#female faun

[eldstunga]

Commission for AlphaSeries04 on twitter of their Tenuane, who was a marvel to draw. Thank you for letting me draw her for you!

[mxnsterbabe]

Male FaunFemale Reader

SFW

Wordcount: 1,671

Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You always see the strange faun playing flute outside your flower shop. Turns out, it’s been a show of love this whole time.

ou stood by the window display, carefully arranging a new bouquet. The delicate scent of lilies and roses filled the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the potted plants scattered throughout the shop.

 

Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a warm, golden glow over the vibrant flowers. Your fingers worked deftly, adjusting the petals and leaves to create the perfect arrangement. It was a peaceful routine, one you cherished in the midst of the bustling town.

The familiar notes of a flute floated through the open door. You smiled to yourself, recognising the melody. Every day, without fail, the strange faun would sit outside your shop, playing his flute. His music had become a part of your daily life, a soothing presence that brought charm to your little corner of the world.

You glanced outside and saw him there, as always. Cedar, the faun, sat on a low stone wall, his legs crossed and his eyes closed in concentration. His skin had a light tan, with a subtle shimmer that reminded you of sunlight filtering through the trees. His hair, a rich chestnut brown, fell in loose waves around his shoulders, adorned with small leaves and twigs.

You often found yourself pausing to listen to his music. There was something enchanting about the way he played, each note filled with emotion and a sense of longing that resonated deep within you. It was as if he was trying to communicate something through his melodies, something beyond words.

The doorbell chimed, signalling the arrival of a customer. You turned your attention back to the shop, greeting them with a warm smile. The elderly woman returned your greeting, her eyes bright.

As the customer stepped further inside, the door remained open, allowing the music to drift in more clearly. She paused, listening to the melody with a look of pleasant surprise. "What a beautiful sound," she remarked, turning to you with a smile. "Who is that playing outside?"

You returned her smile as you walked over to the counter. "That's Cedar. He's been playing outside the shop for weeks now. I don’t know much about him, though. We've never actually spoken."

The elderly woman raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Really? He seems so dedicated. The music adds such a lovely touch to your shop."

"Yes, it does," you agreed, feeling a warmth spread through you. "It’s become part of the shop’s charm. People always comment on it."

She nodded, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, it certainly makes for a unique experience. I can’t help but feel drawn to the music every time I pass by."

You turned your attention to the bouquet she had selected, carefully wrapping it in delicate tissue paper. "Is there a special occasion for this bouquet?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

The woman chuckled softly. "Just a little something to brighten up my home. Flowers always lift my spirits."

You smiled, tying a ribbon around the bouquet. "I couldn't agree more. There’s something magical about having fresh flowers around."

As you worked, the music continued to float in through the open door, its soft notes creating a peaceful ambiance. The woman watched you with interest, glancing occasionally towards the entrance. "Have you ever thought of asking him why he plays here?" she inquired, her tone gentle.

You hesitated, considering her question. "I’ve thought about it, but I guess I’ve been a bit shy. It feels like he’s in his own world when he’s playing, and I don’t want to interrupt."

She smiled kindly, her eyes filled with understanding. "You never know, he might appreciate the conversation."

You nodded, feeling a flicker of determination. "You’re right. Maybe I’ll find the courage to talk to him one day."

Finishing the bouquet, you handed it to the woman, who accepted it with a grateful smile. "Thank you, dear. The flowers are lovely."

"You're welcome," you replied, ringing up her purchase. "Enjoy!"

As she left, the door chimed softly, closing behind her. You turned towards the window, feeling a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Cedar was still there, his eyes now open and watching you with a gentle smile. When he saw you looking, he raised a hand and waved.

You felt your heart skip a beat. Waving back, you couldn’t help but smile at the simple, friendly gesture. 

The shop was quiet, giving you a moment to yourself. You wandered through the rows of flowers, your fingers brushing gently over the delicate petals. As you looked over the selection, you noticed Cedar often wore shades of yellow. You thought about the meanings behind the flowers, considering which one would be most fitting.

Your eyes landed on a beautiful yellow daffodil. Its bright, cheerful petals made you smile. You carefully picked a fresh daffodil, feeling a flutter of nervous excitement as you turned towards the door.

Stepping outside, you were greeted by the familiar, soothing notes of Cedar’s flute. He glanced up as you approached, his green eyes lighting up with warmth. Up close, he was even more striking. His hair, adorned with small leaves and daisies, framed his handsome face. The light tan of his skin seemed to shimmer, reflecting the golden sunlight. You felt a twinge of nervousness.

You held out the daffodil, your voice soft but steady. "I thought this might suit you."

Cedar’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he smiled, a bright, friendly grin that reached his eyes. He took the flower from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that sent a pleasant shiver up your spine. "Thank you," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "It’s beautiful."

He tucked the daffodil behind his ear, the yellow contrasting beautifully with his chestnut hair. The sight made your heart flutter. Cedar looked up at you, his expression playful. "You know, I’ve been out here for weeks, playing my heart out, and you’re only just saying hello."

You laughed, feeling some of your nervousness melt away. "I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit shy."

Cedar’s eyes twinkled with mischief. "Shy, huh? Well, I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me. I was starting to think I’d need to compose an entire symphony just to get your attention."

A laugh slipped from your lips, sudden and startling. "What do you mean?"

He tilted his head, giving you a curious look. "Do you not know? I’ve been trying to get your attention this whole time. Initiating a courtship ritual and everything!"

You blinked, genuinely confused. "Courtship ritual?"

Cedar grinned, his expression both amused and a bit sheepish. "Playing the flute like this is a way to express interest in someone. I’ve been playing outside your shop for weeks, hoping you’d notice and maybe ask me out."

Your eyes widened as you processed what he was saying. "So, you’ve been... serenading me?"

He nodded, a playful glint in his eyes. "Exactly. Is that not how it works for humans?"

You couldn’t help but laugh, the situation suddenly clear and incredibly charming. "No, not exactly. Most of us just try to strike up a conversation or maybe ask someone out for dinner."

Cedar’s eyes widened, rich skin turning a beautiful shade of pink. "Oh, well, that explains a lot."

You grinned, feeling a mix of embarrassment and delight. "I’m sorry, I had no idea. Now that I do... how about that date?"

Cedar’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. "I’d love that. How about tomorrow evening? We could meet here and go somewhere nice."

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. "That sounds perfect."

Cedar's smile softened as he took a small step closer. "I’m really looking forward to tomorrow," he said, his voice gentle and sincere.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. The world seemed to slow as his lips met yours, a sweet and tender kiss that sent a thrill through you. For a moment, you were too surprised to react, caught off guard by his forwardness. 

As the initial shock wore off, you found yourself melting into the kiss, feeling the genuine excitement behind it.

When Cedar pulled back, his expression was a mix of hope and concern. "I’m sorry if that was too forward," he murmured, his eyes earnest. "I just couldn’t help myself."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. "No, don’t apologise. I enjoyed it."

Emboldened by your words, you leaned in and kissed him again, this time more confidently. As your lips met, you felt a sense of rightness, as if this was where you were meant to be. You reached up, gently tucking the daffodil behind his ear before it could fall, your fingers brushing through his soft hair.

When you finally pulled away, you felt breathless. Exhilarated. "See you tomorrow," you whispered, your voice filled with anticipation and excitement.

Cedar’s eyes sparkled with joy as he nodded. "I can’t wait."

With one last smile, you turned and headed back inside the shop, your heart racing with a mix of emotions. As you stepped through the door, the familiar notes of Cedar’s flute began to play again, filling the air with a tender tune. This time, knowing what it meant, the music felt even more special.

You moved back to the counter, a smile tugging at your lips as you resumed your work. The sweet melodies of Cedar’s flute wrapped around you like a warm embrace, filling you with a sense of anticipation. You smiled to yourself, knowing that Cedar's music was for you.

The flower shop felt even more alive with the music, and you found yourself humming along, the excitement of your upcoming date with Cedar making everything seem brighter and more vibrant. As the afternoon wore on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something truly magical had begun, all thanks to the enchanting faun who had serenaded his way into your heart.

[honowyn-art]

A stuck faun

[shinigami-striker]

Who Are You in [Rumble]? | Monday, 01.29.24

Check the calendar down below and ask yourself this: "Which character are you?" 💥

[mothrianna]

Of the Forest

[fem!oc x male!faun]

(This is meant to kick off a series of terato based writings that feature my redguard oc, Nemona, coming across several of the creatures and entities that can be found throughout the expanse of Elder Scroll's Tamriel.)

Summary:

She'd always wanted to visit the rolling meadows and lush forests of High Isle even as a young girl. Now as a woman, she finally gets the chance to see it, and the entire world and all of its natural splendor as she furthers her mother's research. But nothing that her parents taught her prepared her for the things she would find out in Tamriel's wilderness. (In which a faun manages to come across a lone human woman in his native forest and allows his curiosity to get the best of him.)

(somno, oral, terato, unprotected, smut)

Against her better sense, she elected to ignore intuition. 

She'd known the feeling for what it was, a suspicious inclination that she was being watched. Her sense told her that she'd been alone. That hardly anyone walks so far out into the forest save for the lone hunter, and even then most of the locals that called this rural swathe of the country home avoided the untamed wilds. They felt that it was best left to the spirits and animals that held dominion over it. She'd been an oddity. A strange tourist hoping to poke her nose into places not suited for any human, let alone her. In the eyes of those few who had enough inclination to ask her about her journey watched her with knowing, yet sympathetic eyes.

Like they'd known what the forest had in store for her. 

She'd felt the eyes before she could give words to the feeling itself. Felt some extra sense responding to every shift in the nearby underbrush. Or a silence that seemed to stretch on for too long, as if even the birds held their breath. She wrote it off as simple nerves at first. She was far from home for the first time in her life, hoping to further her mother's research into magical ecological survey. She had a single minded goal and she couldn't let paranoia so easily chase her away from it. Not when she'd come so far. 

She'd always been one to listen to gut instinct, stubborn in all endeavors unless her intuition guided her otherwise. This marked the first time she didn't listen, opting to follow her mind rather than the nameless feeling within her that yelled for her to pay attention and go. She threw herself into her work instead, running her series of tests on her sought after nirnroot that has acted as a magical conduit and sponge throughout the duration of its life. She hoped to discern what sort of specific magical properties it's native ecosystem might have imbued it with. Progress went soundly enough, and time flew by since finding the elusive plant. Before she knew it, evening fell. 

She enjoyed the mild air of the bridging gap between summer and autumn, cool and comfortable the moment the sun dipped below the horizon. Of course, she'd find herself drifting off as she waits for the alchemical test results, her body tired from the long day of hiking along streams and riverbeds in her search. She'd only laid her head down for a quick rest of the eyes, prone and curled about herself on the woven blanket she set out as a perfect work area just before her tent. The glade she took camp in had been serene and peaceful enough that sleep found her easily.  

She'd been gifted with a sweet dream. Something warm and unusual for her, granted that she'd always been one for long, dreamless bouts of sleep. She'd always been a heavy sleeper, something her mother worried over her for when she decided to set out on her own. She feared for her only girl, who sought to travel countryside and wildernesses far removed from civilization where any manner of strange beast could happen upon her in the night. But Nemona worried little over it, opting to never let fear bar her from freedom. 

But this time, she dreamt. 

A strange dream, where butterfly touches kissed her bare arms and left goosebumps in their wake. Where the hot puff of breath painted her shoulders in warmth and tickled her neck. A slick hot organ of a tongue gingerly licked at the joining of her neck and collarbone, and she didn't find it a disgusting feeling in the slightest. Surprisingly, it was pleasant enough that it left her insides curling in on themselves like a flower refusing to bloom. Is that what it was like to be licked? To be kissed? 

Hungry tastes of her flesh. She often wore low, breathable cuts in her dresses because she moved about too much for anything more restrictive. It left her bosom more exposed, her chest and collar bare to the elements and open to the hot and hungry laves against her flesh. Something in between her hips responds in force to it, her chest nearly following the sensation with each pass. 

But the mouth traveled lower, ghosting over her clothed breasts. Pressure followed, as if a gentle kiss was being planted just over the space of her nipple. The hands find their way there next, deft fingers lightly brushing over the stiff fabric that separated her from the world. She wore little in the way of wrappings, the garment stiff enough to hold her shape and keep the finer details from the outside world. But here, she wished it was thinner. Wished she could feel just more under those fingers. 

The fingers travel elsewhere, up and down the length of her arms as of the feel of her bare skin is a novelty on its own. Over her hips and thighs. Under the hem of her dress, struggling to find purchase under her layering. But they manage, finding her bare thighs and marveling at the heat between them. 

With her dress pulled back, the night air swaddled her in its coolness, but there was still warmth between her thighs, the heat of a breath at the space between her hips as she felt the certainty of a nose pressed to closely to her flesh that she was certain she was being scented. She almost has the wherewithal to feel shame, but the needling want rooted just behind her hips distracted her from it. She was pushing into the touch instead, hips searching for just more pressure. Relief. 

And she got it, if only incrementally. The tongue lapped at her clothed sex, hot and wet even through the thin cotton of her undergarments and teasing at her flesh. Once. Twice. Searching for her taste with a persistence that brings them back each time with renewed gusto that eventually prompted for the death of restraint. The thin strip of her underclothes are peeled to the side and she was gifted with such a firm, heated lick that it left her squirming. 

Again and again, licking deeply between the lips of her flower as if she'd been coated in nectar. Wanting and hot. Fiercely enough that it pulled a whine from her. Only then did the tempo falter, as if her voice startled her lover. But she needed more. She'd never had something so sweet before, untouched as she was. 

She reached down, her hips searching for him again. Her fingers found their home upon his mop of hair, threading through… 

A furry texture. Short hair, but soft. Her hands go further and find something hard sprouting just from atop the head, like bone. Like horns. Splitting and curling like fine branchwork. 

Like antlers on a stag. 

Her eyes opened, some sinking feeling finally snatching her from her sleep addled daze and prompting her to look. Look she did, craning her neck to find the very real mass just between her legs, frozen like a statue. Like ice, watching her with the same sort of startled stupor as she did him. 

Him. He. A person, but not. 

No, this was neither man nor mer between her legs. Nothing she'd known or even heard of from her parents. Never in their tales of travel across the whole of Tamriel had they ever mentioned a race of man crossed with deer. 

From his head stood a proud, branching set of antlers, beautiful and horrible at once with the way they end in delicate points she knew could gore with enough force behind them. His ears stood still, long and cervine in nature.  He was dark furred, but the color she could not see through the dim, moonlit darkness. But she saw a little of his eyes, wide and dare she'd say- spooked by her sudden wakefulness. As if he'd never intended to wake her. As if he'd been trying for gentleness as he enjoyed her body in her sleep. 

She was without reaction for long, arcing moments. If he wished to meet her with aggression, she'd be hopeless either way with the way she seemed to lock up like startled prey. She finally kicked herself, pushing herself up abruptly onto her hands and he reacted as if burned, moving away from her and leaving a yawning, cold and gaping berth between them. 

He was horrible yet beautiful at once. Unnatural to her eyes, but of nature. His long, cervid face held a grace to it despite being trapped between man and stag. And she couldn't say he bore the gaze of a beast, with the way his eyes seemed to swim with fear. He knelt crouched just away from her, body tensed like a coil as if he prepared to bolt. His body bore the physique of a slender and lean male, almost mer-like in height and grace. His musculature bore an elegance, finely woven and tempered. Strong, hooved legs and long, slim arms. Clawed hands and a slender middle.

[mysterious-secret-garden]

Alexander Rothaug - Female faun by the water.

[onipuff]

Momma Bella hard at work 💪 In stream sketch for Silverfox442 💖

Posted using PostyBirb

[faunabel]

nobody asked but i think ukraine is so cute i wanna analyze her character more i think she's lovely ♡ i have a bunch of notes on her in my canon ref sheet but i should do more!

[honowyn-art]

Six characters I love!

Bianca - The Rescuers Alex - Totally Spies Elora - Spyro 2 Minerva - Animaniacs Sawyer - Cat's don't dance Mehitabel - Shinbone Alley

[monstersohmy]

Cryptids and Human Sexuality: A Study By Dr. Nina Ferris

Chapter Two: The Faun

Pairing: M!Faun x F!Human

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Word count: 3600

Warnings: p in v, oral (f! recieving), edging

At the location. Will be offline for a few days. You know what to do if you don’t hear from me. 

Nina fired off the email to some trusted colleagues before hopping in the tiny cab that sped along to the next location: a valley village at the end of a bumpy road that threaded through rolling foothills. 

On approach, much of it could be seen from the window. Beyond quaint, it was made up of modest homes that eventually clustered into the town center, looking very much like something from a game. Nina chuckled at the idea of someone saying It’s dangerous to go alone! Take this! before she hiked toward the target. 

Nina acquired a paper map; one that could not be bought in a shop. This one had to be found in possession of an old woman who’d drawn it expertly by hand with a clear path to the research goal: a creature midway up the mountain peeking above the tree line near the forest’s center. The location was certain but the nature of the cryptid was not. Some stories described a leafy green entity while others described something more . . . swampy and fang-y. The cryptids from the beach were taloned and far from soft, but had been a relatively safe experience compared to the stories. Surely, this would be similar.

This entire expedition gave Nina pause and not only from the foggy info on the cryptid. There had been something like a scavenger hunt just to find the old woman who’d demanded the solution to a riddle of all things!

“Are you serious?” Nina asked.

“Of course not, girl. Give me fifty, plus another twenty for interrupting the cooking. Stew won’t stir itself,” the old woman laughed, raspy and chill. “And no Venmo. Cash.”

Nina handed over seventy in cash and took the map. The old woman held on a bit longer than necessary, eyes darting between it and the curious researcher’s face before relenting. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Nina said, examining the map as she turned to leave. Beautiful work reminiscent of the antique maps; the only thing missing was Here There Be Dragons written in dramatic script. This must go in the book! She took out the spiral notebook and jotted a reminder to discuss permissions and credit the woman for her work. Perhaps an interview? Maybe try to trick the stew recipe out of her? After all, it smelled divine. Those last words were deeply underlined. 

“Storm’s coming. Might want to rethink it if you want to make it back here,” the old woman called. 

Not a single cloud marred the bright blue sky. What the fuck was this woman on about?

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” Nina replied. However, the aroma coming from the little house was enticing. “How much for a thermos of stew to go?”

*

All roads stopped at the village, so the expedition continued on foot out of the valley and over the foothills that became rockier as the journey climbed higher. Exhausted and panting, Nina finally reached the crest to look upon her destination: a forest huddling tightly at the edge of a pale green plain scarred by a glossy, slate colored stream. 

She sat for a rest and a few bites of the stew, still hot in the thermos, doing a few rough sketches of the location. It was still a good walk to the treeline, but it would be reached before sunset. However, the old woman had been right: there was a storm stirring.

Dark gray crept forward and would overtake the forest sometime in the night. Time was of the essence: it was possible to make it a good way beyond the trees and pop up the tent just before the storm attacked if she moved fast. 

Between the physical exhaustion and upcoming lack of sleep due to the storm, Nina would be useless tomorrow and would have to focus on sketches and basic descriptions of the area. It would add at least a day to the expedition.

*

Moss blanketed everything: ground, rocks, trees, and roots. The trees themselves grew so thickly that the canopy filtered out the sunlight and reduced the blue sky to flecks between the leaves. They grew more gnarled as Nina picked her way through, searching for a place flat enough to set up the tent. The storm was nigh; a slight breeze rustled leaves as the air cooled. Critters were already scampering to shelter. 

Finally, Nina found a spot with just enough room for the tent. It was on the rockier side, but there would be no sleep tonight anyway. With a resigned sigh, she fished out the tent strapped to the bottom of her pack, popping it up just in time for the light mist that was the storm’s harbinger to begin drifting down. Thunder rolled in the distance. This was going to be a difficult night. 

“That is uncivilized.” 

The voice had a lilting accent dusted with mild disgust and was not remotely like the stories described. Nina turned to see the suspicious face, lean yet well toned bare arms and torso of a man above the legs and hooves of a goat. Sandy hair curled over his forehead and around the short horns that curved back from above his ears. 

A faun.  

A faun was not on the agenda for this research trip. Perhaps she should return, though? There were so many varied depictions of fauns and this one managed to look like none of them and all of them at the same time. Stunning.

“What exactly is uncivilized?” Nina’s tone came off more annoyed than intended. Although, she was very annoyed. After all, she’d put in a lot of effort to find a suitable spot to set up camp; one that disturbed as little of the forest as possible. 

He rolled his eyes, head dipping forward to indicate the tent.

“It’ll get me through the night. I’ll be fine.”

He nodded curtly and deftly trotted away between the mossy trees.

*

The storm was still a bit away, but the wind was already howling and shaking the tent. Thunder rolled loud and steady in the distance. Nina sat with legs drawn up, head against her knees, slightly rocking. This was going to be a long and frightening night. 

A hand batted against the tent, making her yelp in alarm. 

“This storm is going to be violent.” That lilting accent called. “You’ll not be safe out here.”

“What do you suggest I do, then?” Nina shouted to be heard over the ripping wind and trying to conceal the fear. 

A long pause. There was just enough moonlight streaming through the tent that she could see the faun’s head dropping, considering. 

“Come to my home. It’s not far.”

Nina didn’t have to be told twice. She scrambled out of the tent and threw on the pack. 

“We must move quickly,” he said, bounding off, weaving his way through the dense, slippery roots that breached the ground. She struggled to keep up, weighed down by the pack and trying to be mindful of the terrain. Rain began falling, quickly becoming a blinding wall. A flickering yellow light lay ahead and she carefully moved toward it, fearful of tripping and getting injured. Being waterlogged was preferable to being broken. 

Suddenly, Nina’s pack was torn away and she was lifted from the ground, caught between two arms with wet skin against her cheek. In a few moments, the air was warm and dry and smelled of a fireplace and fresh bread. 

Those arms carefully deposited her on a knotted rug near the fire. The cottage muffled the raging sounds of the storm and sturdy walls blocked the piercing wind. Sleep came easily as that elegant voice drifted down.

“Uncivilized.”

*

Nina woke up on her back in front of the fireplace. The left side of her body was hot and dry, the other still soggy and chilled.

“I brought your pack inside. I do hope anything important was stowed in the middle. Everything else is soaked, I’m afraid.”

She sat up, blinking and taking in the cozy cottage. White washed walls, slate floor. A heavy wood table sat before a rustic log frame sofa covered in quilts and afghans. And books. Books stacked everywhere with unknown letters adorning the spines and covers. Instinctively, Nina reached for the nearest tome.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything. Not while you’re dripping rainwater,” the faun sternly ordered. He pointed to a neatly folded towel and robe aside the hearth. “Towel off, change, and leave your clothes to dry by the fire. I’ll prepare a plate and tea. I will, of course, be turned away for your privacy.”

As directed, Nina shed her wet jeans, flannel, and t-shirt and laid them out before toweling off and shrugging into the warm robe.

“Alright,” she called. “I’m decent.”

The faun’s hooves clicked on the slate floor while he carried a tray stocked with cheese, crusty bread, a squat teapot, and two mugs. He poured and nodded, indicating it was time to drink.

”Thank you,” She sipped, relishing the warmth and liking the woodsy flavor tinted with something floral and some other warm spice. “This . . . I’m not a tea person but . . . this is . . . what kind of tea is this?”

“It’s made from what I gather. Never quite the same brew.”

“It’s– I like it,” Nina said, briefly wanting to ask about specifics and deciding against it. In this unplanned part of the chapter, she would simply say tea. Not for practical purposes. It just felt right to keep it close. Keep it hers. 

“Who are you and what are you doing out here?” he asked, voice laced with suspicion. “I saw you taking notes.”

“I’m Dr. Nina Ferris and I’m studying . . .,” she went on to describe the work, face heating. Nina choked. This was only her second expedition for the study and the cryptids at that beach hadn’t asked her reasons for being there. She hadn’t considered that any of the subjects would ask. Suddenly, she felt very guilty about using the term subjects and felt embarrassed to talk about her work. 

“None of the stories from this area mentioned a faun,” she said at the end, removing her glasses and wiping them clean as she’d done so many times while trying to stall. Also trying to avoid his gaze. 

“If you’re here for the creature in the caves, please don’t continue,” he said lowly. “No one comes back.”

“That’s what the stories say.” Nina wavered. She should have saved this expedition for last, as it was the scariest. 

“Humans,” the faun huffed, shaking his head in resigned disappointment. 

An entirely too close thunderclap pierced Nina’s ears, forcing a wince. Then another which brought her knees up. Nina regularly and recklessly forged her way through any obstacle but thunder always made her a scared little girl who wanted to hide in the cabinet under the sink. 

“It’s alright. It’s just thunder,” he said softly. 

The faun shifted across the sofa so he could take this strange human woman who seemed fearless about pursuing the creature but was terrorized by thunder, under his arm and possibly help her feel safe. 

When humans traversed the woods, he usually kept to the shadows and left them to their own devices even when they wandered too far and too deep. However, this Nina woman had been so careful while picking her way through the trees and bushes and flowers, trying not to disturb them, gently running fingers along the moss that covered everything. While running from the storm, her steps were deliberate and she skirted around a thicket of larkspur even though it took her briefly off the path. She should have some warmth and comfort.

Nina lay her head on his shoulder and sighed at the feel of the enveloping arm and the faun’s bare chest against her cheek. 

“What’s your name?” she whispered, cringing at another thunderclap. 

“Silas.”

*

Silas held Nina through every furious thunder strike. Eventually, her wincing and shivering at the sounds became gasps, then nothing at all until she drifted off.

The faun considered this strange woman peacefully sleeping against his chest. She was unlike any human he’d encountered. Kind and considerate where the others blundered about, not caring about the destruction left behind. A curious nature. She’d seemed so excited about the books piled about. Looking down, he took in the soft curve of her cheek and a lock of wavy blue hair that had fallen across her forehead. 

This Dr. Nina Ferris was rather pretty and he wanted her.

She stirred and absently brushed her lips against his chest, sending a sharp wave rolling between his legs. Maybe . . .?

Nina woke with a start, realizing what she’d done. 

“I’m sorry!” she blurted, pulling away. “I didn’t mean– not that you’re not– you certainly are–”

“It’s alright,” he interrupted. His eyes went askance, voice shy. “Actually, I wondered, would you like to . . . conduct your research in a . . . closer. . .  way?” 

Silas seemed to lead a lovely life of brewing his teas and studying his books. Putting him in hers would bring attention and draw other humans to gawk and trample the forest he tended, shattering his peace. She couldn’t do that. He was beautiful and kind; she had to see that he stayed that way. 

“Closer? Yes.” Nina rose, went to the pack leaning against the door, and detached the dry bag clipped to it. From within, she took out the notebook containing her handwritten observations of this expedition, ripped them out, and threw them in the fire. “Not for research, though.”

“Why?” he asked, bewhildered. 

“Because I don’t want you to be disturbed by other nosy humans.” It was Nina’s turn to look away unsurely. “I want to keep you a secret.”

He was immediately hard, cock rising long and thick from the hair covering his goat-like legs. In a flurry, Nina shed the robe and rushed to straddle him, lips diving into his. Silas tasted like warm spiced tea. He grasped her hair, guiding her to arch back and place her breasts front and center for his mouth to explore. 

Her body was soft and supple in his hands; the body of a woman who enjoyed the delights of life. Silas brushed his lips across her nipple with the slightest flick of his tongue, smiling at the whine he’d drawn from her and the twitch of his cock at the sound. 

Feeling bold, he turned attention to her other nipple and nipped with his teeth. The moan was high pitched and breathy. 

“I’ve never been with a human,” he panted, lips still sucking at her breast. Then, almost imperceptibly, “like you.”

“I’ve never been with a faun,” Nina responded with a smile, crashing back into his mouth in a sloppy, desperate kiss. Hungrily, she ground against him, brushing her folds along his length until she was pulsing with desire and his head had fallen back, hands gripping the globes of her ass. 

“Are you sure?” she quietly asked.

Silas nodded. 

She grasped what he had for her and dragged the tip through the slick that had been gathering since seeing those stacks of books. Lord, she loved a literary person. 

He let out the sweetest gasp at the touch then she lowered down, inch by delicious inch, as his hands slid up to clutch her shoulders and pull her tight against him. She moved so slowly, partly to have time to adjust to stretching around his cock and partly to savor the vision of Silas’ head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open while he struggled to resist throwing her to the floor in front of the fire and relentlessly ram into her. 

Finally he bottomed out with a mutual gasp. Nina’s face buried in his neck while adjusting to the feeling of his cock along her walls and the goat legs between her thighs. Gingerly, she pushed up nearly to the head and sank back down with a whine. Silas grasped her by the hair, yanking her mouth to his. Nina began bouncing, arching away to be caught by his hands digging into her sides while he nipped at her beasts, hips rutting up to meet hers. 

He slid one hand up to rest between her shoulders while the other drifted down to her sensitive bud, thumb lightly circling. Nina moaned ragged and long, bouncing harder and faster yet he would not increase pressure and pace to meet hers. She shifted to try and each time he pulled his thumb back to continue the barest whisper of a touch until she was near tears from the need to be released. 

“Please,” she whined. “Silas, please. I want–”

He pressed hard, immediately sending sharp, crackling pleasure through her body accompanied by wild cries that rivaled the raging storm. Silas pulled her flush against his chest as her climax began to recede. Just before it cleared, his embrace became immobilizing as he rutted up to chase his own release, fingers digging into her hip and shoulder as he discovered it with a deep groan into her cheek.

When his hold loosened, Nina fully collapsed to rest her head on his shoulder while he absently stroked her back. She swiftly fell asleep. 

*

In the morning, Nina woke to the sensation of being lifted and moved. Instinctively, her arms and legs wrapped around Silas while his hands supportively curled under her thighs, friction feathering the pearl between them, while he carried her to the small bedroom dominated by a large, sturdy bed. With a deep sigh and lazy <grind>, she nipped at his bare shoulder, grinning at <the feel of> his cock rising again.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” he teased. 

“Not really. I just see no point in denying one’s wants.”

Silas pried her limbs away to throw her on the featherbed and, in contrast to the erudite faun who collected books and made tea, shoved her legs apart, leering at her fluttering hole. He ran a finger down along her soft thigh to <the apex> where it barely brushed the <bundle of nerves> and continued further, tracing patterns on the curve of her belly, nimble fingers pebbling nipples. All the while, Nina whimpered and writhed, breathing one word: please

He’d indulge her desire, but not yet. This human woman was very receptive and, unlike others who’d blundered through the wood, hadn’t <hemmed and hawed>, wringing hands and talking in circles to rationalize wanting to fuck a cryptid. Eventually, many gave in to their desire for a single tumble, but felt guilty after. An uncivilized response.

Dr. Nina Ferris was decisive, unashamed, and enthusiastic. Such an enjoyable departure! He paid close attention to every response. Every quiver and high-pitched breath. Every instance of fingernails marking his skin. Perhaps he would document her in his journals. The thought curved his lips in a smile and light chuckle against her breast. 

“What’s funny?” Nina asked, anxiety blooming in her eyes. 

“We’re not so different,” he murmured. “I saw your interest in my books. I wrote some of them, you know.”

She gasped and grinded against his cock. All he had to do now was say he was also an artist and she’d explode immediately. 

He worked down along her abdomen, delivering little nips along the way just hard enough to leave marks that would linger for a few days until his lips met her apex and <brushed> against the sensitive bud. Featherlight, his tongue flicked at it, eliciting a shudder that became a steady quake as he continued with relentlessly slow kitten licks holding her just at the precipice. 

“Silas . . . please,” she groaned through clenched teeth. “Let . . . me–”

Abruptly he pulled away and stood, looking down with a devious grin and glinting eyes.

“Are you serious? Wha– what are you doing?”

“Giving you a reason to return,” he chuckled.

Seething, Nina got up and went about dressing and gathering her things for the upcoming trek. The day was clear and crisp. So long as the rain soaked trails were minded, she would make it to the caves by early afternoon. The faun tucked a packet of bread and cheese in the pack then walked her out. 

“Nina, please.” Silas grabbed her hand and squeezed with surprising and uncomfortable strength, tugging her away from the path leading to the caves near the mountaintop. “Please don’t go up there.”

She gazed at the beautiful face beneath the horns and floppy curls glinting in the sunbeams that cut through the trees. A face that held a true visage of concern and worry. He’d lived in this wood for who knows how long and knew its secrets. Perhaps, his warning should be heeded. 

“Alright. I won’t,” she acquiesced. “For now. Depending on how the rest of the research goes, I may need to come back to–”

Silas shut her up with a kiss. 

“Well, then, Dr. Nina Ferris. Next time you come through I must do everything in my power to prevent you from leaving.”

*

Back at the village, Nina went about arranging transport back to civilization. Before the car left, she returned to the old woman who’d sold her the map to ask questions about the local legends. Ever the hustler, she demanded a fee for her time and interrupted cooking. At least this time, Nina was invited in and given a cup of tea while the interview was conducted.

“I see you met Silas,” the old woman noted at its conclusion.

“What? How did you–”

“You’re glowing.” She winked. “Real slut, that one.”

[shinigami-striker]

Crash & Spyro Rumble!!! | Thursday, 11.16.2023

Season 3 of Crash Team Rumble starts on December 7, featuring Spyro & Elora!

[leneeen]

faun and fairy

[detect-undead]

Faun ♥️

[onipuff]

Update on an older design of mine for Silverfox442 🦌🦊💚💙

Posted using PostyBirb

[hubmuses]

Really want to make a new OC.

[awfulrabbit]

Another Art Fight 2023 attack! This time on BunnyBeam!

Come Fight me on Art Fight!

Patreon — Kofi — Commission Info