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yandere-kokeshi · 11 months

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— His Mate

Pairing || Yandere werewolf! Ghost x gn reader

Summary || Working on a dangerous mission, you and Ghost re-meet after being separated. However, something goes wrong— making Ghost reveal his trust identity and his obsession for you, to come forth.

Warnings || yandere, lycropathy, imprinting(?), and smut: dubcon, gender-neutral genitals, descriptions of the reader having pubic hair, talks about kids, size difference, blood obsession(?), oral (reader receiving), breeding, knotting, and slight somnophilia

It’s a dire situation.

To the explosions, nearly being hit by a bullet, and now being separated from 141 during the firefight, you’d navigate north to a safe house, rather a cabin dispatched amongst the coms you’d flipped too.

The language was hardly understandable, but you were able to pick up some words.

It’s freezing cold, the gush of rain pouring down on you as lightning cracks above your head. Gear soaked through, hair damp and covered in likely blood and mud; if not more. The moisture and ice surrounding you was working to create a deep freeze into your narrow bones, and it’s working– pretty damn well, too.

Mud splatters your camo-clad shins as you sprint through the forest terrain, heart lurching out of your chest as your soaked fingers fumbled with your gun to the sodden ground.

The moist and crispy air of midnight caked your face with frozen lids, blood staining your face. Your lungs were burning, legs cramping and stinging from the amount of running you’ve achieved.

You continue going, thunder rumbling in the clouds above, exhaustion gnaws at your joints as you shoot and cut-throat enemies from behind, their thick blood staining your face, and hands. Creating an emotionless barrier; nothing behind your eyes but annoyance.

If it weren’t for your radio, you’d be pestering Ghost. But due to the stray bullet, that certainly would’ve ripped through your heart if not for the layers of plastic settled over it, you had to count on your distance and not for help.

Just a little more, and you’ll arrive. And from there, you can focus on radioing the team; shooting a private message to Ghost to ensure your safety. He was protective, after all. But, for now, you had too—

Crack.

Before you could react, chaos erupts — the sounds of trees cracking down as an explosion comes from behind you. The wave of warmth and smell of gunpowder settled into your lungs. A bomb had gone off.

Panicked voices overlay each other in different languages. The thumps of bodies and flurry of shouts shot you to your very core. Breathing heavily, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you find yourself hiding behind a sturdy tree.

The bark cutting at your palms, a reminder of the unforgiving chaos that surrounds you as you brace for incoming fire. Instantly, you gripped the gun slung behind your shoulder and started reloading it; cursing at yourself for not doing it sooner.

As it clicked, ready and loaded, someone shouted out a name.

“Ghost!” someone wails, and your blood runs cold, eyes widening. The whizzing of high-powered bullets persists, dropping mercenaries into the mud beneath them.

You hear yelled orders, fighters urged to retreat by the incoming deaths, like a poison parade.

Before you know it, all that’s left is the sound of your ears buzzing, the aftermath of the familiar bomb — the infinite number of trees swaying as more lightning struck ahead of you. Your brain was splattered, focusing on your inner voice instead of the upcoming footsteps.

“Cobra, come out.”

You hesitate, teeth digging into your bottom lip. But with the thick, British accented voice familiarized to your brain, you eased your head out, clenching your grip on the gun as you checked for any more enemies before your eyes landed on the man itself. His hulking build that you could recognize anywhere.

You’d be lying if you said you were unperturbed by the sight, fallen enemy combatants surrounded him, his gear covered in blood, as was his skull mask stained with gore.

It was considered normal — but with the moon outlining his silhouette, the light bouncing off the turbid forest floor behind him, it was intimidating.

Almost as if it was a warning about what was coming. What was ahead in the future.

“Price sent me your last coordinates before you went AWOL,” Ghost states, clearing his throat as he bent down. Knees loudly popping as his hand curled around the knife, deepened inside a soldier’s head, and pulled it out with a thick sound.

The gush of gore, and the slick sound of the knife easily coming out, made you cringe. Your throat tightened, you wanted to gag but stopped yourself as he shot a look at you.

“Left quite a mess back there,” he added, looking at you with sharpened eyes as he stood back up. His knees popping yet again. His gun shuffled as he wiped the bloody knife onto his pant leg, before putting it back into the original place.

You forced a smile, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “It’s what I’m best at, no?”

He let out a chuckle, something that wasn’t rare or common to hear. But it was something. Something that left you tingling.

He stayed quiet and looked at you — almost like he could see, and feel you. Though, he spoke up after noticing your awkward stance.

“Le’s get going, safe house is ahead. From there, I’ll radio Price.”

Staring into the bubbling pan of water settled over the small fire, you relish in warmth that creeps across your chilled body. Still, you’re soaked, the scent of iron and mud assaults your nose, the water that you pick off the fire cautiously heated enough to scrub the blood off your face and hands.

Though, as you look up at Simon, you quickly notice his demeanor is off; something amiss. Sure, he’s cold. But, he’s colder – brown eyes that are seemingly covered in nothing. Almost like something has taken over him, nothing of him is there; non-exist, and non-recognizable.

His distant and blocking agency seems somewhat peculiar – lost in thought, intermittently clicking his tongue whilst cleaning his gun. Concerned, you gently approach, offering a caring inquiry: “You okay?” you ask.

To which, he nods with a grunt. But you didn’t buy it, it was clear something was bothering him. But he’s known for being stubborn and not one to let people in unless necessary.

Ghost had seated himself in the corner of the large, relatively empty room – looking quite ridiculous. He was attempting to fit himself in the short-legged chair as he was cleaning his weapons, and you had to hold back a laugh. You dipped the dripping rag back into the hot water, dragging it across your skin.

“Y’know…” you started, making him stop before looking up at you. “You can tell me whatever is botherin’ you. I’m not like Johnny.”

“I’m fine.”

You raised your eyebrow at his reply, making him grunt as a less efficient, threatening way of ‘quit it before I make you’.

“Are you sure?” You pressed on, “It definitely seems like something is on your mind. And while I may not—”

Ghost said your name in a threatening tone. His brown eyes watching you from beneath the mask. Eyes boring into you, watching you struggle to remove what was left of the grime and gore that failed to wash away.

You sighed, and puckered out your lips like a duck, “Whatever you say, Mr. Grumpy-pants.”

Minutes blurred by you, and before you know it, the small fire had set itself out; embers flickering around as that was the only thing keeping you two sane. You groaned, looking behind you the next minute before standing up.

“Going to get more wood,” you say out loud, and Simon had nodded — letting yourself feel a bit more relieved before your hand barely curled at the knob, and it’s when you heard it; the most guttural sound that sounded like a blend of a growl and snarl.

He said your name in a painful whisper. Not your code name– your right name.

As you turn, you see him on his knees; his large hand grasping his chest. Heart attack? No. Something highly on not happening. But… panic attack?

“Ghost?” you asked, concerned, stepping forward before stopping at his shaking head. He was in pain and it was hurting you.

“Fuck—” he grunted, heaving as his body started to shake violently. “D-on’t come closer.”

Your eyebrows raise automatically, looking at him eerily. “Why can’t I get close to you?”

He grunted, moaning out in pain again, as yet another growl erupted from the bellows of his chest. And before you could say anything else, his holster gun fell from his arm to the floor. The sound of clattering and the smell of aforementioned sensed you to reality.

“I- we need to get you up, what’s going on—!”

Almost as if the universe tricked you, ripping came next — the man you knew was no longer there. But instead, a hulking black-wolf took his place, boring holes in you and cracking each bone in his skeleton into places.

Like a Cobra, you stiffened. Ready to attack the friend you once knew.

“Ghost…?” you confessed, heavy breathing as adrenaline shot through you. By the time you whispered his name, he grew in size. Being too large. Too inhuman. Monstrously. Midnight mass fur grew onto his body, the sounds of bones breaking and reforming, his gear tearing off like nothing as scarred ears, a large snout, and patched fur grew all over him like parasites — paralyzing you like venom.

You couldn’t fathom his form, taking a few steps back as he whined out in pain; teeth, once human, now becoming a famous creature that you imagined as a myth.

And these eyes, they were wide and bright as Amber and honey, the color that contrasted greatly through the darkness. They were large and squinted, and the sound of snarling brought you to know you were being threatened.

But yet, you couldn’t do anything.

His military boots outgrew, rising and shredding apart as the feet he once had, turned into paws with long claws. The curving nails scraped into the wooden floor, snapping of planks and splinters flew around his feet, echoing the noises of his cracking bones and whines of pain.

It was practically towering over you, all muscle and height, and it made you feel powerless underneath it, trapped under its hardened gaze and intensity of its possible strength.

You let a small gasp out, uneven breaths being snaked out as he licked his chops, rearing back, bending the wooden-planks and the fallen gun underneath his weight. Turning his canine head at your expression.

“S-imon…?” you whimper, hands shaking as you winced at the bones still cracking.

His large head came down, eyeing you deeply at one side before walking forward, nudging at your leg. The sound you didn’t want to let out was paralyzed by fear, you didn’t want to let him know you were rather scared, as you watched with no knowledge of what he could do next.

He left you no room to move, the fear finally choking you of words. And you could only babble out words that would normally leave you embarrassed.

“Who— what… are you?” your gaze turned to him, reminding yourself that your demand was weak. You knew so, but a bigger part of you was buried in denial. He was Ghost. Still is.

His eyes, once cold, a beautiful brown, and stood on deck, now were sharp and bright with yellow, contrasting so strongly against his scarred, ripped fur and inky shades. His head barely grazed the top of the ceiling, his ears flickering as more bones cracked in place. The snapping and crunching was horrifying.

“Smell– your smell… sweet,” those words fell into your stomach and sank like lead. His whiskered lips and sharp teeth curved around his spotted gums. He growled, smelling– grinning at your feared state, “Mine. You’re mine.”

Before you could think, your feet kicked his chest backwards — he roared, taking a few steps back from your move.

Seconds blurred by you, and right as you lunged toward the door beside you, nearly skinning your knees on the floor, you heard a thick snarl from the beast behind you.

His claws, bigger than your head, were suddenly pinned at your hips and yanked you back, making you face plant onto the floor before he dragged you enough feet away for his satisfaction. Capturing you more into the depth of his hold.

Blood– you tasted it before feeling it, your nose bleeding from the impact, and you groaned; the smell of iron making its way back to you, and he noticed this.

He turned you right-side up, his claws ripping holes in your clothes. You let a small whimper out, as his large head came to nudge at your shoulder. Almost as if he was trying to calm you, showing he wasn’t a threat.

He whined out, taking your quiet frame and heaving breaths as more fear — apologizing for hurting his beloved.

And with that, his warm wet and pink tongue suddenly started lapping at your arm, then your neck and finally a rough lick from your jawline up towards your nose. Starting at, licking up the very same blood that’s coming down your face — nearly suffocating you with his rough texture.

He needed to comfort his mate. His, his, his!

You grimaced at his tongue, the rough black and pink muscle not stopping when you moved side to side, trying to dodge it. Was he now tasting you for taste?

You pushed at its brawny chest to get some space, but he didn’t listen– his rough tongue continuing his assaults. Behind him, you could see glimpses of a tail swinging strongly behind him; the thick tail slightly wagging at your blood.

Fuck. What was he going to do? Rut you? Fill you? Mark you? Kill you?

Suddenly, he growled — earning a gasp from you, as you watched his pupils dilate, his tongue coming out to heave; dried blood on his muscle.

“Don’t mean to scare ya’. Jus’ drivin’ me insane, sweetheart,” he states, licking your jaw one last time before his claws – trying to on being careful – shreds your gear and pants to bits.

You answered with your frozen stiff body, a long wine erupting from the man above you as your teeth chatted one against each other.

“Let… me go, Simon. Now!” you demanded, but his claw rose from your bruised hip and cocked a sharp nail to your chin, making you look up at him; his golden irises digging holes into your soul. Deepening his animal need for you.

“I jus’ got you, I promise I’ll treat you well.” he purred in your ear, licking yet another strip at your face before making his way down to your sex.

“Simon–!”

“You’ll be mine, nobody will take you away from me; fill you full of my cum. Mark you, take care of you. Until I’m satisfied.” he said while lifting your lower body up from the ground, grabbing your ankles to set them beside his head, his hot breath shaking you to your core.

“NO!” you screamed, suddenly snapping back to reality. His ears folded in an angry expression, the sound positively jarring to his sensitive ears. “No– you can’t, no, no! You won’t–!”

His body was heavy, one paw leaning against your stomach to keep you still. You didn’t even realize you were squirming until he applied more weight, earning you a whine that you didn’t even know you could let out until now.

“Mine,” he growled, “That’s what you are,” Simon pressed his wide hips forward, making you feel his cock– his long, swelling hot, and erect cock that was awaiting to be stuffed inside you. His knot pulsing, as if it was begging to feel your taut walls clenching around it.

You shook your head, denying his claims. Denying his appearance. This is a dream, this is a dream. A dream!

But when he tore away your undergarments, flattening his tongue over your fluttering entrance, the sensation caused you to realize —- nothing of this ‘dream’ was fake, but instead of a standing still.

He stuffs his whole snout into your bush and groans. The feeling is alien, his muzzle warm and wet, and you shudder with it. “You smell divine.”

You attempt to swat him away, but to no avail, he growls at your antics, showing his teeth as a warning.

“Tastes good,” he purrs, his deep and raspy voice shuddering you. He started licking long, broad strokes and making unwanted moans escape your lips — fingers digging into your bruised thighs, and his saliva adding to the sensations.

You cry out, bucking your hips into his maw as he grunted– licking up all your juices like his last meal. Walls clamp down on his thick tongue, thrusting it in and out of your hole as you’re subjected to the pleasure.

Though, just as your stomach starts getting warm; your abdomen heating up like a lamp, he pulls away. Making you whine out.

“M’ make you cum in a few.”

Ghost towers over you — his thick structure showing off his heated, non-sheathed cock. Making you realize what he’s referring to as his swollen tip nudges at your entrance; the pulsing heat making you clench your thighs unintentionally.

“Won’t fit–! No. Simon—!”

You cried out as he growled in response, his tongue licking your neck to soothe the oncoming pain. It hurts so bad. Yet so good as he fills you so full.

You prayed he’d be gentle– but you knew better. And in a rough instant, your stomach swelled, and fire consumed you. Air rushed out from your lungs from his thick, girthy cock into your tightening, barely prepped channel, and you quiver in ecstasy at how utterly full you are right now.

The beast, Simon, grunts and heaves; some of his drool drops on your face as he tries to calm you down with him nudging his head into your face.

“Oh– fuck,” you whispered, panting as your teeth bit into your bottom lip.

Simon’s thick paw continued to press on your stomach, hitching out breaths as his cock slowly started to piston in and out of you. “You’d look so pretty, filled with my babies. Getting all swollen and full of my cum.”

He smirked– his thick teeth shining in the dim fire, dragging his tongue up your neck.

“Breed– need to breed you,” he gave a harsh thrust, making you feel the thick part of his cock pushing inside. He let you cry out as your legs curled around his lower hips, tightening your hold as he hit that part.

And without another word, he shoves his cock back out and in, pounding into your soaked hole with animalistic, determination and vigor speed. With Simon being so deep into you, you didn’t even realize you were begging for more, and more.

“Wa—eugh” you gurgled, smearing your tears against his fur as with each slap of the furry balls on his body, he sank further. His fat cock splits you open and makes a mess of sweat, tears, and drool on the wooden floor of the abandoned shack.

It’s too much, too much— it’s too good.

Your walls tighten up around him, making him snarl out, bullying his cock into you at a more rapid pace as he pulls away from your neck; grunting in your ear with promises.

“Fill you with my cum– belly so full. Full of my pups, I promise.”

As if he didn’t nearly split you in half, he took himself almost out; gripping your hips before turning you on your stomach, making you support yourself on your bruised knees as his claws nicked your skin.

He spread apart your ass, plunging back inside, and continuing with his animalistic pace; heaving and snarling above you.

“—plea—god!” your nails scraped at the wood, leaving marks that you didn’t care about. All you cared about was his knot. His, his, his. Everything of his cum. “Fuck–! Knot… Wan’ your knot!”

You babble nonsense, your body growing tired as his knot was slowly getting bigger– creating delicious friction as it rubbed against your inner walls. But, interrupting your soon-to-be climax was Simon coming down, leaning on your lower back for support as he snarled, aggressively nipping at your shoulder before licking the open wound.

You were his — his mate, his to claim in every way.

Without hesitation, he bit on the back of your shoulder. Hard. You cried out, feeling blood trickle down your arm and neck, tears pricking in the corner of your ears. And Simon whined.

He didn’t mean to do that! He was so out of focus on breeding you, he had hurt you. Comfort. He needs to comfort you.

Simon didn’t stop licking– not until he saw that your tears were long gone, and the smell of fear and shock had gone away. But instead, blinding lust and more was demanded.

And you could no longer talk, pain lingering, but pleasure buzzing on the edges of your nerves. Numbing every sensation but the beast within you and blanked the world but him, and his inhuman cock stretching you too big. Time didn’t exist.

Your body grew tense– a white-hot flash washing you whole. Your abdomen was tightening so much it hurt, and then it snapped. And suddenly — everything grew too much.

You cried out, tears forming out of stimulation, but he wasn’t done. You couldn’t think anymore, and after several moments of his vigorous fucking, he howls– his knot expanding painfully, stretching it to unbeknownst size, and his cock twitches violently as he spills inside, the large load obscene within you.

The stretching ended with an audible pop, stuffing you completely as he bucked his hips at your squirming. “G—” you stumbled with the start, “G-get out of me!” you tried elbowing him, pleasure growing to a near painful degree before his claws grabbed your bicep gently.

Then, your stomach felt heavier. It hurts so good, and so hot.

He purred, “Be quiet, honey— m’ filling you real hot.”

He fucks into you for another few, sloppy thrusts before he stops to ‘clean’ you. Nudging you with his wet nose into your neck affectionately,

You’re a proper mess now. The load of cum feels obscene within you, all warm and sticky. He held you against his taut chest, rumbling in a way that felt like a cat purring; somehow soothing you.

His thick claw gripped under your chin, forcing you to look at him as he huffed quietly, “I’ll take real good loving care of ya’ and our lil’ pups.” he jostled you somehow deeper to just the right spot, and you whimpered; quite in a state of being fucked raw by a beast who has it’s knot stuck inside you.

“…are we staying like this?” you asked, looking down, curious and intimidated by the sight below. Mustering some strength, you slid down a tingling hand to support you as Ghost licked your shoulder.

“For a while, I reckon,” you arched your back as his teeth slithered across your beating pulse.

Fuck, a single movement by him has you wanting more. But you’re tired. So, so tired.

You tremble and whimper, feeling his cock still hard — your limbs now coming limp with exhaustion as your eyes roll back into your skull. You’re so tired on Ghost’s monstrously cock that you don't even notice that he lays down with you, cradling your body close to his warm one.

“You’re mine. All mine,” he mutters, feeling your heartbeat succumb to sleep before he starts grinding into your ass. You whined, murmuring something. But he shushes you, making you fall into a blissful sleep as the man, the monster you once knew, keeps rutting into you from behind.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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aerenp · 1 month

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warning: n$fw

Top amab werewolf reader x bottom amab monster fucker

-they can't help but get horny around you. They have to try to hide their hard on whenever you growl or hold them down playfully

-can't help but fanitise about your knot, you losing control during the full moon and breeding them all night

-you can smell their arousal and you make a game of teasing them and turning them on while acting oblivious

-hugging them, putting them on your lap like it's completely normal, calling them "your little human"-rubbing your scent on them to claim them from others which they can't smell

-going into your rut one day and them 'coicidently' coming to visit

-panting as you pin them down, trying to hold back but its so hard when they smell so strongly of want

-them baring their neck, knowing it from studying werewolf customs, daring you to mark them

-teeth grazing over their neck as you lick at a spot, them letting out a needy whine as they press into you

-not being able to hold back anymore and sinking your teeth into them to which they groan, hips bucking

-sucking and licking at your mark lovingly after until their hard on is straining painfully against their pants and they're squirming

-"please, just touch me already–"

-You're already ripping through their clothes and they don't even care about how much money they've spent on them

-Putting their length into your mouth eagerly, they have to hold themselves back from coming straight away

-their hands clutch your hair tightly as your hot tongue circles their cock and your head moves up and down

-they come quickly and you swallow it all down hungrily, sucking it out eagerly

-they're still sensitive but just as quickly you're already lifting their legs up easily as you lick at their entrance

-they tremble slightly, letting out keening moans as your long tongue circles their hole and pressing the tip in

-they quickly harden again as you start to stretch them open with a finger, then two, putting their legs on your shpulders

-you fuck them with your fingers, thrusting them into their prostate, "Wait, wait, wait– I'm gonna come again–"

-But you love to see them come, you watch as they shudder, eyes rolling back as their cum splatters over their chest

-they quiver as you lay them down again, licking up every drop from their chest, their eyes wetten from overstimulation, "I'm still– sensitive-" and though they tell you to stop you can smell their desire

-you start to take off your clothes, but they tell you to wait before taking them off themselves, their mouth watering as they pull out your large fully erect cock.

-you lean over them, cock lining up to their entrance, "Put it in already–" not one to deny what you already wanted you started to slide into them as let out a long satisfied moan as you stretch them out

-once you finally bottom out, excluding your knot, their hand feels their stomach, delighting in the small bulge

-it's hard to hold back the urge to just start rutting into them when they look at you with that flushed blessed out face, their pretty mark on their neck showing how they're yours "You can- start moving–"

-you slowly move, their walls hugging your cock just right, pressing them down in a mating press, their legs pushed back "Unghh yesss–"

-"C'mon harder– please—" You starting thrusting faster in a rhythm, the slap of your body against them and their moans filling the room

-soon you're fucking into them like a dog, a desperateness to your thrusts, chasing the pleasure as they hold on tightly to you, nails digging into your back and moaning with no end

-They've already came several times by the time you do, and they can barely speak as they've been reduced into a blabbering moaning mess.

-"Inside, inside– put your knot inside—" they say desperately, hips pressing into you, arms holding on tight before you slide it in and your cum fills them up.

-they groan in satisfaction, having a dry orgasm from it, already milked dry

-as your knot settles in them you mark them more, covering their neck in hickeys and licking at your mark more

-Mate your wolf tells you, but before they were just a friend, what did this mean for your relationship?

-Mine. Marked. Claimed.

-But you already knew didn't you? You'd known it long ago how much they'd wanted you

-"Mate," you say aloud.

-they smile, "Mate," they agree and you kiss them again.

#gender neutral reader #male reader #gn reader #top male reader #top reader #dom male reader #x dom male reader #amab reader #amab nonbinary #werewolf reader #werewolf #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster fudger

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banj0possum · 5 months

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Sweet Hero Of Mine

Yandere! Antihero x GN! Hero! Reader

im back little stinkers <333

Edit!! Nsfw mentions removed! Replaced with..Elias being a dork ?

CW: Stalking, Creep behavior, Suggestive talk about reader, slight masochism

🪲 Elias was never into the whole Superhero thing.

🪲 He hated the constant swarming of reporters and fans screaming for his attention. He didn't want to be treated like a celebrity; he just wants to fight crime where people refuse to help.

🪲 That's why he avoided ever displaying himself like that. He preferred to stay in the shadows and kept his deeds out of the picture, but there are always rats scurrying around ready for another big scoop.

🪲 He could only scoff amusingly as he sees his little escapade last night being reported on tv with a blurry photo of him on the rooftops with the words "Mysterious Vigilante Strikes Again!"

🪲 He can admit, seeing them being so absorbed in what he does is pretty entertaining, he can feel his ego go up a bit.

🪲 Soon enough he gets tired of the incessant yap of interviewees talking about him and reaches for the remote.

🪲 His body freezes though when the reporter mentions some 'new hero' and he turns back to the TV.

🪲 His eyes are blessed with the cutest sight of a person dressed in a hero outfit with a logo on their chest. Their warm smile seems to radiate happiness as they talk to the reporter. Is this the new hero they've been talking about recently?

🪲 They ask for their opinion on the vigilante situation and he almost melts over their soft voice.

🪲 "I believe this guy has good intentions. Which is great and all but if it's endangering people and their properties, I think it's time they think about how running around and punching people in a suit isn't being heroic, it's being obnoxious!"

🪲 There goes his ego..

🪲 And perhaps his clean pants..

🪲 He starts researching all about this new hero. Who do they think they are?! This little brat has to be taught a lesson!

🪲 He stalks your social media, every fan account, every news atricl about your deeds, everything.

🪲 For for blackmail of course! Maybe he can find some dirt on you..in this fan account that makes thirst edits of you..

🪲 Soon enough he starts tracking you and your appearances. Every fight with a villain or any burning building with people that need saving, he's there with a high-grade camera that can snap all the rips and tears in your suit...for blackmail!

🪲 He's real happy that he wore a trench coat to your most recent battle or else everyone would have probably seen his growing boner whenever you throw a punch that connected to your opponent.

🪲 He's combing through the photos he took of you and shivers over your sweaty form and aggressive face.

🪲 He imagines meeting you, perhaps having a battle of his own, being pinned down by you, having your arms grappling and squeezing on his body. Perhaps you'd even say something degrading to him with that sweet voice of yours..

🪲 So that's what he does.

🪲 You were doing some last-minute night patrols after a long day of crime fighting and interviews when you hear a deep gravelly voice behind you.

🪲 "Hey there hero~"

🪲 You look back and see a large muscular man in a suit that looked like the armor of some insect.

🪲 "Huh, didn't expect to meet you here vigilante!" I joke.

🪲 "Oh please, call me Beetle~" He smirks as he walks closer to you. God you're even cuter in person..

🪲 "Well, Beetle, you are aware that you're kinda sorta wanted for a lotta stuff right?"

🪲 "Is it worse than the shit those pieces of scum done? Unlike youre pretty little ass I'm actually gettin bad guys off the streets.~" He teases, putting a hand on the wall and leaning close to your face. He's trying not to swoon over your stern face.

🪲 "Unlike you, I'm keeping people safe! Although I do commend your...unique sense of justice.."

🪲 *internal squealing*

🪲 He's a little surprised that you're so nice, unlike some other douchey heroes he knows.

🪲 He lets out a chuckle "That's new..Thanks goody-two-shoes.."

🪲 You give him a teasing face "Hey I'm not that much of an angel!"

🪲 "Oh~? Well o me you are, sweet hero of mine~"

🪲 You two become quick friends, even having missions together.

🪲 His obsession got worse from there.

🪲 Riding in your superhero vehicle, he rarely looks anywhere but at you driving, explaining to him the mission that he barely cares about other than the fact that it's an excuse to be with you.

🪲 Every time you take his hand to lead him somewhere, he makes sure to burn the feeling into his mind. Oftentimes he's the one doing whatever it takes to have physical contact with you, but it's way better whenever you initiate it.

🪲 You love taking pictures together. Of course he never smiles when you take one but when he's back at home, he's staring at it with the biggest, goofiest grin.

🪲 He loves taking pictures too, only he prefers ones with you and you alone. Sometimes it would be things you like so he wouldn't forget.

🪲 You blush, flattered over him remembering your favorite drink.

🪲 He'd memorize anything you say and put it in a top secret file named "My Love"

🪲 Oh my god please degrade him jokingly.

🪲 Bully him, push him around, be playfully rough with him!! Sure it's all in good fun but he's feeding his guilty pleasure whenever you treat him like shit while also being so sweet to him.

🪲 Pull him down suddenly by his suit's collar whenever you want to whisper something to him or show him something, he loves it. Although be warned, he might moan a little..

🪲 He's crazy for you, insane even, bonkers almost!!

🪲 He comes home seeing you in a superhero gala at one of the fanciest buildings in the city.

🪲 The bone-breaking grip on his beer bottle almost cracks the bottle when he sees you being accompanied by some other hero.

🪲 They're being all close with you and making you laugh, he can feel his jealousy rise within his body at the sight of your adorable smile, one that wasn't because of his jokes, his company!

🪲 Maybe it's about time he gives this superhero thing a try..

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ozzgin · 10 months

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Yandere! Monster x Reader [Werewolf]

In Romanian mythology, Pricolici is an evil spirit believed to be born after the death of wicked humans, able to transform into certain animals such as ferocious dogs and wolves. The etymology is unknown, although it's suspected to be of Dacian origin, thus going as far back in time as the 1st century BC. An ancient creature has set its predatory eyes on you.

Winner of the Folklore Monster Poll celebrating Romanian history!

TW: obsessive behavior, violence, death

[Horror Masterlist] [More Headcanons]

He can tell it's a dream. Nonetheless, it always feels unbearably real. He can smell the incense, hear the hurried trample of feet underneath him. He wants to open his mouth and demand they stop. No words ever come out, the throat is dry and flattened by heavy despair. It's a dream, after all. The priests march on, and the spears are lifted. For a moment, he's blinded by their powerful, sharp glisten. As he gazes at the sacred circle, it occurs to him just how uncomfortable the shackles are. He becomes somewhat distracted by this irritating friction, so much he doesn't register the instructions given by the mysterious men.

Centuries later, he would stumble upon an old history book by Herodotus that detailed his misfortune:

"The Getae are the bravest of the Thracians and the most just. They believe they are immortal, forever living, in the following sense: they think they do not die and that the one who dies joins Zalmoxis, a divine being. Every four years, they send a messenger to Zalmoxis, who is chosen by chance. They ask him to tell Zalmoxis what they want on that occasion. The mission is performed in the following way: men standing there for that purpose hold three spears; other people take the one who is sent to Zalmoxis by his hands and feet and fling him in the air on the spears. If he dies pierced, they think that the divinity is going to help them; if he does not die, it is he who is accused and they declare that he is a bad person. And, after he has been charged, they send another one. The messenger is told the requests while he is still alive."

The foreign hands tighten around his limbs and he takes a deep breath in, ready for the plunge. Truth be told, he's not too anxious. The first time was terrifying, but one becomes accustomed to death if it repeats itself, night after night as the years pass and millennia settle over it, like a thick blanket of ash and bone and dust. He doesn't remember the pain anymore, only the bitterness. The wrath. He had no business playing God's messenger. He hadn't wished to be choking on his own blood, rippling violently at the corners of his mouth as his eyes dart over the excited masses. There are claps and cheers, and hope, and peace. Just not for him.

No matter, if they long so dearly after eternity, he'll become their very proof. A tangible undead, a creature of eternity. Let them gaze at their ardent desire as it claws their bowels out for the birds to feed on. Let them sing praise before their God as their soft throats detangle under his fangs. Before he knows it, the corpses lay mangled at his feet and he notices his horrid reflection swaying in the puddles of fresh blood.

He has become a beast.

And just like that, the nightmare ends. It always ends here. He pats the sweat off his forehead with the monotonous vigor of habit. It's already noon and the narrow street flocks with curious tourists and natives on their stroll. Every now and then he will venture into the city, just to get a glimpse of the world. He twists the knob and opens a window, enjoying the breeze that cools his skin. His tired eyes wander around with no purpose.

That's when he sees you. Your wide, carefree smile as you converse with your friend. You're drawing circles along the edge of your coffee cup, propped over the table, entranced by your discussion. Your gentle laugh rings unexpectedly loud against his ears. He finds himself frozen in place, unable to contract a single muscle.

"Oh, this trail is supposed to have some really nice sights." Your friend is shuffling through unfolded maps, spread out onto the small café table. "We should leave pretty early though, otherwise it'll get dark before the return."

You groan at the idea. Your friend responds with a chuckle.

"Remember, our tour guide joked about werewolves roaming the outskirts. Do you want to be eaten?" She inquires with a cheeky grin.

"You know I have a thing for monsters." You answer with a wink.

The jokes carry on until the bill arrives, and you eventually stand up and merrily make your way down the street. For a brief moment you feel a cold shiver running down your spine, so you peek back inquisitively. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Ah. By the time his focus returns, the sun is setting, reflecting its crimson rays over the old cobblestone. You've been gone for a while, so he must've been staring into the nothingness for good hours. He clears his throat, mildly embarrassed by his absent-mindedness. He isn't hungry, so he has trouble explaining his sudden captivation with a random human.

Even more bizarre is the consequence of the accidental encounter. The following nights are devoid of the usual torment. Has he ever had a peaceful slumber before? He can't recall. And yet here he is, vacantly eyeing the ceiling without the labored breath or cold shivers, faintly reminiscing about your amused expression. He frowns slightly at the realization that his recollection seems to contain less details compared to yesterday. Your face is smudged by the intense light of the noon, titled at an angle that allows no shadows to discern the features. What will he do when it's entirely gone? A faceless memory, anchored in the depths of his heart as a reminder of what could've been. Is there some universal law that dictates only misery remains unforgotten, or is he just exceptionally unlucky? Infuriating.

The overwhelming sensation creeps upon him again. A primordial vengefulness that hasn't yet released him from its cold, bony fingers. For once, can't he be granted fairness? His jaw clenches and he marches out of the room.

Tonight shall be a feast.

The lights are still on in the little tavern inn, and through the small windows he can make out the lively movement of the people inside. He glances at the waning moon one final time. The world may change, and the years may pass, but one thing has never left him throughout the centuries. Always bearing the same pallid, melancholic countenance, his taciturn companion rises, indifferent to the Universe.

His back arches outwards, the bones tear and twist, the joints dislocate and the skin is giving way to coarse, thick fur. His eyes now carry an amber glow as they rest on the modest building. Without further hesitation, he pounces on the door and it folds like cardboard under his inhuman strength. The room goes quiet and all heads turn to him. He recognizes that look. A fleeting second of fear and curiosity, before true panic settles in. But they rarely have the time to scream. Just as the vocal chords contract and vibrate, their chests are trashed and limbs are tattered. Splattered visceral remains and blood coat the ground under his feral attack.

You squeeze your eyes closed and force your hands over your mouth to ensure your stillness to the massacre. You were just returning from the bathroom when you heard the wails and the wet sounds of mutilated flesh. You'd ducked behind the wall and hid under an end table. What the hell is that creature? You initially thought a wild wolf had somehow made its way into the tavern, but no animal can be this large. There is a backdoor, but on the other side of this hall. You'd have to sprint across the archway that leads into the main room. Then again, if it's this busy ripping the others apart...

No need to ponder your options much. Silence falls behind you, which means the creature must have finished its horrid sport early. His snout picks up a particular scent and he tenses up, expectantly. Could it be?

The wooden parquet tiles creak under the weight of foreign footsteps; a human approaching you. You look up from under the table. Has someone dealt with the beast? Although you immediately regret revealing yourself. You freeze in your spot, hands propped on the ground, like prey awaiting execution.

The man is unnaturally tall, having to crouch under the ceiling, with wild black hair and rough features. His chiseled face is painted red, and his clothing is torn apart and soaked in blood. His large hands end in sharp claws, and amid his ruffled locks you can distinguish animal ears.

There you are.

Well, quite the irony to meet you here of all times and places. From this distance, you look even prettier. He bends over slightly to examine the details that have faded since the first encounter. A surreal experience, really. Seeing you kneel right in front of him and not as a figment of his imagination. He extends his fingers over your face and presses his nails in, leaving a vague trail of swollen, red skin. What a frail being you are.

"Your friend is alive, by the way." His deep, dissonant voice pierces the silence.

"O-oh." You gasp. You were so anxious you barely understood the meaning of his words.

"You may check on her if you so desire, however..."

He considers it. Normally, even after allowing his anger to seep into cadavers and ruins, all he's left with is disgust and emptiness. Yet your presence seems to fill him with unfamiliar comfort. If one is drowning, is it truly selfish to hold onto the first thing that keeps them afloat? The only people who'd condemn such beggar are the ones that have never been underwater. They don't know what it's like to have your lungs tighten and collapse under the heavy pressure, waving your arms towards a surface that's never reached.

"...You'll be coming with me afterwards."

You can only stare.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He attempts to simulate a smile. "I suppose I'm not too convincing like this", he jokes as he gestures towards his body, "But you have my word I'll never harm you."

"Why, though?" You manage to stutter, frowning in confusion.

He's taken aback by your inquiry. Perhaps his statement is indeed more threatening than anything else. On the other hand, he hasn't conversed with humans in...longer than he can remember. What might pose as convincing in this case? Drawing out a rose and confessing his undying love among the bodies he murdered feels rather ridiculous. Suddenly, a passage he's once read comes to mind. At the time, it depressed him greatly. Now it feels like the only fitting reasoning.

"Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?"

"Isn't that from Stoker's Dracula? How is it-"

You pause and search his eyes. Golden trenches of loneliness and gloom. Your heart is heavy and your mouth curls into a grimace the longer you stare into these pools swirling with agony.

"I understand." Is all you can mutter as you stand up.

Have you had a choice to begin with? Not even the frothing waves of a storming ocean can come between a dying man and his only raft.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #werewolf x reader #yandere werewolf #female reader #gender neutral reader #yandere horror #horror x reader #yandere oc #romanian folklore #daos

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kind-lion · 4 months

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Cuddling with Monster Boyfriends

Werewolf Bf that's so big and hairy and pulls you into his chest, it's soft and warm and safe and he is growling whenever you try to move out, even just a hand to reach for the water. He nuzzles into your neck and you can feel his every breath. He pulls you on top of him and keeps you in place, you feel his every breath with the steady rise and fall of his chest. It's a mess of fur.

Incubus Bf that does the same but much tighter, needs much more skin on skin contact. He holds you so tight he wants you to merge into his chest. His thin tail wraps around your thigh as he aims to have you completely under him. His hands occasionally stray and squeeze and grab in less than innocent places, but it's all affection.

Succubus Bf on the flip side that presses into your chest, tries to merge in and climb between your ribs to find a place to rest, nestled by your heart. Of course he can't so he'll settle for your arms around him. His tail holds your waist, the tip of it rubbing softly against the small of your back to offer the same comfort you give him.

Dragon Bf just laying on top of you. His weight comfortably weighing you down and shielding you from the outside. He gets to feel you beneath him and the sun warming his back. His wings wrap around you and so does his tail, wrapping you into a warm cocoon where your only worry may be him. Every now and then he squeezes you closer so his treasure doesn't slip from his grasp.

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darkness-in-eden · 3 months

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M Elder Werewolf x GN reader

◈ MDNI ◈ 315 words ◈ CW - noncon, breeding

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The older werewolves get, the more dangerous they become. The moon affects them more, turning them into beasts that want to do nothing but satiate their basic desires. They want meat, and a warm hole to breed.

You're a traveler who lost their way through the woods. You find yourself mere feet away from a towering werewolf with black fur sprinkled with white and a scarred eye. He is possibly over a hundred years old, and twice as tall as a man. His shoulder splinters the bark of a half-grown tree as he stalks towards you. You try to run, but that only excites him more, because predators like to chase. Within seconds you're pinned to the ground. You're terrified that you're about to die, but the werewolf doesn't try to eat you.

Rather, he shreds and rips at your clothes with his claws and teeth, so impatient that he doesn't wait to be buried in you before he's thrusting his powerful hips forward, leaking cock smearing slick all over your thighs and stomach as he humps against your skin.

No! You gasp and flop like a dying fish, trying to crawl away. His heavy weight lands on your back, snarling muzzle against your ear. His cock nudges at you, forcing its way in.

It's too big, it's too much, you cry.

The werewolf ignores you. His husky voice growls praises in your ear.

You're doing so well for me, he soothes. It will be over soon.

You don't know he's lying. He doesn't intend to let you go, not until you're impregnated with his seed, your belly swollen with his litter. He is an outcast from his old pack, so he's looking to create a new one, and he's going to fuck you as many times as it takes.

The problem he isn't aware of is that you can't get pregnant...

#exophilia #monster #monster fucker #monster fucking #monster smut #terato #tw monsterfucking #x reader #monster kink #monster x reader #18+ mdni #werewolf #lycan #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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running-with-kn1ves · 3 months

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Been out in the sticks lately so-- really need a big burly farmer with topaz tan lines, oiled up in washed out jeans and faded flannel in my life right now. Having hired you from the city, the farmer begs you to fix up the flower beds around their house that used to belong to their parents.

They'll teach you how to get the most out of a rake, hands over yours and muscles vibrating with each row. You spend the day on your hands and knees, sweating from the hot sun and digging out weeds. Occasionally you're called inside for a glass of lemonade or cold, home-grown milk.

You admire the farmer for too long, on their tractor or feeding their caddle out of the palm of their hand, straw hat doing little to shade their sculpted body from the unrelenting sun. The sweet scent of their musk is left on the gardening gloves they offer you, warmly perspiring hands helping you out of their beaten down truck after a trip to the other side of the farm. You find it hard to go home, the sun having set and the rode to the outside world now dark and invisible.

The farmer offers you to spend the night instead of driving two hours back to the city. What can you do but say yes? They didnt give you much of an option, having set up the guestroom for you long prior and beginning to cook a fine meal that would insult them to say no to. It takes atleast a half hour to scrub the dirt from under your nails in the bath, with constant knocks at the door from your friendly farmer asking if everything is alright, if the water is hot enough, if you need help washing.

They spend so much time doting on your bathing that they hardly pay mind to themselves, coming out of the shower afterwards in a mere towel as they scrounge around for clothes. It isn't until they make eye contact with you on their bed, waiting, that they stop and stare sheepishly.

"Haha, im sorry darlin' I've lived alone for so long, I've forgotten my manners."

They kiss your knuckles after tucking you in bed, a self assured grin making your heart jump. It's just a job, right? A client who's showing you southern hospitality, yeah?

It isn't long until they're asking you to order more flowers to plant across the acres they own, a project that'll take atleast a few more weeks...

#Werewolf farmer... uncanny creepy idk what that is but it's not human farmer #kn1ves rants #knives rants #writing #x reader #reader insert #self insert #x reader insert #x you #x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #female reader #male reader #Farmer x reader #Farmer love interest #farmer oc #X reader #X reader insert

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bunnis-monsters · 4 months

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NSFW

Your werewolf boyfriend gets into fights a lot, and while his pack thinks he’s a bad ass that can take anything, you know the truth.

The second he’s in your room, his ears pin back and he cries, letting out puppy whimpers and kneading you as you clean his wounds. He pouts and snuggles you, his tail wagging furiously.

He demands to be babied and spoiled… and yes, you have to kiss all of his boo-boos. And it would make him feel a lot better if you sat on his cock and let him knot you…

He might be the scary alpha leader to his pack, but he’s just a puppy to you… a very big, heavy, and horny puppy.

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thot-writes · 1 year

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i just posted art of my werewolf tav & astarion so y’know what?? take this fic to go along w it. what would astarion/the gang do if u were a lil werewolf (i did not mean for it to get this long lol)

your vampire not-quite-boyfriend + the gang find out you’re a cheeky little pup (act i post-grove);

Lycanthropy wasn’t something you were born into like some. No, like most others bearing the curse you were infected with it. The transformation process was an excruciating, torturous one that is still branded into your very bones.

The bloodlust festers in you, day and night, like a splinter that’s burrowed too deep for you to dig out. It calls for you to rip, tear, dominate— kill. But you can suppress it. Mostly. You refuse to be one of the many werewolves that is controlled only by their base instincts.

But every full moon the beast blood takes you completely, and you have no choice but to transform. You never remember the night after you’ve turned back. Only brief snippets of red, pain, and fur.

Despite not tracking the stars, you can normally tell when a full moon’s coming because your body begins to ache, preparing itself to split open to birth the savage wolf that slumbers within. Usually you’d start your preparations to restrain yourself, to limit the carnage as much as possible.

But these aren’t usual times.

Three weeks ago you were captured from your home by mind flayers and infected with a tadpole, your entire world turned inside out with stranger things happening every day.

You now travel with a Sharran, a githyanki, two ticking time-bombs, a warlock, and a vampire.

One of their spawn, at least. It’s a good thing that in Faerûn, vampires and lycanthropes tend to be neutral towards each other — unlike what the romance novels would have you believe. Otherwise it’d make the regular sex you’re having with Astarion quite awkward.

You’d think that knowing all the sordid details about your travelling companions would bid you to confess your lycanthropy, but you could never find a way to bring it up.

Or, more accurately, you could bring it up you just didn’t want to. Not necessarily out of trauma, just convenience on your part. Confessing lycanthropy normally comes with questions, and the way you were turned is… kind of embarrassing, so you’re never keen to retell it.

But tonight, the moon will tell everyone for you. if you don’t get out in time.

The whole day your blood hammered in your flesh, your head splitting apart in a horrific headache and your bones feeling as if they could break and reshape at any moment. You lied to your companions, insisted you must’ve just drank too much last night at camp, and they bought it. Kind of. You hope.

You retired early for the day and whilst the others lounge about the camp you’re near biting your fingers off in uneasy anticipation of what’s to come. You need an excuse— any excuse to get the fuck out of here before the moon fully rises. You think you have an hour at most before you’re no longer you.

“My, but you’ve been looking ill all day, [Name]. I don’t recall you drinking that much last night.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Your heightened senses of smell and hearing usually help in preventing unpleasant surprises, but not today, not when you’re so on-edge. It was Astarion’s lilted voice that called from behind you. A sweet tune you’re all-too-happy to hear, in regular circumstances.

He gazes at you with that hard-to-read gleam in his eyes. The kind of gleam where you’re not sure if it’s because he knows something, is hiding something, or wants to tease you. You manage a shaky smile in response.

“You weren’t with me the whole night, Astarion. We slept separately,” you attempt.

“That night anyway,” he adds with a pretty little grin on his lips. You notice his gaze flickering over your body. “So you’re saying after I drank from you, you… what? Went back to your tent for some late-night binge drinking? Not that I’m surprised, you seem the type, but even still. Your hangover looks particularly… aggressive.”

You throw your hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “What, are you gonna throw an intervention for me? Gonna beat me up? Write me a letter about how much my drinking affects you?”

He chuckles. “Oh please, as if I care that much. I’m just saying that you seem a little sicker than alcohol would leave you.” He gasps, then presses a hand to his face. “What if you were poisoned? By someone in this very camp? How scandalous! My money’s on the gith.”

“If I was poisoned my money’s on you bitch.”

A grin. He always seems to smile so much in your presence. You wonder how much is real. You wonder if you’re overthinking it, or if you smile just as much as he does.

You’re ripped away from your thoughts as a terrible pain grips you. It takes all your strength not to double over right there— you’ve already drawn too much scrutiny, you don’t want more. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your trembling hands still as the curse makes itself known. The pain you experience in transforming is what you’d imagine childbirth to be — if you gave birth to a baby out of every pore. You’ve only had this curse a scant few years, how have people managed to live entire lives with it?

Astarion notices your struggle. He tilts his head and looks on. “You really do seem like you’ve been poisoned. Or at least I hope that’s all it is. If you’re sick then I’m afraid you’ll be sleeping alone for a while longer yet, pup. I don’t want… whatever that is.”

You grit your teeth to prevent a cry. “I’m fi—iine!” you grunt. The pain lapses for a moment, this is your chance to leave. “I just— I have—uhh— really bad diarrhoea!”

“What?”

You make a show of holding your stomach and slouching. “Oh man it’s soooo bad right now, I’m probably gonna be shitting up a storm in the forest all night!”

“Gods above, please… spare me the details. Just go.” Astarion waves you off and grimaces at the mental image you’ve conjured for him.

“Okay, I better go have violent diarrhoea everywhere in the forest now— don’t follow me! Don’t look for me! Don’t let anyone look for me! I gotta go, goodnight! Don’t look for me!”

You give him no time to answer as you sprint into the wilderness. Your heart is hammering and your pulse quickening. You feel you only have a few more minutes until…

A scream escapes you before you can stop it, your skin is starting to bulge and split, revealing [colour] fur beneath it. No— not now, you’re still too close to camp— just hold on a little longer.

You gather all the strength you have, which is more than usual with the wolf so near, and run.

You’re deep in the wild now. Your screams are more frequent, your body produces sickening crunching sounds as the wolf starts its escape. You collapse to the forest floor, writhing in abject agony as your body tears itself apart. Transforming like this only ever takes a few minutes, but it always feels so infinitely long.

Soon your cries morph into a pained howl, and the birthing process is complete. Your mind has now been banished to the darkest recesses of you, and in its place is a beast.

It’s a blur each time you’re turned like this. When it’s of your own volition the process is simpler, quicker— though no less painful. You can maintain control if you focus hard enough. But the forced transformations are a different experience entirely. There is no control, only hunger. Only fangs, claws, and a deep, insatiable yearning for prey.

Astarion did as you asked. He didn’t search for you, not even when he heard that first scream. The thought of walking in on you… projectile excreting was enough of a deterrent to stay his curiosity.

But hours have passed since then. He couldn’t hear you, there was only quiet. When Gale asked where you were, he simply said you had taken ill. But now Astarion was the only one left awake, and there was still no sign of you.

You had been acting off all day. He didn’t believe it was simply a hangover, he’d seen many in his lifetime but they never caused anyone to disappear into the woods. As far as he knew.

But then… what was this odd subtle tightness settling in his chest? The thought that maybe something had happened to you, and you were no longer safe?

Could it possibly be that he was… worried about you?

He shakes his head. No, of course not. You’re nothing more than a target, a meat shield for if and when things go wrong. He didn’t have any feelings towards you, and certainly not enough to worry.

Astarion stays awake. Not for you, of course— perish the thought— he just wanted to get more reading done. Obviously.

Another hour passes.

Then one more.

Still nothing.

He’s coursing with anxious energy now and gets to his feet. What if you’d been turned into a mindflayer? What would that mean for the rest of them? Because of course it was his own well-being he was concerned for— definitely not yours!

He goes to the tent nearest to him, Lae’zel’s, and shakes her awake.

She grunts and sits up. “Chk, what is it Astarion? Why have you disturbed me?”

“[Name] still hasn’t returned, and dawn’s almost here,” he answers. His voice is a little shaky, but it’s probably because he’s a bit cold. “We should try to find them.”

Lae’zel nods curtly and begins to rise. She slings her sword over her back and says to Astarion, “Wake the others. If [Name] has become ghaik, we will need to put them down.”

A knot forms in his stomach as he turns to rouse the others. He finds himself hoping you haven’t been transformed— then quickly catches himself and buries the feeling.

He wakes them and explains the situation, and the group splits off into pairs to search for you; Wyll and Karlach, Shadowheart and Gale, Lae’zel and Astarion.

One would think someone with your supposed illness would be leaving… traces. But there’s nothing. It was almost like you’d just vanished— until Karlach had found your clothes. There was no blood on them, no damage, no filth (at least no more than usual).

The search continues.

Dawn isn’t far. Just a little longer.

As Astarion and Lae’zel scout together, he catches a whiff of blood in the distance. Animal blood, certainly. But it seems like… a lot. He notifies Lae’zel and they follow the scent, only to come across a mauled boar carcass. It’s practically been reduced to a puddle with how much carnage was heaved upon it, and what’s more…

There’s massive paw prints in the dirt. Soaked in the blood of the boar. Could this creature have hunted you? Is that why you never returned?

They alert the others and follow the tracks, along the way finding great claw marks in the trunks of the trees, various piles of viscera from unfortunate beasts, and small patches of fur. Fur the exact same colour as your hair…

The tracks lead to a small clearing in the forest, and in the middle of said clearing is… you.

Well, not you-you, but the hunkering direwolf-humanoid you turned into.

You’re crouched down, curled into a ball as your mind rends itself in twain. As dawn approaches, so too do your senses begin to return, but the wolf is not ready to relinquish control — it never is. The two of you battle for dominance in a silent struggle, ignorant to the group surrounding you from the trees.

Your werewolf self is a grotesque, fearsome thing, even as you’re lurching in pain. Your fur is an exact match of your natural hair colour, as are your eyes, even though in this form they’re clouded in rage and hunger. If you were stood upright, they’d see how you reached just over nine feet tall, how your hands and paws were lined with razor-sharp claws. Even as pathetic as you are in your current state, you’re still no creature to be trifled with.

Shadowheart steels herself as Lae’zel raises her sword high, prepared to strike you while you’re distracted.

“Abomination,” she spits, venom heavy on her tongue. “Lurk in these woods no longer, you die by my hand.”

She brings the blade down in a wide crescent motion, and you barely move out of the way in time. She’s managed to cut you, but you’re lucky to have missed the brunt of the attack.

You leap away from Lae’zel only to move into Karlach’s range of attack. She strikes you with her battleaxe and you roar as it slices into the skin of your back. Your wound quickly heals, and you spin around to swing a clawed hand in her direction. Your fist meets her side, and she’s flung feet away.

The group— your group— begins their surprisingly well-orchestrated assault, and it becomes clear that, as strong as you are, you cannot hold out for long. Not against all of them. Probably not even against half of them.

But the gods sometimes grant small mercies. The sun finally breaks, the Dawnlord’s radiance has weakened the wolf’s chokehold on you, and you stumble backwards. Your body begins to rapidly decay and break apart, and the others step back and watch the spectacle cautiously.

In less than a minute, the vicious wolf you were has become naught but gore, and underneath is your naked body, soaked in blood.

“What the fuck— [Name]?! I’m not seeing things am I? Tell me I’m not seeing things!” Karlach exclaims, suddenly overcome with guilt at having tried to kill you.

Gale watches in resignation as you limp, holding your beaten and broken body. “You’re not. That’s our [Name], alright. A lycanthrope... What a shock.” Because of course the group can’t have one normal person, can it?

Astarion is simultaneously the most and least surprised at this revelation. “So you’re telling me this entire time I’ve been sleeping with a werewolf? Ugh, there’s a joke about giving a dog a bone in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to think of it.”

You collapse, exhaustion claiming your mind after a long, blood-filled night.

When you awake a couple hours later, you find you’re tucked in your bedroll, wounds tended to and dressed once again. How did you get here, you wonder? You leave your tent to find your friends waiting around in a circle by the long-dead fire.

Astarion’s the first to notice you. “Ah, darling, you’re finally awake! I don’t suppose you’d be up for a little chat, would you? I believe we’re owed an explanation.”

You freeze. An explanation for what? Did they find you and take you back here? Do they know what you are?

You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“After everything we’ve been through, travelling together these last few weeks, I’d have thought we developed enough trust between us. But apparently not.” Gale pauses, then looks you in the eyes. “Why did you hide what you are from us?”

“This fuckin’ world is so fucked up,” you say, folding your arms and scrunching your face. “We got two people with bombs in their chests and a guy who drinks blood but because I turn into a rabid dog once a month I’m the bad guy, really?”

“We’re not saying you’re a bad guy, we’re wondering why you didn’t trust us!” Karlach protests. “We’re supposed to be friends aren’t we?”

You frown a little and slump your shoulders. “We are friends. But we’re already dealing with sooo much bullshit I just thought it’d be better if I dealt with it myself, y’know. I mean it’s not like you can help me with it anyway, cures are hard to find and lycanthropy isn’t as bad as tadpoles and orbs and devils.”

“I’m fine with your condition [Name], so long as you don’t transform in front of me, that is,” Shadowheart chimes. “But aside from that… that wolf form seemed quite formidable. Perhaps we can make use of it, now that we know.”

Astarion claps his hands excitedly. “Oh yes! I’d love to see that! Werewolves can be quite vicious you know, always good fun to see the hounds on a hunt.”

Shadowheart turns to him. “You’re not mad that your lover’s a werewolf, Astarion? I’d have thought you’d be more upset, as a vampire and all.”

He rests a hand on his hip and half heartedly inspects his nails. “Oh please, werewolves and vampires are just as likely to be allies as they are to be enemies. Cazador has had so many wolf pets over the years, I suppose it was only a matter of time until I got my own.”

“You’ve got it ass-backwards Astarion, if anything you’re my pet vampire,” you tease.

“How dare you! Here I thought puppies were supposed to be cute and obedient,” he cries in mock offence.

“Says the one who gets on all fours for a dog—”

Gale clears his throat loudly and claps his hands. “Ahem! Alright, now that that’s settled, I hope there won’t be anymore surprise revelations about the members of our group. Gods know we have more than enough of them to last a lifetime. Shall we get on? We have a long day ahead.”

It’s of a great relief to you that they didn’t ask too many questions, though you somehow suspect you’ll be telling them the humiliating story of your infection someday soon. In such a short time, you’ve grown fond of your new friends, and even fonder for a certain vampire…

And you’re sure you have a long, long road ahead of you yet.

#my posts #reader insert #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldurs gate iii fanfic #astarion x mc #astarion x you #one shot #baldurs gate iii oneshot #gender neutral reader #werewolf x vampire #vampire x werewolf #METAL AGAINST METAL #can u guys tell how much i love bg3 and these lil goofballs?

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deunmiu-dessie · 6 months

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innocent!commoner reader who diligently gathers berries in the forest every day for the village children. innocent!commoner reader who happens to stumble upon a wounded soul along their customary route through the woods. innocent!commoner reader whose pure heart and selfless nature guides them to tend to him. innocent!commoner reader who prattles to the unconscious man every day when they check up on him. innocent!commoner reader who ought to be frightened of the monstrous being. innocent!commoner reader who should've just left him there. ˙◠˙

injured!minotaur who wakes up to the sight of a tiny human nestled at his hip, sleep. injured!minotaur who accidentally startles you awake with a pained rumble. injured!minotaur who thanks you begrudgingly for tending to his injuries. injured!minotaur who gradually becomes accustomed to your presence and your chatter as the days pass while he waits for a full recovery. injured!minotaur who finds your naivety cute. injured!minotaur who suddenly finds himself wanting to corrupt you in every possible way. injured!minotaur who mischievously tells you that the only way for him to get better is by using your body. injured!minotaur who forcefully removes your clothing despite your whiny protests. injured!minotaur who promises he'll be all better after using your tiny human hole. injured!minotaur who groans as you willingly part your legs for him, with wide, innocent, tear-filled eyes. "i-if you're sure it'll help." ˙ᵕ˙

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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 years

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The Werewolf’s Bitch

Yandere Male Werewolf x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, breeding, knotting, inhuman genitals, reader eaten out, drool, piss marking, watersports, scent marking, lycanthropy, reader bitten by werewolf at end, smut, kidnapping, reader briefly stalked, general yandere behavior, yandere bully, bullied reader) Word Count: 4.4k (Sorry that this is being reposted, I needed to edit the story and tumblr would not let me until I just deleted the whole thing, anyway, I worked extremely hard of this so I could hurry up and do more commissions, I am panicking because the window for cool season planting is nearly upon us. I normally would NOT rush to post a fic in the same day that I already posted one. I know the watersports is not everyone’s thing, but it has been a while since I wrote a fic with that kink and when I asked reader’s whether or not I should I got only positive responses, so I hope some people like this)

You were a librarian, you had always had a penchant for books, an obsession really, and you loved reading many different kinds. Right now you were reading The Bartimaeus Trilogy by Jonathan Stroud, it was a fantasy series. It didn’t matter whether or not you liked the fantasy genre, your friend who was not super into reading kept recommending the series to you so you had to give it a shot. You were enjoying the light breeze and gentle sunshine towards the back of the park, in a lightly wooded area where the park gradually shifted into a forest. Leisurely, you continued to read until the sun just began to set. Little did you know someone was watching you from the trees. Axle hadn’t seen you in years, though it wasn’t uncommon for his thoughts to drift to you. He had a serious crush on you in high school, but so worried about his image he had not wanted to date the nerd so he bullied you instead. Relentlessly. He often thought what if he had been sweeter on you and more up front about his feelings, he’d probably have his arms wrapped around you and his cock buried deep inside you. Axle still would have picked on you, of course, it was how he showed affection and dominance, but it wouldn’t have been nearly cruel and relentless as it had been. And he would have been really sweet to you at times too, since he was sure little nerdy bookworms liked that kinda shit. His life wasn’t all bad though, he had been “afflicted” with lycanthropy. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the legends and folklore made it seem, for most people. Most were not feral and could freely change forms whenever they wished, from human, to wolf, and to the bulky hybrid form that most people thought of when they heard the word “werewolf.” There were exceptions though, some people did go feral in their wolf forms and change unwillingly during full moons. An encounter with one such creature was what had passed on the magical gift to him. Now his life was free, he lurked the woods for prey, hunted and then cooked what he had caught in a large cave he had claimed as his den. The lifestyle suited him, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, but it was a lonely existence and he wished he had a mate. Axle had been walking around, contemplating what he could do to get some friends or maybe even a lover when suddenly his nose, now hypersensitive even in his human form, picked up a familiar scent. One that he had not smelled in years but nevertheless one that he would be able to place anywhere. He had stolen whiffs of you while having you in headlocks and pushing you into lockers, had deeply inhaled the aroma of your underwear after sneaking into the locker room and stealing them whenever he was sure he wouldn’t get caught. So when he caught your wonderful smell in the breeze he bolted towards it. Just to watch, he thought to himself. And he did just watch, for a while. His eyes drank in your sight as the golden afternoon sun illuminated you so perfectly. Still such a fucking bookworm, reading all the way out here. The more he looked at you the tighter his pants got, would it really be such a bad thing if he just took you away? He could steal all the books you could want if that made you happy. You’d look so cute reading by the fire before he impaled you on his dick. It wasn’t like you could get away from him, even without his new found abilities he was faster and stronger than you could ever hope to be, but now that he was supernaturally imbued there was no chance you could ever get away from him. If you screamed it was okay, there were no witnesses around for the abduction and when he was fucking you back in his den there would be no one around for miles. He readjusted his cock in his torn jeans, fully erect at the thought. He talked himself into it. It wasn’t that hard, this may be his chance to have the future with you he had missed out on previously. You started to get up to leave, placing the book you had been reading into your backpack with the rest of your books that you planned to get through. Suddenly someone rushed out from the trees and snatched your backpack before you could put it on, running with it deeper into the forest. All you could see was their back as they ran off. Axle made sure not to run too fast because he knew you would chase him without thinking to get your precious books. “Please stop! Please! There’s nothing in there other than books! Please!” You screamed and chased the figure deep into the forest, until a chill ran through you as you looked around. You no longer recognized where you were and it was getting ever darker. Axle could have just used force to bring you this far, but he was enjoying playing with you like he used to. Just as you began to turn around and give up on the figure before you he turned around and was on you in an instant.

You recognized him immediately as you saw his face before he put his arm around your neck and licked up your neck creepily. You’d never forget who those mischievous eyes, cruel smirk, snake bite piercings and spiky punk style blond hair that was shaved at the sides belonged to.

“A-Axle!? What the heck!? Let go! Wh-what do you want with me,” your voice was filled with fear and your eyes began to water, threatening to cry. “Well, you were in my neighborhood and I thought we could catch up~” You kept struggling in his grip, but you were winded from the chase earlier. What he said made no sense, there were no nearby homes, but you were a bit too busy to really contemplate his words. You punch and kicked at him but he just laughed like he had just heard the most hilarious joke, it would have been very insulting if being in a dark forest being manhandled by your old bully wasn’t so terrifying. Axle moved his arm around your neck then ruffled your hair, something about the gesture made you think he wasn’t out to just kill you. But then he gripped your arm tighter and started dragging you deeper into the woods. Your writhing and struggles to free yourself from his iron grasp did nothing to slow him down in the least. There was still a long way to go though, and instead of dragging you and hurting your much more delicate arms he hoisted you into his arms and slung you over his shoulder before starting to run at a speed not normal for a human. This also had the added benefit of scaring you and making you cry those adorable tears of yours. You kicked and screamed the whole time he held you, but the only thing you managed to accomplish was a severely sore throat and further exhaustion. In only a few short minutes Axle covered quite a distance with you. Not tired or out of breath at all despite the speed he ran at or the fact that he was carrying an entire adult on his shoulders. When he arrived at the cave he sat you down on a large bundle of stolen pillows, coats, blankets, and other soft materials. “W-where are we? Wh-why did you bring me here,” you asked almost unintelligibly through the hoarseness of your voice and the fear causing you to stammer. The fear you felt actually tugged a tiny bit at Axle’s heart, he just wanted to teasingly scare you, not make you all terrified. Poor little wimp. His little wimp, he thought, feeling a bit fluttery. Axle sat down beside you and roughly pulled you into his lap before caressing your arm and holding you close, in a manner he thought may be comforting. “What are you d-d-doing!? I don’t like this!” You were, understandably, immensely uncomfortable. Your former bully had his hands all over you. Did he think this was a hilarious prank? And why did he live in a cave? Was he a serial killer that lived in the woods in search of victims?? With each question your heartbeat increased. Axle could hear your heartbeat. Still so sweet and fearful, just like you always had been~ But he didn’t want you to only associate him with fear and have a heart attack every time he held you. “Shhh, babe, shhh. It’s alright. I promise I won’t hurt you okay? I’ll keep you nice and safe~” Apparently he was not tactful enough to realize that licking and sucking at your oh so sensitive neck, was not very soothing to you. When you thrashed more and not less he got the memo and just held you close instead. There would be time for other stuff later. Right now holding you was enough, drinking in your scent like it was booze, and it was almost more intoxicating. He laid down on his side and pulled a very confused and scared you close to him once more, his arms hugging you tightly as if clinging to a life preserver. While Axle had never slept better than that night with you in his arms you stayed up until sheer exhaustion forced you into a troubled sleep. And when he woke he was so happy, he had half been worried everything had been a dream but no, you were really in his arms like you should have been for all these years. Axle wanted you to be awake so he determined that the most prudent way to wake you up was to pinch your ass. Much to his satisfaction, you woke up easily with a startled yelp, almost jolting off of the bedding. You were confused for a moment as your brain scrambled to remember where the fuck you were and why the fuck you were there instead of at home in your comfortable and familiar bed. And what had just assaulted your butt? Then the memories of the night before smacked into you like a brick wall. Axle. He had kidnapped you and spooned you all night for some unknown reason. Probably some sick prank, if he was just going to beat you up and murder you he would have done that already right? Not say all that stuff trying to comfort you before sleeping by you. Axle pulled you close and once again drew his tongue slowly up your cheek, like it was some sort of odd kiss, it creeped you out but you didn’t say anything opting instead to flinch away at his touch. “Oh come on, don’t be such a pussy, I haven’t hurt you,” he said smirking, obviously enjoying the bit of fear he caused from such a small action. “A-are you ever going to tell me why the hell you made me come here?” “What? I haven’t made you cum yet! Hahaha, I will later though.” You rolled your eyes at his juvenile joke but he just stared at you with a hungry look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m serious! Wh-why am I here, this is insane and illegal! I-I’m leaving!” You started to walk towards the path that led to the cave entrance, but Axle growled in such an animal-like and primal way while stepping forward to block your path that it frightened you into remaining still. “You’re not leaving okay, nerd? You want to know why you’re here? Well it’s so I can fuck you silly and have someone to spend time with. I’m your boyfriend and you’re my property. So sit down, read your little books by the fire, and get settled because I am going to go get us some food and when I come back we are going to eat then we are going to go at it like rabbits.” You stared at him with eyes wide, now more paralyzed than ever with fear and utter bewilderment. He couldn’t be serious could he? You didn’t want that at all, this is the piece of shit that made your entire middle and high school years an absolute horror to get through. During your stunned silence he walked up to you and kissed you quickly on the lips before rushing out of the cave to search for some food. Was he stupid on top of absolutely bat shit crazy? Did he really think you were just going to stay here to be raped by him? Did he actually believe that you would be totally okay with being abducted by your former bully and you would be so enamored with him that not only would you let him put his dick anywhere you but you would also let him be your boyfriend?? Obviously that was not going to fucking happen in any way, shape, form, or fashion. You gave him a few minutes to get far away and then you gathered your bag of reading materials and headed out of the cave that Axle called home. It was too easy, luckily you remembered the general direction back to the park and began on your merry way, running as fast as your feet could carry you. Axle, though, was not really stupid. He may have been a bit of an impulsive hothead and a brute, but he was not without some intelligence. He figured you would almost certainly try to escape while he was out and about and he kept his hunt somewhat near the cave, and down wind from it. Once you left the shelter the wind quickly carried your scent right to his powerful nose. He could smell you so clearly and immediately made a beeline for your precise location. You had thought things were going well, you had put significant distance between you and the cave and were sure he would not be able to catch up to you. But you heard some rustling through the grass and a snap of twigs. You turned around and saw him coming right for you with unholy speed, Axle. Somehow he managed to close the distance between the two of you much faster than should have been possible before lunging and tackling you to the forest floor. This time you didn’t even bother struggling once he had a hold of you. Once more he slung you over his shoulder, smirking this time as you went limp, that was good. At the very least you were learning you could not fight him. Now you only had to learn you couldn’t run either. He wasn’t worried, you were a nerd after all, you would learn quickly. Before you knew it you were back in the cave, he placed you carefully on the rocky floor. You looked at him curiously wondering what he was going to do to you. He responded only with a shit eating grin. He began trying to take off your pants and clothes, and you struggled as much as you could. Which disappointed him, he thought you would have realized that he could always over power you, he had always been able to. Axle let out another beastly growl and that seemed to get the message across, this was happening. As he undid his belt you began to fear the worst, you were sitting naked below him as he was about to whip out his dick, what else could you expect to happen? You began to cry and plead for him not to rape you. He used his belt to tie up your arms before he pulled his pants down slightly. You stared at him as he stood before you with his prick aimed directly at you. Before you could figure out what he was doing he unleashed a hot stream piss all over your naked body. The smell was pungent and you gagged a bit as some of the fluid found its way into your mouth, he must have been holding it for a while because he completely drenched you. Axle had a devilish grin. “This should help remind you of your place. You are my little bitch got it? The scent will make it much easier to smell you and keep anyone else away. And I doubt you will try to scurry off without clothes.” Your abductor laughed maniacally as he emptied your books out on the table and took the bag. He placed all your clothing in it before slinging it around his back. “Be a good little weakling and wait here. Not that you have a choice,” he said as he departed. Axle made a mental note to scent mark you like that regularly, you covered in his scent made him almost lose control and breed you right then and there. But you both needed food, you were a fragile little thing he desperately wanted to take good care of and keep healthy and you would both need your energy for the all night fuck fest he had planned. Back on the floor of the cavern you were defeated, your face wet with tears and piss. You reeked of him and the fluid was becoming dry and sticky in places. This wasn’t fair, what had you done to deserve this. You never bothered anyone, you were a sweet person who just wanted to be lost in their books. You lay on that floor, stiff, stinking, and sticky for what felt like hours until Axle returned, but in reality he had only been gone around fifty or so minutes. He sauntered in with a hand that held a bundle of dead rabbits, and another hand full of foraged vegetables, fruits, and nuts. You wondered how he had caught anything. He did not seem to have any weapons or traps around. “Ah, there’s my good little bitch, I see you stayed in place for me.” Axle took his haul of food into another room of the cavern, presumably a larder or kitchen of some sort, before coming back and tending to you. He undid the belt binding your arms and was about to clean you up, but something about you stopped him. He paused and took a moment to just stare at you, so obedient, so drenched in his scent, so good for him. A perfect little mate. And a perfect mate needed to be bred and marked in the most permanent manner possible. Forgetting his plans to feed the both of you and then go at it later that night sniffed at you and let out a low growl. He needed to mate his bitch. Now. You were limp as a rag doll as he picked you up and put you in the pile of bedding material, despite the gross “scent marking” that he had applied to you not even being rinsed off yet. You felt Axle’s warm tongue carefully licking at your crotch, occasionally he broke away to kiss your soft thighs. His strong hands roamed every inch of your flesh that they could reach. He was like an animal as he began lapping at your entrance, stretching you out and getting you ready for mating. When his tongue slid into you it finally elicited a response and broke you out of your catatonic state. You tried to push him away to no avail, though he did take a moment to look up at all the commotion. As you looked at him you realized he almost seemed a bit larger than he was earlier, and had he always had that stubble, you could have swore that he had been clean shaven. Not that you had been in the best emotional state to make such careful observations. But then you saw a change made before your very eyes, and there was no denying it. His previously brown eyes had turned a fierce glowing yellow and as drool pooled and dripped at the corners of his mouth his teeth grew longer and sharper. Now you were really scared, more terrified than you had been since your kidnapping, what was this beast? Meanwhile Axle was running almost entirely on instinct, he had a vague sense of self but his impulses were simply too strong for him to ignore. The more you struggled the more he felt the unbearable need to prove himself to you. You were denying him as his mate so he had to show you how strong and capable he was, he had to be the mightiest he could be so you would be happy with him and have no doubts who the strongest man for you was. No doubt who owned you. He continued to transform into a full blown werewolf right before your very eyes. His clothing tore away as they were ripped apart by the muscles bulging out beneath, thick blonde fur covered every inch of his body, claws grew from his nails, you could see glimpses of a tail swinging strongly behind him and his ears grew longer. His erect cock became canine like in nature and his musky nuts sung below, full of potent seed to fill you with. You screamed in terror and tried to kick him away but the beast that was formerly Axle would not allow itself to be denied. Had to mate you. Had to prove himself as a good partner. Had to show you he was powerful, could keep you safe. You tried to kick him away but this only cemented in his mind the absolute need to subdue you and yew his. During his shift into his strongest form you had managed to scoot away from him, he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you back towards him, you tried to grab at anything you could to stop him, futilely throwing pillows and blankets at him in a last ditch hail Mary attempt to get away, but it was as hopeless as all your other attempts. When he had you under him he forced you into a mating press and shoved his hard cock to the hilt inside of your drool slickened hole. Once he was deep inside he let loose another wave of piss. Had to mark your insides as his property. Had to. Needed to make sure no one else thought about using his property. His mate. His. After Axle had once again marked you with his urine he began slowly thrusting in and out of you. But he quickly got tired of the pace, werewolves were not exactly known for restraint, especially when so deeply under the spell of their instincts. You yelped as he painfully shoved himself in and out of your quickly sore hole. Precum, drool, and piss leaked out of you and down his shaft and balls as he bred you, his huge nut sack slapping your ass with every thrust. Luckily you had been so well lubed by all of his fluids or else you would have been in extreme pain. You were ashamed to admit it but your body was betraying you and the railing you were receiving from this barely human monster was beginning to feel amazing. His knot was slowly swelling within you, creating delicious friction as it rubbed against your inner walls. But interrupting any climax you were making your way towards was Axle as he nuzzled your neck with his wet nose before aggressive licking and nipping at it. But he did not stop there, he had to mark you, make you his mate, claim you in every way, you’d look even more beautiful wearing his claim. So without hesitation or forethought for the consequences of turning you into a werewolf, he bit down at the nape of your neck. Hard. You cried out in a startled shock as he licked away the blood from your fresh wound. He had to comfort his mate. Had to. He didn’t stop licking until your tears lessened and you seemed relatively calm. The entire time he was biting you though he was still fucking you at a moderate pace, and he finally came to the beautiful sound of your overstimulated cries and whimpers. You were so good for him. Perfect fragile little bitch made to be filled up full of his seed and protected by him. You felt a growing pressure inside of you as his knot reached full size, binding the two of you together, and his cock throbbed deep within you as it shot rope after rope of warm semen. You had not gotten your climax yet though, and he couldn’t accept that, you had taken his so so well, you had been such a good mate, the perfect breeding bitch, you even took his mark and everything. Even if it wasn’t by choice. You deserved to feel pleasure. So Axle rocked his hard knot back and forth inside you, as much as he could move it with it at the size that it was, and slowly coaxed an orgasm from your hot mess of a body. He stopped when he felt it and heard you moan and whimper loudly, your voice full of pleasure. After achieving his goal of pumping his wimpy bookworm full he finally regained clarity of mind and his instincts lost their grip on his actions. He realized what he had done and was a bit embarrassed he had lost control like that. He had planned to very slowly ease you into the truth about being a werewolf. Still, he couldn’t argue with the results, you passed out under him from all the sensations he had brought to you, and him on top of you with his cock tight and snug within your hot depths. He was not in the least worried about you being a werewolf, it would only make you more dependent on him, you did not know the first thing about being one. And if you ever did escape he could always overpower you. He was stronger than you when you were both humans and he would remain stronger than you in any form. You would always be Axle’s bitch.

#yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere werewolf #yandere monster #monster boyfriend #werewolf boyfriend #male werewolf x gender neutral reader #male yandere x gender neutral reader #werewolf x reader #My OCs #My OC Axle #yandere boyfriend #yandere bully #gender neutral reader

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