filippos was also on his back across from you, with his hands on your hips and his length buried in your ass with your feet caging his own furred abdomen. And lastly, David had his cock down Filippos’s throat while he was sucking Manolis off. All the while Gianna was riding your face, you eagerly lapping up all of her juices and gripping her hips while she eagerly bounced on your mouth.

All at once, the satyrs stopped what they were doing and stepped away from you, shuffling away. You were confused and whined from the absence. It suddenly felt so cold without them all.

When you cracked your eyes open, your eyes laid on the man they were all looking at. He was a satyr, like the rest of them, but he was much taller and stronger than them. He was built like he could pick you up without even trying. His fur was the darkest and he sported very long curly hair that cascaded down to his goat legs. His beard was well-kept and curly. It looked very soft.

He smiled down at you, picking you up in his arms bridal style. “Οπως ήσουν. Θα ήθελα να περάσω μια στιγμή μαζί του.” He ordered them in Greek. You understood what he said, and despite your limp body, you desperately hoped that he would want to fuck you, too. He looked so handsome and from what you could tell from the dynamic compared to the others, he seemed to be in charge.

Maybe they were getting you ready for him. Oh, the things you wanted him to do to you.

As he walked away with you in his arms, you could faintly hear the distant moans of the others continuing to have sex without you there. You immediately felt lonely and like you wanted to be back, but you nuzzled into the large satyr carrying you with desire.

You wanted him. You wanted him badly. So so so badly.

Soon enough, deep enough in the trees, the large satyr rested your back against a tree, holding you by your thighs as he stared at you intently. You were beginning to fall in love easily with the dark eyes of the satyrs.

This satyr didn’t waste his time. He lined you up with his cock and slid you right down onto it. You shuddered, immediately reaching up to link your arms around his shoulders. He held onto your hips, pressing you against the tree, and he smiled at you. He leaned forward to kiss you, his lips soft and inviting.

It felt so good to be a sheathe, again. You sorely missed the warmth and the reach deep inside of you. And you loved being pressed against him.

You sighed blissfully, reaching up to run your fingers through his long dark hair. He chuckled into the kiss and pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He seemed to enjoy this closeness with you. “Sorry for interrupting the welcoming party. They can be rather…eager. But I’m very happy to meet you.” He purred sweetly, kissing your neck and nipping at it while shallowly thrusting up into you. “My name is Iosif. I lead this little band of satyrs.”

His lips on your skin made you whine and his cock reaching inside of you made you feel needy. You felt like you wanted to be his for as long as possible. Iosif. What a lovely name. Despite being so fucked out, you managed your own, somehow. “(N…N-Name…)” You moaned lowly.

Iosif chuckled, kissing your lips again. “Don’t speak…I’ve got you.” He murmured, leaning into your ear. “Θα σε φροντίσω καλά, αγάπη μου.”

You felt like you were going to cum just from hearing that and Iosif could feel it when you tightened around his cock. Your own was throbbing against his abdomen, and the satyr noticed it. You were smearing precum and residual cum over his naval, but he didn’t mind.

Iosef enjoyed the group sex as much as any self-respecting satyr, but on some level, a welcoming should be special. As leader, he wanted to be with you one-on-one. At least the others did well in preparing you for him. He was worried he might accidentally break you.

But with how needily you were wriggling on his cock, Iosif figured you might be missing the sex. He would make sure you slept well tonight. “Now relax…άσε με να σου κάνω έρωτα.”

Immediately, Iosif’s lips were back on yours, and you reciprocated eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and he curled his around it, groaning happily. As he picked up the speed he thrusted up into you with, he supported your weight with one hand on your ass and the other wrapped around your sensitive cock, stroking it. You couldn’t do much to move, letting Iosif do as he pleased.

The satyr was putting more emphasis on depth than on force or speed with his thrusts, and you could feel it. You could feel how deeply he was reaching and how much he wanted you to feel it. Once again, you could feel your pleasure mounting, abdomen growing tight to the point of soreness while your dick twitched and throbbed in his hand. The several orgasms made you both numb and sensitive all at once. Somehow.

It didn’t take long before you started whining. Iosif purred at the response, feeling like you were going to cum soon. But that was alright. He had enough time to get his release, but he wanted to make sure you felt good before chasing his.

Because you’d better believe that he was going to chase it. He was only a satyr, after all.

Picking up the speed and leaning back a bit so that gravity added an extra oomph to the force of you coming down on him, Iosif pulled away and stared at you intensely, tightening the grip he had on your cock and upping the speed he was stroking it. He had his thumb on your tip, encouraging you to cum quickly.

He pecked at your lips between words while he fucked you in mid-air. “Αυτό είναι, όμορφη.” Iosif growled at you in Greek. “Ξετυλίγω. σε έχω. Να καταρρεύσει στα χέρια μου.”

It was all too much. Your body was so spent, but so sensitive, and with Iosif picking you up like this, aided by gravity, the force and depth of his thrusts combined with him stroking your cock the way he was made you completely fall apart in his arms.

With a loud lewd cry, you came, spurting hot cum all over his chest and spasming around his, trembling and shaking in his arms while Iosif closed the distance and kissed you, holding you close and shallowly thrusting into you.

He rocked into you, gently coasting you through your orgasm. You had felt so much more fulfilled in one day than you had ever felt in your entire life leading up to this point. You were whole. Complete.

And exhausted.

Iosif could tell how exhausted you were. But he couldn’t help it. He needed his release to make your welcoming official.

So, he found the nearest soft surface and laid you down, kissing you and caressing you all the while. One more…just one more and he’d let you rest. They’d all clean you up for the night and return you to your home so you could sleep. No doubt you’d be exhausted and incredibly dazed and sore. They would need to dote on you with food and other gifts.

But that was later. Now, Iosif needed to plow you until you were stuffed to the brim with his cum and leaking profuse amounts of it, blissed out and practically catatonic on his cock.

By the time Iosif was done with you, you were basically a hole with legs. After he was so sweet and gentle with you, the large satyr had thrown all caution to the wind and started to mercilessly pound at your ass, jerking you off all the while and driving you into the soft fragrant grass. His lips never left yours.

And although he promise he’d only have one last round with you, Iosif couldn’t help himself and squeezed in another with you in his lap, fucking up into you from below.

Once he was finished, you came together, and you were finally – finally – completely spent.

In an instant, you collapsed. Useless and unconscious. You were going to be feeling all of this for weeks, if not months.

Thank the gods that this was private property.

[evilblot]

Back by unpopular demand: my 3D bullshit <3c

[vesprynna]

🍂BELOVED - A Drawtober Comic 🍂

If you follow me on either Instagram or Twitter, you’ve already read this short dark fantasy romance comic, but for those who haven’t; this is my Drawtober project for this year :) I asked my followers on IG and my supporters on Ko-Fi to give me prompts or phrases to make artwork from. Originally I had planned to create illustrations but when I saw that the prompts my followers/supporters had given me made for a little story... I jumped in and made a comic instead.

I hope you’ll all enjoy reading this as much as I did making it 🧡 The beautiful quote at the end is part of a wonderful poem by Elizabeth Wesley called “Autumn Memories”, a poem I happened upon by chance while drawing this comic :)

[demigoddessqueens]

in the heavens, you and I

Summary: enjoying the solstice festival with a satyr lover

monster x human pairing, smut

A/n - Happy Saturnalia, Winter Solstice, May it be fruitful for you

It was the festival of Saturnalia, and with the festivities raging on in the cities and villages, you stole away for a moment to the intimacy of the woods.

He didn’t have to wait long for you as you raced over to the edge of the forest to catch him in a kiss.

“Mhmm…fresh wine, hope you saved enough for me, my love.”

You offered an impish smile before taking him by the hand and leading the way.

“I deduced we could offer our worship and praise in other ways. That is, if you have no objections?”

He caught the tone in your voice that signaled something beneficial to you both was to come.

Laying along the cloaks and furs you brought along, you soon added your robes to the pile as he helped stripped you down. As you peppered frantic kisses along the slight stubble of his face, you heard his hooves stamping in the snow with hot anticipation.

The fire that you had going was enough to keep you warm, aside from the touches and embraces of your woodland lover.

Sheathed inside of you elicited a sharp moan that only the birds would hear. Digging your nails into his sides, the delves of his back, you savored all of the love-making he gave you.

You felt him throb inside of you as your fingers brushed along his ornate antlers, and at the base they sprouted from at his head. The arousal between both your legs only grew more as you repeatedly bucked your hips to take all of him in.

The snow fell around you both but did little to thaw the ecstasy between you both that came with the festival. Having been spent after what felt like hours, you succumbed to the sleep as he traced his nimble fingers across your back and shoulders.

[deady-nightshade]

Male Drider (Bromley) x F!Reader. Part 1 🍉

Description: After comforting a tearful child, you unknowingly seal your fate with the reclusive Lord Bromley, a mourning widower and single father. He offers you a life filled with comfort, and the knowledge that your family will be cared for, on the contingency of marrying him and becoming his daughter’s stepmother. He promises to cherish you, but warns you that his heart is too damaged to be given to another. What will happen between you two once vows are said? What will happen when his heart begins to heal? And why does your heat skip a beat when you lock eyes with your husband? 

This story will most likely be composed of three parts, possibly four. 

Series Content: NSFW, driders/arachnids, loveless marriage, single father, mourning family, deceased wife, angst, learning to love again, step-mother, step-daughter, second wife, regency/Jane Austen era, old-fashioned terms, social classes/hierarchy, talk of children/family planning, and lots of domestic fluff. Not proofread. 

**Lord Bromley is a Masked Peacock Spider. His daughter is based off of a Maratus Constellatus (another type of Peacock Spider), and she resembles her deceased mother. And fun fact, I am an arachnophobe** 

Word Count: 3,526

Part 2 🍋

Click!

You removed the key from the lock, and jiggled the handle, sure enough, the door had locked properly. You slid the bronze key into your reticule, making sure to pull the drawstring closed. 

The dresses in the display window reflected the orange glow of the setting sun, and sending fractals of light every which way. A sense of peace washed over you and you pulled your shawl closer in an attempt to block out the spring chill. The earth around you was beginning to show signs of life, including the tulips in your flower bed; their green heads were starting to wiggle their way out the fertile soil and stretch towards the setting sun. 

The falls of your feet echoed faintly across the cobblestone sidewalk, and you hummed a tune that one of your patrons had sung earlier that day; you didn’t know the lyrics, but you did know the tune.  

You passed the market and wandered towards a stall that sold candies. The month’s bills had been paid, and for once, you found yourself with some extra cash, and you had been longing for something sweet all day. 

Your eyes scanned the goodies; marzipan, chocolate, butterscotch, and more. You were partial to chocolate, but you weren’t willing to pay that much for the treat. Instead, you settled on a small satchel of candied lemon peel. It was simple, but sweet enough that your craving would be satisfied. 

After paying the modest fee, the merchant handed you your spoils and you continued on your way. Expensive carriages passed in the roads and you followed them as they made their way to the opera house. For the past two months, the people of the opera had been practicing for their opening night of Cinderella. The lead, a siren named Pearl, who just so happened be your best friend, had given you a ticket as thanks for making her dress for free. 

You wanted to go and support her, but your father’s health had begun to take a turn for the worse, making it hard for you to sneak out; your mother needed help with the youngest children, and if you went, then they would want to go as well, and your family couldn’t afford the tickets. Pearl was understanding, and during her final fitting she had given you a special performance. 

As you passed the opera house, you noticed a drider child crying beside their carriage. Her long hair was falling out of its poor excuse for a braid, and she was covering her face with her two sets of hands, the color a soft beige.

You glanced around and frowned when you didn’t see anyone else. You contemplated on leaving her, seeing how she appeared be a daughter from a high-class, and you were nothing more than seamstress; a working woman, something that the upperclass frowned upon. 

You decided to leave her, but stopped after her cries became full-blown sobs.  Against better judgment, you spun on your heel and walked towards the girl. You kneeled down in front of her and gently placed your hands on her. She immediately stilled and lifted her head.

Like most driders, she had six eyes, three on either side of her face. They were dark in color, with a green, iridescent sheen to them. When the sunlight caught her hair, you were able to make out the color; chestnut with auburn streaks throughout. A shirt the color of plum hugged her small frame, and it was decorated with off-white lace. Her eight legs twitched nervously on the ground, and her large, spider bottom was plopped on the ground, making her slouched in a half-sitting, half-standing position. She was absolutely adorable. 

Her cool beige face darkened, and a blue tint painted her round cheeks. She wiped the tears from her face and pulled her lips into a pout. “Are you here to make fun of me too?” she demanded. 

“And why would I make fun of you?” You asked, reaching into your reticule and removing a handkerchief. You pressed the clean linen to her cheeks and brushed the hair from her face away. 

The girl looked at you with a harsh expression, and she tilted her head to the side so she could get a better look at you. You were used to being scrutinized, studied and talked about, seeing that you came from a poorer a family, and after years of work, you had learned to be proud of your upbringing; your parents showered you and your siblings with love; meals were accompanied with laughs and stories, and your house was filled with warmth of a loving family. 

After wiping her face clean, you handed the handkerchief and pointed to her runny nose. Her eight legs rubbed against one another in embarrassment, and she promptly blew her nose. 

You remembered the question that she had asked you, and felt your smile falter. “Did someone say something mean to you?”

The child nodded. “They made fun of my hair. Dad tried to braid it, but it didn’t come out so good.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement and met her eyes. “Would you like me to fix it for you?”  

“You’d really do that?” she asked, leaning closer to you. 

Without an ounce of grace, you fell back on your bottom and spread your legs. You patted the spot between them and the girl quickly settled in the space. the top her abdomen brushed your upper thighs and you marveled at the color of the hairs; the center was navy with golden speck, like stars in a night sky, and it was surrounded by bands of white and black, only for the black to fade to brown as it reached her hidden torso. 

You removed the ribbon from her hair and began combing it with your fingers, mindful of the small knots that had formed. After that, you did a simple French braid, then secured it with her pink ribbon. 

It fell to the middle of her back and you decided to add some flowers from a nearby apple tree. You weaved the delicate buds into her hair and hummed while you worked. With every passing second, the child relaxed more, and by the time you finished, she was practically laying in your arms. 

The sun had set not long ago and the moon had taken its rightful place in the sky, bathing everything it touched in its silver light. The girl in your arms turned around and glanced up at you. 

“Do you have kids?” she asked point blank. 

“No,” you replied, with a soft shake of your head. “But I am the eldest of five siblings.” 

“I’m Diana. Would you like to become my mother?”

Her boldness caught you off guard and you stared at the child with wide eyes. You didn't know what to say; never in your life had a child (other than your siblings) propose such a ludicrous idea, and so shamelessly, too. 

“Ah! There you are, Miss Grey!” a squeaky voice said, allowing you a moment to recollect yourself. 

Diana turned towards the steps leading up to the opera house and you saw an older goblin heading your way. His face was stern, but kind, and his dark eyes were clouded with fear and anxiety. He was short, like most goblins, barely standing over four foot five. 

The man stopped in front of you and looked down his long, crooked nose, until his eyes bore into yours. He was dressed in an expensive suit, and the wine color of the fabric complimented his green skin. 

“What are you doing with my mistress?” he demanded, crossing his arms. 

Diana stood up and threw herself onto you, wrapping her four arms and eight legs around you. “She’s going to be my new mother!” she proudly announced. 

You peered over the girl’s shoulder and mouthed ‘help’ to him. Unlike you, the creature recovered from her declaration with relative ease. He must have been used to her absurd outbursts. 

“Perhaps we should discuss this matter with your father,” he said, catching the girl’s attention. 

She quickly let you go and began running up the steps. The goblin followed behind her, but stopped halfway and turned back towards you. 

“I apologize for her behavior, Miss.” 

He tipped his head in apology and disappeared in the house, leaving you alone, sitting on the cold cobblestone sidewalk. 

“There you are!” Lord Bromley shouted, pulling his daughter into his arms. He placed kisses upon kisses on her face, then pulled away to give her a quick once over. His eyes narrowed when he noticed the flowers in his daughter’s hair, and the much improved braid. 

Claude, their faithful, goblin butler stepped into Bromley’s line of sight, and the father carefully placed his daughter back onto the ground. She clung to one of his front legs and began talking about a mysterious woman. 

“She was so kind, Father!” she beamed, burying her face in the white and black hairs of his legs. “I want her to be my mother!” 

Bromley stilled upon his daughter’s words, he lowered himself so that he was eye level with her. She had a large smile, one that he hadn’t seen in a while. He was used to his child asking for things; books, clothes, jewelry, and one time, a pony, but this request was asking too much from the widower. 

Music began pouring from the theater, and Bromley counted his blessings. He held out his hand, which Diana took, and they made their way towards the balcony that he had rented. 

They took their seats and Diana leaned against the railing. Her eyes were locked on the the silver haired siren that played Cinderella, and Bromley leaned further into his seat. While he had been looking forward to the opera, he couldn’t for the life of him focus on it, even with the haunting voice of the siren. 

His mind was trapped in a vicious cycle; he could see his wife’s face hiding in the dark corners of the stage; he could hear her bell-like voice whispering adorations of love in his ear, and he could feel the ghost of her hand on his. She had been gone from this world for four years, and everyday he found himself missing her more and more. Time did not heal all wounds, and he was getting used to the hollow feeling in his chest. 

The opera lasted close to three hours, and when they left the building, the moon was at its highest peak in the ink stained sky. Diana was having a hard time staying awake, so Bromley carried her in his arms, holding her close. Her plaited hair absorbed the soft scent of the apple blossoms, and he removed one of them and pressed his fingers against the flower’s waxy petals. 

On the carriage ride home, he held his sleeping daughter, and looked out the window. The city was starting to disappear and the air became lighter, a sign that they were getting closer to the countryside. 

Claude cleared his throat, and Bromley spared the goblin a glance. “May I be bold, my lord?”

“There are no need for formalities, my friend. You may speak as freely as you wish.”

The goblin nodded, then met his master’s eyes. “Diana is getting older; she will need a woman to guide her throughout her adolescent years.” 

Bromley looked down at his daughter and sighed. There was truth in Claude’s words, yet the idea of remarrying seemed like such a foreign concept. Diana didn’t hold many memories of her mother, seeing how she was only four when his wife died of illness. But that didn’t stop Diana from using her imagination. There had been numerous times when Bromley had caught Diana wishing upon the evening star for her mother to be returned to them. 

Bromley looked out the window once more and sighed. “Perhaps you are right, Claude. Maybe it is time that I find a new wife.” 

It had been a month since helping the small drider, and your mind kept wandering to her bold question. You shook the thought from head and proceeded to walk back home. Work had been busy, seeing how the courting season would be starting in a matter of months.  

Even though you were out of work, your mind kept falling back to the dozen of gowns that you had to start, the few that you had to finish, and the half-dozen that needed alterations. 

And to make matters worse, the royal family had decided to increase the tax. You barely had enough for this month, and if it hadn’t have been for the rest of your dowry, you wouldn’t have been able to pay the bills. And without a dowry, your life as a spinster was sealed. No man wanted a woman if they did not come with money. It rarely happened, but most of the time, those marriages were forced upon the couple because the man had dishonored the woman; they could have been caught stealing a kiss, or someone could have walked in on them doing unspeakable acts. Either way, when that happened, it was common practice for a hurried marriage to take place.  

You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you had failed to notice the carriage parked in front of your house, or the curious eyes of your neighbors. Upon entering the house, you hung your shawl on the hook and proceeded to make your way further into the house.

The stairs creaked under your weight, and you stopped when you heard voices coming from the parlor. There was one voice that you could not place — it was raspy but kind. 

The door to the parlor opened, and one of your siblings poked their head out. They gave you a toothy grin. “Y/N’s home!” they yelled. 

You could hear your father call you into the room, and you gave your sibling a curious look. They closed their mouth and pretended to lock it. You pushed them back into the room and stilled when you saw your parents conversing with a drider and a goblin. The goblin seemed familiar, then that’s when you recognized him, he was the caretaker of Diana, the drider child you had helped. If that was the child’s caretaker, then that must have meant that the drider conversing with your parents, was the father of Diana. 

You glanced at your father and noticed that he had chosen to wear his fancier clothes. His pant leg hung over the nub that was left of his leg, and his skin was pale with infection. You wanted to lecture him for getting out of bed, but you couldn’t with guests over. 

Your mother stood from the couch and guided you towards the drider. “And this is our daughter, Y/N.”

You found yourself staring into four eyes that shone like black, polished pearls, the skin surrounding his eyes was navy in color, making it look like he was wearing a mask of some sort. The rest of his face was black, like the ink from a well, and his lips were stark white. The contrast was stunning. 

The drider stood up and held out one of his hands. You hesitated, then placed your hand on his. He lowered his head and pressed his bone white lips to the back of your hand. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms Y/N. I am Lord Bromley.”

The spot were his lips touched felt hot, almost uncomfortably so, and you slowly removed your hand from his. You gave him a low bow and lowered your head. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, my lord.” 

“Lord Bromley was telling us about his country estate!” your mother beamed, pulling you down beside her on the chaise. “And what was it that you do again, Lord Bromley?” 

“I own the mines,” he replied, not missing a beat.

Your mother gave you a look, one that said, ‘he could easily provide for you’. Your mother meant well, but there was a small matter that she seemed to have forgotten about: you had no dowry. 

Your family continued to converse with the young lord, and you listened intently.  He seemed nice, but you couldn’t help shake the feeling that he was up to something. After all, why would a man of his status be here, talking to your family as if he knew them? It didn’t make sense. Was he looking for a lover? A mistress to warm his bed? 

You were pulled from your thoughts by the lord. “May I speak to you privately, Ms Y/N?”

You glanced at your parents and they nodded. “Why don’t you bring him to the garden, dear?” you mother suggested. 

“Who shall chaperon?” you asked, noticing how neither one of parents gave an impression of getting up. 

“I will,” the goblin said, standing up and smoothing his dress shirt. 

You walked out of the parlor and guided them down the hall until you reached the door leading to the garden. The flowers were in full bloom, and the swing in the tree swayed slightly against the spring breeze. 

Lord Bromley held out one of his hands. “Shall we walk?”

You looped your arm through his and he began walking. His eight legs sunk softly into the earth, and the goblin followed behind you, giving you adequate privacy. 

The two of you continued to walk, only to stop at the looming tree. You sat down on the swing and gripped the splintering rope with one hand. Bromley stared down at you, and tried your best to avoid his burning gaze. It seemed the his daughter inherited his intense stare. 

“Ms Y/N,” he whispered, causing you to look up at him, “I want to thank you for what you did for my daughter.” 

You gripped the rope tighter and said nothing. 

“I know that this is unorthodox, but your parents have given me their blessing.”

Bromley bent his spider legs so that he was kneeling in front of you, and he took your left hand, the hand that wasn’t holding onto the rope. His hand felt warm against yours, and his other set of hands settled on the free space of swing beside you. 

“Ms Y/N, I am looking for a wife and mother for my daughter. Since helping Diana, you are all that she can talk about, and with you as her step-mother, my anxiety regarding her future lessens. I know that this isn't the most romantic of proposals, but if you accept, I can promise you a life filled with comfort. Not only that, but I would be more than happy to help provide for your family.” 

While his words lacked any and all romantic emotions, they were sincere, and by the way he talked about his daughter, you could tell that he genuinely wanted what was best for her. 

You glanced towards the goblin and relaxed when you noticed that he wasn’t paying attention. You removed your right hand from the rope and gently cupped the drider’s face. He seemed shock by your action, but he didn’t move away. 

“My lord, I am flattered, truly. But I am nothing more than a simple seamstress; I know nothing of being a proper lady, and therefore I have nothing to teach your daughter.” 

“I care not about your upbringing.” Bromley said. “My daughter has tutors regarding etiquette and the likes, but what she needs is a woman with a kind heart; somehow who can act as her confidant, her mentor, and mother. She needs someone like you to guide her in the cruel world.”

You didn’t know what to say, for what could you say after hearing that? Nothing. He seemed to have his mind made up, and he told you that he would provide for family, but you couldn’t help notice that he didn't say anything about love. 

You licked your lips and rubbed your thumb across his black cheek. “I couldn’t help but notice that you did not mention love, my lord. If we were to marry, would it be a loveless union?” 

Bromley lowered his face and nodded. “I am still mourning my first wife, Ms. Y/N. Right now, I cannot offer you my heart, but I can offer you my friendship, and I promise to always support and protect you. Is that enough for you?” 

There wasn’t anything to think about; without Lord Bromley’s support, you would not be able to provide for your family, and within months, your family would be destitute. It also wasn’t uncommon for marriages to be more transactional, than fueled by romance, but regardless, you always pictured yourself marrying for love and nothing else. Would you be able to live with a man that could not offer you their heart? Would you be willing to enter into a loveless marriage. Yes, you would, if it meant your family would be provided for,

You coaxed Bromley to look up, and when your eyes met, you leaned forward and kissed the white and black hair that hid his forehead. “I will marry you, Lord Bromley.” 

@kenmasunwashedass​

[running-with-kn1ves]

something about your writing always feels like a breath of fresh air<3 n e ways what if the darling in your satyr fic (on the slim chance that it might happen) is to hard headed to let anything happen between them and the deity oop like even if they are dying inside to be touched :3

These responses literalLY make me rabid thank you so much!! You dont understand how much that means to me! <3 I get so worried about my writing sometimes haha.

I think if Philon's darling was really that strong willed, it'd just make him more inclined to want to make them his; but, he'd let them win this round. (That is, if he doesn't completely force himself upon them first.) If darling still doesn't initiate anything, and Philon becomes too stubborn to start anything himself, he'll let them off the hook, for now. But that doesn't mean he's going to let them satisfy themselves. Eventually the wine will wear off, but when it's in effect, its unbearable. It would take some extreme self control for his darling to behave themselves, which he both commends and finds frustrating. He loves that they're still putting up a fight, but at the same time he still wants to see their dignity and self-restraint shatter.

He's most likely going to let his darling sit there in indescribable horny agony, while he releases himself. He'll make them watch, as punishment for not doing what their god has commanded. He won't take his eyes off them, making them sit and stare as he slowly pleasures himself. It makes him feel conflicted; he's tortured by the thought that it isn't his darling being the one to get him off, but he also cant help but bite his lip at seeing his sweet servant all worked up and embarrassed at watching him.

[friendly-neighborhood-hex-maniac]

[lady-exophiliac-musings]

Monsterfucker Mansion: Intro

Note: This will be a multi-chapter work. Requests are wide open. Ask for a monster, and ye shall receive a fucking from it. ;)

This intro contains no sex, just some small worldbuilding and exploration. This story will include impregnation, and probably a lot of it, by all sorts of different exophilia crushes.

There's an old, abandoned building you know of. It's a far trip for you, but the rumors surrounding it are the most enticing things you've ever heard:

Anyone who goes in comes back out changed. In the case of all the women you've heard of, they come back out -- pregnant.

And not with human offspring.

Nervousness and disbelief had kept you away for years, constantly hedging over the validity of the claims and debating over the possible consequences of going there, yourself.

Lots of "what if" scenarios filled your daydreams and nighttime ponderings.

What if the rumors were true? What if you went there and met a vampire? What if you met a demon? What if you met an entire group of satyr brothers? What if a werewolf pack happened to visit it at the same time you did?

What if they fucked you silly and you came back home pregnant with some monster's baby?

How would you care for it? Would you care for it? Would you just go back after the birth and hand it off to the father? Would you keep it? What kind of mother would you be to a little half-demon or half-vampire or half-lycan? Was that even how it worked -- or would the baby take after its father fully?

Several years passed as you argued with yourself over this, constantly checking any reports you could find of continued activity in the abandoned mansion. Dozens of "interviews" were conducted in that time featuring people who'd claimed to have gone in, and they all had one thing in common:

Ecstasy.

They'd loved cavorting in that mansion with the creatures they'd encountered. And while there was nothing saying that they weren't just the lucky ones, that maybe hundreds had gone in and never returned at all, the very real possibility of you finding yourself at the mercy of a who-knew-what for a night and then returning home carrying its offspring was beyond tantalizing to you.

Eventually, you broke. You ventured to the mansion, opting to borrow a coworker's motorcycle for the trip to hide it easier once you got there. After all, you had no idea how long you were going to end up staying and you didn't want your vehicle to attract attention.

No, you'd much rather remain as anonymous as possible until the very end.

Giddy, you drive for well over four hours before finding the path leading into the spooky woods where the mansion waited. And, you soon discover, the path is notably worn by vehicle tread despite being a dirt road.

A lot of people had come here before you.

Even more excited, now, it's a little hard to focus as you continue down the road. By now you don't even need directions or your GPS; the road is so well-used it's obvious where you need to go.

Before long, the mansion comes into view.

And it is a mansion. The few images of the exterior you'd managed to scrounge up don't do it justice.

It's a massive building, four stories in the center and three for the two wings. The road winds left and right, giving you incomplete glimpses of it for a while, but it isn't hard to estimate that there's around fourty sets of windows on the front, implying numerous rooms on every floor.

It's definitely been damaged over the years, some windows badly boarded up and others visibly shattered. An overhang held up by columns create a wide front porch, and one of the columns has splintered and been semi-shredded in the middle. A set of stone stairs lead up to that porch, and chunks have been broken off from it.

Your heart's already pounding as you break free of the wooded area and follow the path as it curves up to the front of the building, a non-working three-tier fountain featuring a mermaid on a shell taking up a place of honor in front of it.

Giddy, you slow to a stop and remove your helmet so you can take a better look. No lights shine from within -- but, then, you'd expect that any monsters that frequent this place would probably be able to see in the dark. They wouldn't need the light.

Excitement hums in your veins. Was it twisted of you to find what comes next all the more appealing because you expect it to be scary?

Taking deep breaths to control the shaking in your core, you leave your helmet and riding jacket on the bike, stuff the keys in your pocket, and proceed up to the door.

It's ajar, you notice, as if inviting you to venture within.

You take out your phone and switch the flashlight on to illuminate the interior before you step inside, getting a lay of the land. After all, if it turns out this place was full of asbestos and tetanus, well -- that would be bad.

You want to get fucked by monsters, not diseases.

The area within is surprisingly clean, given the outward appearance. It's dusty, but more at the edges than anywhere else -- like it's been traveled quite frequently, you note. And there's a definite lack of broken or abandoned furniture as well.

Only a few pieces remain, and they're all visibly intact. A small table in the entryway with an attached mirror; a vintage sofa in a room to your left; a small dining table with a set of six chairs around it; a tall cabinet, empty within but the glass doors intact and clean of dust.

Someone had to be tending to this place, you realize, which means it definitely is occupied.

Now even more excited, you creep inside, the nervous part of you driving you to keep quiet just in case. It's stupid, maybe; you're here to get railed by the creatures that might be living here, yet your voice and actions are suppressed, caution and a constant feeling like you're being stalked forcing you to try and be stealthy.

Not even the recognition that you were definitely not ever going to be stealthy enough to avoid getting caught by monsters can halt the impulse for you to step quietly and avoid anything remotely wobbly.

Plus, you think, you are using your phone as a flashlight. If anything else is in here, it probably already knows that you are, too.

...Yet, disappointingly, nothing shows itself, not even after you've started to get a feel for the mansion's layout. It's a surprisingly intuitive design, actually. You feel like you don't get lost despite the size of it, able to follow the hallways, anticipate turns, and connect the three individual staircases you find without difficulty.

It becomes a secondary form of fascination to you. You even catch yourself testing your guesswork by finding your way back to the front door with increasingly roundabout paths and feeling impressed when you successfully locate it.

Still no monsters pop out at you, but by now you don't mind so much; you're having fun just exploring. And, at last, you decide to expand your search to the second floor, ascending the stairs.

...Every single room up here is, unequivocally, a fucking room.

The first one you find, nudging open the ajar door, takes you by surprise. It's a bedroom with a four-poster canopy, red velvet blankets, and a fur rug on the floor. A fireplace is situated against one wall with a desk and a 5-prong candelabra at another.

Oh yes, and there were leather cords with soft shackles affixed to each of the bed's posters.

A little stunned at the discovery, you move on to another room.

This one had a single mattress on the floor with a trio of pillows at the head and torn, bloody sheets tossed over it. Strangely, there was also a mini fridge in the corner, which -- when you checked it out of sheer curiosity -- was actively running and was full of various kinds of alcohol -- and ice cream.

A third room was dressed up nicely in pastel pinks and lace, including a vanity of pure white with gold trim, a mirror with lipstick kisses on it, and a large wardrobe across from the king-size, comfy-looking bed.

The next was a mixture of black and dark violet, everything styled in a leather-and-chains goth aesthetic, the window covered in heavy black drapes.

It went on and on. One room didn't have a bed, but rather a pile of soft fur blankets and throw pillows in front of a fireplace. Another was pristine and perfect, everything in white, black or grey and cut in sharp angles. The next was in rich blues and greens, a string of pearls embedded in the walls up at ceiling-level, the room itself notably colder than the others. Yet another was more rugged and worn-down, the floor scuffed, the walls scratched, everything in shades of brown, red and orange -- earthy, beastly, rough.

Things definitely were living here, you conclude, and there were a lot of them -- with vastly different styles and personalities.

Now if only you could figure out where the fuck they were hiding.

[loousir]

Ok but,

☀️🌵Western Monsters🌵☀️

Not just centaurs or minotaurs, no no no. I'm talkin' farmhand tieflings, barn dog werewolfs, cowboy vampires, outlaw satyrs, sheriff nagas.

Am I the only one who wants this?

[moe-machine]

Azarel proved to be different from his father and found love. Today his eyes shines, just like his mother's had, when he looks at the satyr Asr! His desing belong to @hayloff

They look so handsome together!❤

[thetravelerwrites]

Shelter Forest: The Towns (Masterlist)

Ichabod (Male Demon/Fae: Het) Part 1, Part 2 (Lemon)

Arkag (Male Orc: MLM​) Part 1, Part 2, (Lemon), Part 3 (Lemon)

Eli (Male Jackalope Rabbitman: Het​) Part 1, Part 2 (Lemon)

Balkat (Male Orc; Het, Lime​)

The Purple Hoarder (Female Japanese Dragon; WLW)

The Swamp Singer (Male Frog Fae; Het​)

The Freeloader (Male Sheep Satyr; Het​)

Wrykas (Male Minotaur; Het, Lemon)

Geyarajan (Male Gandharva: Het​​) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (Lemon)

Karrghed (Male Orc; Het​​) Lemon

Thandur (Male Orc; Het) Part 1, Part 2 (Lemon), Part 3

Sheng (Male Yeren; Het​) Part 1, Part 2 (Lemon)

Alexei (Male Satyr; Het) Part 1, Part 2 (Lemon)

Sheb and Meetak (FTM Goblin-FTM Minotaur; MLM) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (Lemon), Part 4 (Unfinished)

Roji (Non-Binary Fae; Gender Neutral Reader)

Akjan (Male Orc; Het) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (Citrus), Part 4 (Lemon)

Ynghadin (Male Minotaur x Female Elf) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 (Unfinished)

Growing Pains (Centaur Dads; Non-Romantic)

Margaret and Rourke (Male Orc x Female Human) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (Lemon), Part 4 (Unfinished)

Kofi - Paypal - Patreon - GoFundMe