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nine-of-words · 1 year ago

Text

(Harpy + XVIII The Moon)

Trans M Harpy x M Reader

Wordcount: 2907

Content Warnings: Magical Disguise, Brief Description of Death, Public Sex, Cloacal Sex (Reader Tops)

I’m doing a little self-inflicted challenge using the monstertober prompt here. But also with tarot card pulls for additional RNG!

I’m not going to call this monstertober though, because there’s no way in hell I’m finishing all of these in October- knowing me, they're probably going to stretch out a few months. So, not sure what to call it: Autumnal monster one-shots? The name ultimately doesn’t matter.

The moon is full overhead, casting a dull, pale glow over everything.

The tall cedars and pines of the forest loom over you as far as your vision can go in the darkness, no familiar safety of guard towers anywhere in sight.

The sound of baying hounds has finally grown so distant that you feel like you can rest momentarily.

At least you and your fellow guard Kira managed to escape from the conflict relatively unharmed.

You still can't risk a fire, lest you be spotted by any pursuing bandits.

Kira sits perched on a nearby tall stone with the map, sitting in that peculiar way he favors; heel of his boots tucked to his ass. He doesn't seem to be looking at the map though, instead scanning the tree line. You’ve removed your armor, working to bandage the various scrapes you received from the scuffle with bandits on the toll road and the following sudden retreat through the undergrowth.

The adrenaline has finally begun to wear off, leaving you to sit and contemplate your failure.

The caravan you were escorting was attacked, that much is clear. But an ambush on the caravan? …Why?

There wasn’t anything particularly valuable in the caravan, past the everyday possessions of a nobleman. This toll road isn't even known for a high amount of bandit activity- It's why your employer chose to use it.

You grimace, growing tired of trying to sort out the reasons. Instead, your attention is drawn to your partner.

He looks the same as he always does: A slight, handsome male numan, with angular features, silky black hair with a near violet sheen depending on the light, cold pale skin and deeply curious, sharp grey eyes.

You’ve been in what could be called a romantic entanglement since shortly after he was hired on by your employer. You were tasked with training him as the senior guard on staff, though he didn’t need much training at all. Being paired together for guard shifts with someone you found blisteringly attractive only made the inevitable outcome happen sooner. While you’ve enjoyed the trysts, you’ve tried to keep them from interfering with doing your job.

He’s usually cool and collected under the pressure, even when things have gone wrong. But there’s some silent panic happening here, something shifty and out of character with what you’ve come to know.

But something isn't sitting right. Something… is off with him. Different.

You squint at him, getting to your feet with a grunt.

"...You're hiding something. I can tell."

"No, I'm not." He blatantly denies, dismissive and matter of fact. But you can hear it in his voice, and see it in the hunched way he’s sitting, trying to make himself look smaller. That, and he's been avoiding looking you in the eye since this whole doomed journey began.

You approach the rock he’s perched on, worried he’s concealing an injury from you; he shrinks back, so subtly you almost don’t notice it.

"Hey-" You grasp his face between your hands for emphasis, turning his gaze on you. Perhaps a bit too intimate for the moment, but it's been far too long, nearly a week since you could feel his skin under your fingers, so you indulge yourself. It's been nearly impossible to wedge in any alone time on the road to do so."Talk to me."

You're considering pressing your lips to his for the much needed comfort, when you stop short. The movement causes the hood of his cloak to slide back, just enough to reveal tiny blue-black feathers that have sprouted on the bridge between his eyes, and at the edges of his cheeks.

"...Feathers…?"

"L-Let go-" He brushes you off, turning his face away and drawing his hood back up. "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the time? You make everything ten times harder-"

"Don't change the subject!" You sputter, stepping back but not dropping it. "Feathers! What's happened to your fa-"

In backing away, you’ve given yourself room to see him clearly as a whole, and things seem to change right in front of your eyes.

Wide, shiny black wings hang down from his arms, nearly covering him, like a blanket draped from his shoulders.

Swathes of smaller feathers pepper his face, as well as chunkier feathers dispersed to form ear-like points, and a soft looking crest of plumage peeking out over his collar.

Ill fitting boots fall off and hit the ground with a hollow thunk. They're followed by the padded leggings more suited for less rounded, unfeathered thighs. He's left with just his long hooded tunic, looking almost comfortable.

The rock he’s sitting on certainly looks more like a perch now, between his wings and large scaled avian feet, each tipped with a glossy, blade-like talon.

“Huh.” You can only manage a surprised grunt, forgetting what you were even going to say- too busy taking in the new details of his appearance. Or at least- new to you.

“Glamour.” He laughs mirthlessly and pulls his hood all the way down in defeat. "Racist old fart only ever hired numen on."

"You're involved in this? But the others-" You conclude. Your fists clench, as does your jaw.

"The others aren't coming." He says, pointing a taloned finger towards the darkness of the woods. "And if they're smart, they ran instead of trying to fight. But that's on them."

"But… why?"

"Doesn't matter why, does it?" Kira sighs, shoulders falling as he seems to fully accept that he's been caught. "Someone’s why was big enough they paid a lot of gold for him to be dead. And so, now he's dead."

"I can't believe this-" You glare at him. The residual guilt from failing in your duties morphing into indignance of being lied to by someone you trusted. "You lied to me?"

Your hand instinctively reaches for the hilt of your sword hanging from your belt for some feeling of security, but you only feel empty space- you’ve left it back in its scabbard, where you were sitting on the rocks.

"I did. So, is this where you valiantly avenge your dead employer in the name of loyalty?” There’s the sound of feathers rustling over fabric and claw scraping against stone, just barely there.

You simply stand there, nostrils flaring and teeth bared, ready to scrap for your life at the hint of violent intent.

“…I don't want to have to hurt you, love, but I'm not dying tonight- and we both know I'm the faster draw."

You don't need to have a clear view to know his hand is already on the hilt of a concealed blade somewhere on his person as he speaks. You've worked and lived and done other things with him long enough now to know.

Everything else- you should've known. Even appearing as a numan, everything about his movement, his way of handling weapons, even his mannerisms at times- screamed criminal. Concealment. Trickery. Deceit.

But you're not one to judge someone on their past, especially not when they're looking for honest work.

"...My loyalty to my employer only persists if he's still alive to pay my wages." You shake your head, recalling from the blurry memory of the tumult the sight of the old man getting a bolt to his neck and toppling from the gilded carriage. "That’s the risk you take hiring mercenaries as your personal guard… He was a sour old bastard, anyway."

The tightly wound tension, thick enough to cut with a knife, evaporates with your acknowledgement.

"And here I thought you just enjoyed playing the hero." His voice is already lighter, back to his normal, jovial tone, devoid now of the cold edge of necessity.

"I enjoy a job well done! That doesn't make me some paragon of virtue!"

"That's exactly something a paragon of virtue would say." He quips, feather bristling as he laughs his decidedly caw-like laugh at his own joke. You wonder how you never noticed that about Kira’s voice before, or if the magic downplayed that too.

You simply groan in response.

"I'll tell you one thing, I'm never buying from that miserable old hag over by the lake again." He spits on the ground in front of him in scorn. "Damned glamour didn't even last half as long as she claimed it would."

You can't hold back the laughter. The absurdity of the situation is too much, and you finally crack.

“I thought you were taking this a bit too well…” Kira mutters to himself.

You slide a calloused palm down your face, silencing yourself.

“I take it then,” You feel so foolish, that despite the calamity you just experienced, the idea of him faking his interest in you is what is truly bothering you about the situation. “That all of this was an act?”

"No! ‘Seduce handsome guard’ was not on the agenda." You feel him risk reaching out for you, the first time since the facade dropped. The familiar feeling of his hand on your forearm is comforting, but the addition of a claw scraping lightly across your skin is surprising. …Though not entirely unwelcome. “That part sort of… fell into place all on its own.”

“Right.” You continue looking at him, trying to discern if this too is a lie.

“You don’t believe me. I don’t blame you.” Kira says, mimicking hurt. Or maybe it’s sincere…?

"Why lead me out here then, if you knew? Distraction?”

"I wasn't about to let you die pointlessly in a little caravan scuffle. So, I was just… making sure you got out of the woods okay."

"You could've let me know ahead of time." You grumble.

"Ah yes, because that would've gone over flawlessly!"

You let out a resigned huff. You don't like this- but there's not much you can do about it now.

"Maybe I can make it up to you?" He says, voice suddenly suggestive and almost melodic. "For playing along so nicely."

You know that tone very well. Your body stirs on its own in response, without regard to your higher faculties.

A little subterfuge and a few feathers aren’t enough to eradicate your care for him, it seems.

Before you can think to object, he's hiked the hem of his tunic up, showing off the soft slope of the upper portion of his raised and spread avian legs. His taloned fingers part the plumage of short feathers between his legs, showing you the pinkish hole underneath, his tail feathers spread out against the rock below.

That’s new.

And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious…

"Well?"

You peel your eyes away and glance around pointedly with raised brow, not having to say out loud that you're out in the middle of the woods right now- and while you’re no stranger to making do in the wilderness when the need strikes, you have recently fled from an ambush within the last few hours.

“I told you, no one’s coming. It’ll be fine.” The hand on your forearm migrates to claw at the front of your tunic, encouraging you closer with a smirk on his face. “...No one else, at least.”

You can't resist anymore, one hand moving to hold him around the waist.

“There you are,” Kira coos in approval at the weight of your touch on the bunched fabric at his waist, taking your face in his hands to kiss you on the lips, then press a few in a trail down your neck. “You’ll have to make this angle work for you, I’m afraid. I'm not in the mood to roll about in the dirt tonight."

He reclines slightly, bracing himself against the surface of the rock and balancing himself, making it look easy.

Wasting no time, you bring your other hand up and probe two of your fingers experimentally into the opening. It's soft and warm as usual, but it’s already fully slicked and the way its ribbed edges are pulling at your fingers, like it’s trying to drag them inside, is a foreign sensation. You thought two fingers might be too much to start with, but you’re starting to think your whole hand could easily be swallowed up whole at this point with how deeply they’re sinking in, lost to the ribbed interior.

Your mind tries to make sense of the newness- you know you’ve been acquainted with this part of him before, because there are some things even glamoury can’t change, but the experience of it being different and yet so familiar is making your head spin.

It was a bit suspect that he always seemed to be lubed before you got down to business, despite how unlikely the scenario. It’s partly your reasoning behind thinking he was out to seduce you, but now you’re realizing that he was just telling the truth about genuinely finding you attractive the whole time- at least if the slippery fluid coating your fingers now is any indication.

“Aaah,” His bird-like feet clench in the air at your sides, grasping at nothing. He winces as he watches down his torso, half-lidded eyes focused on your hand working inside him. “Nnh-”

You thought you liked the sounds you could draw out of him before, but now they’re downright enchanting.

It doesn’t take much exploring before you’re burning up with lust under your clothes, unable to hold back any longer.

You wrap your hand around his thin scaled ankle, making enough room for yourself between his legs. Then you close the distance until your boot tips are nearly flush to the face of the stone, hastily rustling yourself just barely free between your breeches and your tunic, already painfully worked up and ready to go.

After a bit of somewhat blind searching, you manage to press your cock inside, his cloaca relatively in the same location that it’d be if he were still in numan form. The sweet crush of his vent is even better wrapped around your dick than on your fingers, to little surprise. Downy feather edges tickle the damp surface of the sensitive, just barely exposed skin on your pelvis.

Once you’re sure you’ve gotten where you need to be, you grip the other side of his waist as well. Your instincts kick in and you’re out the gate, already thrusting into the heat like your life depends on it.

Even the slightly unconventional staging isn’t enough to keep you from your goal. You’re well enough acquainted with what your partner needs to only need some minor adjustments to quickly find a familiar, if a bit harried, rhythm.

“Fucking hell,” You emphatically hiss through clenched teeth, over the wet, slightly muffled sounds of wet flesh and rustling feathers. “Does that feel good.”

“Glad it’s good for something- Nngh-”

You continue to rut into him like a wild beast, grunting and chasing down the growing tightness in your loins.

You want to hit every part you can reach, touch every part of him there is to touch, hammer out a permanent space for yourself.

It may be a change from what kind of hole you’re used to fucking, but you couldn’t care less at this point. The difference is inconsequential.

It’s still him.

Kira’s legs wrap around you like a set of arms embracing you, crossing over your lower back, holding you closer as he grinds back against your thrusts. His oversized talons dig into your flesh through the fabric like human fingers demanding more. The harder and faster you thrust, the closer you get to having the skin on your lumbar rended to shreds through your tunic, but you're too enamored to care.

He goes to cover his mouth with his feathered arm as his body starts to shudder, but you intercept with your own, pinning his wrist to the rock at his side.

If you went through all this trouble tonight- and find out the lover you’ve been fucking this whole time is a bird- you’re at least going to get to hear him sing.

“Uungh-” Kira lets out an interrupted noise in surprised approval, mouth agape in a pleased rictus. His vocalizations hit their highest, quivering pitch just as his vent constricts around your cock in the hardest squeeze. “Aah-Aaaah-”

His spine bends in an elegant arc and his sharp talons dig into your knuckles as their hand grips into yours where you have him caught. As his strangle hold on you lets up, a new wave of slickness coats you, making it hard to keep yourself together.

You’re dead on your feet by the time you unload inside of him, running only on pleasure and leftover vestiges of adrenaline. You unwind, senses overloaded and your thinking thoroughly dulled. All you are sure of before you sleep is that you managed to satisfy; both him and yourself.

In the morning, you wake to sunlight filtering through the trees above, flat on your back on a relatively evenly-faced slab of rock.

"What am I going to do now?" You wonder aloud and grind one of your palms on your grimy face. "I'm out a job and a place to live…"

Even if you go back now, your reputation is ruined. You won't be able to find work, and there will certainly be questions…

Pointed tips of clawed fingers brush through your hair from behind you, raising gooseflesh on the back of your arms.

"Well, as luck would have it, I know someone who's hiring."

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster lover #monster romance #monster x reader #trans male monster #male reader #harpy #harpy x reader #monster x human #trans mlm #trans mxm #oc: kira #oc: bertram #tarot oneshots #nine of words

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