#satyr reader

Also their hoovsies...

✨ a satyr getting their guts absolutely rearranged by nymphs ✨

Anon, I love this, I do, and I can understand why you like it so much.

But I also just am a fan of the inversion of gender-bound myths, like hell yeah, make those forest spirits men! Let them slut it up in those rivers and forests!

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The revelry had wound down for the evening, people choosing naps and feasting over the jubilant music and dancing of the afternoon, groups of other satyr gathered around enjoying the food and each other's company as you sigh feeling an unfortunate sticky patch on one of your legs, the usually soft fur matted with spilled wine you wanted to clean away before the party started up again. Waving yourself off from the group of others you were with, walking slowly out of the gardens and towards the small creek nearby, looking forward to the cool water and cleaning off the unfortunate waste of wine.

Garden stones give way to grass and giggling couples, tucked under trees or napping off their overindulgence with a chosen partner, some even mid tryst wave at you, offering to join them as they continue to revel.

You had other plans in mind, not that some of the couples that offered and coyly tried to get you to join them weren't tempting, but the sticky feeling of your fur was becoming itchy; a good wash would definitely help get you back into the mood to party some more.

Disappearing through the treeline, you begin stripping off what little you have on as you set your sights on the creek, folding your meager clothing and leaving them on a rock as you step into the water, sighing happily as you let the water rush across your legs, the chill makes your tail twitch as you walk a little deeper enjoying the current as it flows around you. Perhaps one or two of those couples would join you here? It's just wide enough for a group of two or three, and the fresh water meant you could get a little messy.

Engrossed with your thoughts and the rereading water, you hardly noticed when more bodies had joined you in the water, creatures made of the woods around you, having watched as you washed up, as the cold creek water made your nipples pebble and the cute little flicks of your tail, they'd thought it sweet how you played and washed in their little creek, trees bending to block the way out as they treaded the water towards you.

Bleating with surprise as bark rough hands encircled your waist, horns being grabbed by another as you splash and flail slightly in surprise. The laughter from the nymphs makes you still, pouting as you realise what has snuck up on you, bleating weakly as you splash at the one still holding your horns like handles.

You've met plenty of nymphs at gathering in forests, at lakes, or in ponds, but these don't giggle and sing at you, they snicker, and one rubs at the base of your horns, making you keen like a needy thing, tails flicking wildly against the moss covered stomach of the one behind you, being leaned forward and made to brace your hooves in the mud of the creek as your guided into position.

Scrambling to grab at the lookalike hips of the nymph in front of you, whining as the one behind pinches the fur at the base of your tail, cooing about how cute the little creature they have caught is, rough fingertips tugging into your thighs as they make you spread your legs, eyeing up what lies between with sharp smiles.

They share a look, and the nymph holding your horns tilts your head up, looking you in the eye and sweetly asking if you want to play a little with them as payment for bathing in their creek? Nothing you won't enjoy, they promise, laughing as they add that it wasn't anything you had already done or planned to do that evening. Nymphs' magics are different from those like you; it's a blink and you miss it kind of change. Pressed to your lips is a cock, dribbling thick, sweet nectar that leaves your lips sticky and begs you to clean up the mess it leaves behind.

A swipe of your tongue across your lips teases the tip of the nymph's cock, filling your mouth with syrupy sweetness.

You arrive at a cool but cozy library, each section decorated according to its theme. At the entrance sits an exhausted-looking librarian.

“Oh? Why, hello dear. Let me guess - looking for a story fitting the occasion? A lot has already been checked out, but I’m sure you’ll find something just right!”

(I feel the need to mention that this year's Pride stories are Greek mythology-themed but take place in their own universe—particularly within my yandere and monster-ridden world.) I'm only prettyfor myself and you. - Scylla X Siren F!Reader

Pour us another cup - Dionysus X Satyr M!Reader

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