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#breeding cw in the tags!!!
pinkkittysaw · 7 months
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not sure if anyone cares, but incase anyone wanted visuals for werewolf!clive in his full wolf form, i based him off of black wolves ^_^ with his eyes being more of an azure blue rather than yellow
anddddd since he’s a werewolf of my imagination his size is similar to that of the extinct epicyon haydeni (images below the cut)
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rinneverse · 8 days
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Boothill….ougurrr….fucking you as if he’ll get you pregnant….
hey. when i catch you. this has been plaguing my mind ever since i saw the notif for it. mdni / nsfw content ahead. f!reader. mentions of breeding n’ pregnancy.
Boothill knows better.
He knows that it’s entirely impossible—that he doesn’t even have that capability anymore—but every day spent with you he yearns for it more and more.
The thought of seeing you pregnant with his child plagued his mind every single night.
It’s especially apparent in the way he fucks you: slow, deep strokes, pressing his metallic body right up against the flesh of your heated skin, fucking into you with a purpose, no matter if that purpose would be fruitless in the end.
“Sugar,” Boothill groans into your ear, sharp teeth nipping at your lobe. “You’re killin’ me here—fuck—grippin’ me so tight.. it’s like you don’t wan’ me to ever pull out.”
Your fingers press into metallic shoulders as his synthetic cock hits that spongy spot inside of you, a delighted mewl falling from your lips as he mouths sloppily down the slope of your neck.
“Feels s’good,” you whine back, legs wrapping tight around his waist. “Baby, Boothill, please.”
He nearly snarls with an animalistic heat as his name falls from your lips, an angelic plea that he never wants to stop hearing. His hips snap harder, pace growing more ruthless, and your song grows more and more desperate as he brings you closer to climax.
“Never w’nna stop pounding this sweet pussy—mmh, yeah—I wanna put a baby in ya, w’nna make sure you’re nice n’ full..!”
He can feel his sensory receptors working into overdrive as he fucks into you, icy metallic fingertips gripping your hips so tightly that there’s no chance of you escaping him even as you squeal and flutter around him.
“Wait!” you cry. Pretty silvery tears of pleasure line your lashes, threatening to spill over down your cheeks. “T’much, slow down, g’nna cum, wait..!”
Boothill ignores your pleas, snapping his hips with a new fervor as he angles his cock to hit that perfect little spot inside you. He wants you to cum, and he wants you to cum hard.
“You like that idea, huh?” Boothill goads you. “The idea of bein’ pumped full of my kids? Yeaaah, you’re clenchin’ so tight around me. C’mon sugar, cum, I know you can.”
Boothill has never wished for something more as you cum around his cock with a cry. He’s never longed for his humanity more—the ability to empty his load inside your convulsing heat, to make you a mother, to see you so round and full of his kids.
In another life, perhaps, the two of you start a happy family together. One where this dream of his can come true.
For this one, he’ll just settle for making you cum until you’re seeing stars.
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tired-biscuit · 3 months
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anyways, sukuna manhandling you with all four arms at once.
two are used to hold your wrists pinned above your head, and the other two for spreading your legs wide open to the point of pain; rough fingers digging into the opposing softness of your thighs as he gets ready to fill both of your holes at the same time and making you moan like the obedient little servant you are for him.
and if you’re especially good, perhaps he’ll consider cumming inside you this time instead of spilling his warm release all over your stomach — which he doesn’t allow to get round with his offspring.
but only perhaps.
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fushigurro · 3 months
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guys who start absolutely begging for you to let them get you pregnant...........
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messiahzzz · 6 months
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thank you sm for the ask!! 💕 i’m glad you enjoy my posts and it is not a strange request by any means!
note: this is merely my read on gale’s sexual preferences/kinks. i don’t want to police anyone on their headcanons or claim they are “incorrect”. since the game doesn’t provide too much detail, many things remain up to interpretation. (and lest we forget fanfiction has always encouraged the exploration of dynamics that may not be present in canon.)
gale is a character who isn’t interested in walking the straight and narrow route. he is all about new experiences, favoring non-traditional means, putting his own spin on things, and the thrill of seeking the forbidden. the sheer romance of the uncharted and the unknown. he is enthusiastic in almost every aspect and possesses an infectious zest for life. in regards to his sexual preferences, this translates into an eagerness to explore, witness new sensations, and reach new heights together. while approaching the topic of sexuality with a generally playful, adventurous attitude.
if you’re looking for harder kinks, however — i don’t believe gale is the character for you. and in case it needs to be said again: there is nothing wrong with being vanilla.
initially, i see gale as a switch, who gravitates more towards assuming a dominant role, due to his ever-present desire to give and to impress. i do think he enjoys giving up control, yet you still have to actively convince him to let himself go and be spoiled for once. his first focus will always be to fulfill his partner's needs and drown them in his all-encompassing love and adoration. i also believe that gale will grow more comfortable with being the center of attention, once their relationship has reached a point of total security (and he had ample opportunities to show in just how many ways he can wow them). gale is not a strict dom, nor a sub. in his ideal relationship roles would be discarded entirely, deeming them too restrictive in his expression of intimacy with a trusted partner. it’s all about variety and ridding oneself of the shackles of the worldly, after all. melting into one perfect whole, not knowing where he ends and his partner begins.
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gale: we are all sensual vessels. illusory magic lets us sail farther, and feel more deeply.
gale: [..] i could use the weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning.
based on what we know about gale, these could be some of his kinks:
lots of praise (this is non-negotiable), sensation/temperature play (waxplay, electrostimulation/all the many perks magic has to offer), sensory deprivation, light restrictions and bondage, the occasional roleplay, katoptronophilia (self-explanatory), altered mental-states (hypnosis, psychedelics), orgasm control & denial, body worship, olfactophilia and given his propensity towards verbosity: narratophilia and some very inventive dirty talk. as for my own self-indulgent take: due to the recurring emphasis on hands during his romance, as well as his being the main tool in how he shapes and navigates the world: quirofilia.
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nodecontext: flustered, standing in front of his romance partner in bondage gear. not necessarily uncomfortable with the bondage aspect, just trying to stay focused.
now, what are gale’s hard-limits?
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gale, after the player received loviatar's blessing: your hide, your choice. not quite my cup of tea though.
while projecting your own kinks and fantasies onto fictional characters is fine and well, disregarding and ignoring the source material (and the character's stated boundaries) is another matter entirely. fanon!gale is rather ooc and very different from his canon portrayal, which is something that tends to irk me. although this remains a common fandom phenomenon.
personally, i don’t see gale as someone who enjoys pain of any kind, be it giving or receiving (with the exception of spanking and light choking, if a certain mood strikes. although it is kept mostly playful). contrary to what fandom may claim, having self-worth issues, being loquacious, emotionally expressive, and vulnerability-seeking (as well as being commonly perceived as arrogant and insufferable) doesn't automatically equal having repressed masochistic tendencies. he could be convinced to dip a toe into sadism, but only upon his partner’s insistence. although i doubt he himself would find enjoyment in that.
the same applies to degradation/humiliation. i doubt that a character who is still very much struggling with inherent self-worth issues and a general feeling of being defective/not worthy would derive sexual gratification from being degraded. yes, it can certainly be healing for some, but gale doesn’t strike me as someone who would find particular enjoyment in that. quite the contrary, actually. nor would he like to do the degrading for that matter (he would vehemently refuse. all he wants to do is sing your praises.) gale wouldn’t enjoy being leashed and/or collared in any way either. the prospect of being tied up or restricted is rather intriguing, cause it serves to center one’s vulnerability while also allowing for more intense sensations. anything that taps into the puppy play/slave territory tho? he would find it demeaning… and, quite frankly, silly.
gale is also not a voyeur, nor a cuck. the entire scene with the drow twins leans way too much into dub-con territory for my tastes. the only way you can get him to participate at all is by rolling a persuasion check with DC 25. in every other dialogue option, he immediately (and explicitly) declines. even if you do manage to pass the persuasion check, he is still very hesitant about participating.
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gale: i might enjoy watching you tangled up with the drow, as long as i was five paces back.
he then immediately runs from the room, because sending a simulacrum in his place was the only way to somewhat remove himself from the situation while still being able to please tav. because of course he wants to please and clearly this is important to tav so he might just… have to discard his reservations and... just go through with it?!
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gale: well i suppose it would do no good to back out now. let us begin this little anthropological study, if we must.
i am aware that fandom uses the fact that his “orb lit up in telltale excitement” as a justification that persuading him was the right choice, as well as confirmation that he was secretly into it and “just needed a little push" to explore his desires/get out of his comfort zone. that implication alone is very suspect and goes straight into the sort of logic abusers often use. you can be physically aroused by certain scenes, images, or sounds, even while being visibly uncomfortable with the presented scenario. it is a natural response that you can’t often control. which is what he is showing throughout the entire scene: discomfort. he was coerced into this situation, without any prior discussion or an opportunity to talk about his boundaries. furthermore, this is what he has to say if you approach him after the threesome:
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gale: ahem. i hope you're not here to ask about our recent, erm, activities. i'd rather those were consigned to the footnotes of our romance, if it's all the same with you.
since he is strictly monogamous, any arrangement involving another person is also a no. he made this rather clear when tav sought him out after receiving halsin's proposal. him being monogamous isn't solely rooted in his trauma, it isn't something he has to “overcome” in order to heal, nor does it mean that their relationship is any less fulfilling. call him greedy, stubborn, or old-fashioned, but he cannot comfortably agree to that.
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van1llam1lkk · 5 months
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[ nsfw | CW ; Degradation, Cowgirl, Handjob → Blowjob(giving), Brief mention of penile spines, Rut/heat concept, Coercion, Dubcon because of Coercion]
Kitty!Hybrid x F!Darling
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Your eyes slightly burned from how long you've been forcing yourself to keep watch on the TV. Desperately trying to ignore the cat boy that's been practically screeching in your ear for the past three hours, your already thin patience running thinner.
“Master~” He whined, dragging the vowels out “Please give me a chance, just— Just one time I promise.” He pleaded, nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck.
You softly groan in response, shifting in the couch as you tried to create some sense of personal space- His warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.
“You don't even know what you want, all that stupid cat brain of yours is thinking is just ‘Breeding breeding breeding’ you bluntly say, flicking his forehead. Earning a soft ‘ow’ from him.
He pouted, crawling onto your lap and straddling your waist. Taking your lack of action against him as an invitation to kiss at your neck. “If m’ brain is screaming at me to fuck you till your pumped full of kittens then there must be a good reason.” He purred softly.
And while he was getting on your nerves- you make no move to push him off you, if anything you pull him closer. Wrapping a arm around his waist and absentmindedly playing with the dark brown tail poking out of the hole you made for all his pants.
“I'm going to get you neutered.” You huffed, shifting your legs so it was more comfortable supporting his weight.
A little whimper spills from his lips grinding his pelvis against you. “You say that but y'know you love how pliant I get— just begging for your attention constantly instead of telling you to fuck off.” He purred, canines grazing the nape of your neck.
You shiver in spite of yourself, hand lightly tugging at the waistband of his pants. “If you’re so desperate for a fuck you can fuck your hand.” You huffed, leaning your head back to look at him.
He doesn't miss a beat, immediately nipping at the skin of your neck, then as if making up for it places soft kisses along your jawline.
“I could fuck yours.” He purred, licking at the shell of your ear. You roll your eyes in response, holding his hips still so he's not obviously grinding against your thighs anymore.
“And if I gave you a hand job that's just gonna magically solve our problem?” You snicker, the way his body tensed at the comment going unnoticed by you, hair —and you suppose fur as well— bristling at the comment.
“And if it did..?”
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Pearly white pre-cum leaked from the tip as you jerked him off, the paced movement of your hand gathering slick and glossing the base. Wet ‘plaps’ everytime your hand reached his pelvis.
“Your so needy.” You whispered, voice filled with more pity then anything else.
Though you doubt he heard you, with the needy moans and high pitched whines spilling from his lips. Head thrown back against the couch and hips rutting up, desperately seeking that simulation he oh so desired.
“F—fuck- your hand, so *so* soft.” he sobbed, claws digging into the couch. Your thumb plays with his tip, gathering the cum and messily spreading it around. Leaning in close you press a soft kiss against his length, savouring the — taste of his pre and the whimpery whine he let out.
“Warm— Oh your lips so w-warm.” He panted, his hand reaching up to your head, pushing your lips —with as much restraint he could— back to his cock, hips bucking forward and messily fucking into your face- half the time not even making it into your mouth and instead thrusting against your cheek, pre-cum and spit covering your face.
Nn—no— not yet I'm gonna c-cum—” He sobbed, wanting to drag the experience of your warm mouth and soft hands around his throbbing cock, so nicely licking up and down and bobbing your head along with the rough, filthy paste he set.
And sure enough a few more sucks on his swollen tip and the boy was crying out, shoving your head down till your nose was pushed up against black pubes.
Hips rutting up into your mouth, warm ropes of cum spilling into your throat. Broken moans escaping him from the way your throat squeezed and spasmed, desperate a break.
But even with limited oxygen you kept going, despite how his body tensed, swallowing his cum to the best of your ability without gagging. Pulling off of his cock with a wet ‘pop!’ Heavily panting,
Your mind was foggy, gasping for air as you wipe your face off. “F-fuck… Jesus Christ- are you happy now? Because this is the last time that I'm doing something like this for you.” you huff.
He didn't respond- or more so he couldn't hear you, lost in a daze and completely empty-mindedness.
Gathering what little composure he had he hummed, shifting in place awkwardly and rubbing his thighs together. "You looked so pretty on y're knees, like a proper bitch." He weakly laughed, as if a second ago he wasn't crying from the warmth of your throat.
"... M' balls still feel so heavy though." He whined, ears flattening against his head. A little pout on his lips. "I'm not giving you head again, you don't know when to give me a break." You immediately say, shooting the idea down.
"You could always just,, ride me." He him, glancing to the side. "I mean, I wouldn't doubt it if that pussy of yours was wet from just sucking my dick." He continues, nudging a foot against your crotch.
A shiver runs up your spine, a little huff leaving you. Staring off to the side for a moment considering whether or not to accept his offer.
Begrudgingly, you crawl up onto the couch, kicking your pants off in the process and settling yourself on top of him. Grinding your pussy against his already semi-hard cock, coating it in a new sheen of slick your hips slightly rutting forward whenever you rubbed up against a spine.
Entangling your fingers in his hair you position your hips so the tip pressed taut against your hole. A little whimper escaping you as you slowly let your weight drop down, savouring the way little breathless whimpers escaped him.
When he finally bottomed out you slowly rocked your hips, mostly letting him set the tempo because of how tightly his claws were digging into your waist. Lifting you up and down to meet his hips the only thing covering the sound of skin against skin being his almost annoyingly loud moans and whimpers -- "Fuck— your so tight Mfh- m' gonna breed that dumb cunt— make you my p-personal breeding bitch." He sobbed out, not even bothering to move your hips anymore— instead keeping it firmly planted against his thrusting hips.
You'd feel annoyed by the comment if his pathetic whines weren't so damn arousing. "I'd like to see you try." You hissed through gritted teeth, tightening your grip in his hair and banging your hips down against his.
Dipping your head down you lick at his ear and bite down on the cartilage. "F-fuck, you really want to ruin my body don't you?" You whisper through breathy moans, grinding your pussy against his cock to the best of your ability.
A little hum escapes him, his mind too busy focusing on the gooey warmth that he's fucking into to actually care about what your saying— couch creaking with your rough movements.
You needily grind your hips against him, reaching a hand in between where the two of you connected to play clumsily with the sensitive bud of nerves. Trying to make the increasingly tight knot in your stomach finally pop,
Claw marks left on your waist as he tugged you forward. Breathless, high-pitched moans whispered into your ear. "M... m' gonna cum— gonna cum in that slutty, tight pussy-" He moans out, his thrusts growing erratic and a desperate.
You could feel it, that final little push that had your body tensing and shuddering in pleasure. Squeezing his cock for all its worth.
And following suit your clenching walls trying to milk him pushed him right over the edge, his hips with one last thrust stilling inside of you, able to feel his twitching cock- the feeling of his cum slowly filing your insides a foreign sensation. Leaving the two of you a panting mess, connected by the frothing of cum, spit, and slick.
Slowly you lift your hips up, internally cringing at the feeling of cum spilling out of your hole. "S-shit... You Came a lot." You softly panted plopping yourself down right next to him, less worried about the possible stains and more so about whether you should go shower or sleep first.
Grunting slightly he lifts his head up, a tired look in his eyes as he rubs the back of his neck. "You... I'm sure you'll just clean it up." He mumbled out, sitting up on the couch properly and looking around. "Speaking of, you should really buy those pills" He causally reminded you, poking a finger in your face.
"It's irresponsible, who knows what my happen during my next rut?" He added on.
As if he wasn't the one whose been harassing you for three hours to have sex.
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divine-misfortune · 1 month
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void...void what the fuck
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elaborate
Well I dunno...
Phantom would be so desperate, too needy to even think about teasing. Honestly, if not for Swiss having a hand on the situation, he'd have just tugged his pants down and fucked him dry but of course Swiss isn't thinking entirely with his dick, only a little.
Snaps his teeth at Phantom and growls when he moves to touch him without permission, and poor Phantom sits there practically shaking like a leaf watching Swiss finger himself open. At least Swiss is nice enough to pet the spade of his tail over the underside of his cock, just to hold him over.
Think that Phantom begs to mount him properly when Swiss finally lets him crawl closer. Mouth dry, voice soft with an oddly innocent quality as he says it, and when Swiss asks why, well - "I want to make sure it takes, so nothing can drip out. You need to take all of it." and if that doesn't make Swiss' dick throb almost painfully...
Phantom pops that ruddy little head into him and nearly cries. Swiss might've prepped himself some, but not much, Phantom's cock wasn't big by any means and he wanted to be tight around him still. He just has to press in to the hilt, has to feel Swiss wrapped around every inch of him, and he's panting by the time their hips are flush.
Brain gone fuzzy with need he almost gets lost in it, Swiss has to give a little wriggle back against him to bring him to earth again. Has to remind Phantom "if you wanna breed me, gotta fuck it into me baby" and that's what sets him off.
Phantom's only upright for a few minutes, eventually he's folded over Swiss' back just barely pulling out to press back in. He never wants to leave the tight heat of his body, wants to live in this mind numbing bliss for the rest of his days. His claws rake little welts into Swiss' soft hips, and he'll feel a little bad about it later, but he can't seem to pull Swiss back to meet his thrusts hard enough.
Sooner or later the tears come, wet against his shoulder blade, Phantom weeps and begs and pleads as his knot starts to get pudgy. Barely catching but enough they can both feel it. Enough that Swiss is starting to unravel.
"Fuck - fuck, hells. Swiss, Swiss, please." He'd warble once his knot gets thick enough it truly tugs when he tries to pull out. "Gotta. Gotta let me. Tell me I can, need you to - tell me to breed you."
Honestly he can't even keep his voice level anymore, not when Phantom's hammering into him, pressing against that sweet spot that sends his brain offline. All he can manage is a string of yes's panted out into the sheets.
"T-Thank you, oh Belial. S'gonna be so good, you're gonna get so full with my litter. Keep you on my knot till you do, make you mine, change you, oh fuck Swiss I'm gonna-"
"Give it to me, shit, puppy - make me your bitch."
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themidnightghoul · 2 months
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Movie Night
Dew wants to braid Phantom’s hair for completely innocent reasons. Phantom is excited to watch the new scary movie they’ve been wanting to see and letting Dew play with their hair. Dew absolutely does not have an ulterior motive whatsoever and they watch a movie together. That’s all.
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2341 CW: Breeding talk
Authors Note: This started off as a ficlet when @forest-rot said something about braiding hair and I got an idea. Then it evolved into…this. And by very pretty request, @sexy-sea-basss here is what I was working on, sweetheart 😘
Read below or on AO3 (coming soon)!
“You wanna braid my hair?” Phantom tilted their head, confused. Dew had to exhibit a ridiculous amount of control not to throw the little Quint over his shoulder and lock them in his room for a week. Something about their innocence just absolutely wrecked Dew and it drove him insane when they did things like tilt their head like that.
“Yeah, just, you know, if you want.” Dew shrugged, stammered his way through his words. He couldn’t think of an easy way to explain exactly why he wanted to braid their hair. At the moment, he genuinely did just want to play with their hair, run his fingers through the numerous layers. He loved the stark white chunk at the front, a beautiful contrast to the inky black and shimmery purple of the rest of their hair. He loved the way the layers that Aurora had cut into it curled after they washed it. He loved holding on to it as he-
“I’d love that, Dewy. Can we do it in my room? We can watch this new horror movie I’ve been waiting to see!” Phantom’s eyes lit up and Dew felt his heart flutter. Phantom was just so fucking cute and it drove him crazy.
“Sure, Baby Bat.” They stood from the sofa and made their way to Phantom’s room, the little Bug excitedly rambling on about the movie they wanted to watch. All Dew could think about was what he wanted to do after he braided their hair and he had to shift his walk a few times, trying to hide a different kind of excitement than the one Phantom currently had.
When they stepped in to Phantom’s room, they immediately flipped on their LED strip lights, changing the color to a dim purple color, and hopped on the bed, grabbing the TV remote and looking for whatever movie it was they wanted to watch. “Come, sit.” They tapped the spot next to them and Dew felt his stomach flip. Something in the way they said that just…did something to him.
Dew sat and immediately pulled them back into his lap. His fingers pulled through the strands to dislodge any tangles, rubbed gently over his scalp. The movie started, something about a haunted pool, and Phantom leaned back into Dew, a soft purr kicking up in their chest the more relaxed they got. Dew had gotten quite good at braiding, having practiced on himself for when he needed it up during shows and no one was able to help him, and he was able to work fairly quickly most of the time. But with Phantom, he slowed himself down, allowed himself to take his time and make sure they were nice and relaxed, their focus more on the movie than Dew.
One braid in and Phantom’s purring had gotten louder. Occasionally, they would jump a little at a particularly loud part of the movie and Dew would chuckle, gently rubbing their back and kissing the top of their head until they settled again. When he finished the second braid and tied it off, he put his arms around them and just held them as they watched the movie together. He tried to focus, really he did, but all he could think about was tugging on the now finished braids and how beautiful the sounds that they would make would be when he did. Thankfully, it seemed like they were too focused on the movie to notice Dew shifting around in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his increasingly aching cock. The more he thought about it, the worse it got. Eventually, Dew began to play with Phantom’s hands, kissing his way down from the top of their head to their face. Phantom’s purrs became soft whines, torn between wanting to watch the movie and focusing on Dew.
“Just watch the movie, Bug,” Dew whispered in their ear, gently nipping their earlobe and chuckling when they shifted their body against him in search of more contact. “Such a good boy, aren’t you?” He ran his hands up and down their chest, sliding under their shirt and dragging his claws across their skin, smiling at their full body shiver as he touched them.
“Off, please Dew,” they whined, raising their arms for Dew to remove their shirt. 
He couldn’t help but groan at how easy they were making this as he slid off the shirt and threw it to the side. Slowly, he kissed and nipped his way down their neck, biting just enough at their shoulder to leave a mark, and shifted his way to their front. He propped himself up on his arms and kissed each of the scars on their chest, let his tongue trace the beautiful white patches that decorated their body. “Like my own personal galaxy, you are.” He kept his focus on Phantom’s reactions to his attention and how desperately they tried to remain focused on the movie. “Doing such a good job. You enjoying the movie?”
Phantom whined louder, their hands running up and down Dew’s back. “Dewey I can’t-“
“Good boys watch the movie like they were told to do,” he whispered against their chest and reached up to tug on one of the braids, chuckling when they arched their body against him. Their response to the tug gave Dew an idea and he sat up, moving back behind them and tapping their back. “Lean forward, on all fours.”
Phantom immediately sat up and leaned forward on their arms, their tail flicking around excitedly. Dew drug his claws down their back, reveling in the way their skin broke out in goosebumps where he touched. He tugged down their sweatpants and boxers, dragging his claws the rest of the way down the curve of their ass, over their beautiful thighs that he leaned in and nipped at, causing Phantom to let out the sweetest moan. He sat up and used one hand to trail up the scratch marks on their back, the other sliding between their legs and loudly groaning at how wet they were.
“Someone’s excited, hmm?” He slowly moved his fingers through their folds, chuckling at how easily they writhed under his touch.
They tried to push back onto his fingers and he immediately withdrew, tutting disappointedly when they whined. “Dewy please.” Their voice was so sweet, so needy, and it sent Dew’s mind into a frenzy. He almost gave in right then and there, if he was being honest with himself.
“Tell me what’s going on in the movie like a good Bug and I’ll give you what you want.” He let his hand hover back where they wanted it most, leaving featherlight touches across their skin with one hand and kneading their thigh with the other. Their frustration was palpable and it only served to drive him more insane with need. He moved his hands away and popped the button on his jeans, pulling them down just enough to relieve the pressure on his aching cock. When that wasn’t enough, he grunted in frustration and pulled himself out fully, giving himself a few lazy strokes.
“Something is in the water…” they whined, their legs shaking as they tried to hold still. “The dad is s-sick, fuck Dew please.” They turned around to look back at Dew with tears in their eyes and when Dew pulled his hand away and licked the slick he had gathered on his fingers off, Phantom fell face first into the bed and whined so loud Dew was sure their throat would hurt.
Dew reached down and grabbed both braids, tugging on them to pull their head back. “Ah ah, you’re not hiding those beautiful sounds, Baby Bat. I want to hear every noise you make, you understand?” 
Phantom’s body sagged a bit and they let out another whine. “Yes, yes Dew, please will you touch me again? I need it so much.”
He let go of one of the braids and brought his hand to their mouth. “Spit.” Immediately, they spit into his hand and he swore he could feel their excitement pulsing through the air. “Such an eager little Bug aren’t you? Fuck you’re so cute.” He ran his spit covered hand up and down his length, hissing at the feeling, and slowly guided it to Phantom’s entrance. Running it up and down their slick covered folds, he tugged on the braid he still had in his hand. “Color, baby?”
“Green green green, please Dew I’m so green.” 
Chuckling, he tugged once again. “Good boy, using your words for me.” He pushed the head of his cock against them and left it there for a moment, testing the little Quint’s resolve. When they didn’t move, even though Dew could tell they were desperate to push back, he finally slid in with a loud groan that he was sure the entire den would be able to hear. “Fuck, baby, how are you so wet already? I’ve barely even touched you.”
Phantom could only make unintelligible noises in response. Dew knew that praise was one of the things that they got off on the most and he couldn’t help but take advantage of them already being most of the way to being fucked completely stupid. He gripped their hip hard enough to bruise with one hand and slowly started moving, gathering both braids in the other hand in order to keep them from falling into the bed as he slid in and out of his sweet little Ghoul.
“Satanas you’re taking me so well, such a-agh- such a good fucking boy, aren’t you?” He could feel the familiar coil in his abdomen tightening, faster than he wanted it to, but he couldn’t bring himself to slow down. “So fucking tight, baby. Fuck you’re so-” Phantom clenched and Dew saw stars, his head falling back as a wanton moan escaped his lips. The control he normally exerted had slipped and he couldn’t stop himself from pounding relentlessly into them, his movements getting harder and faster the more he let himself go. He could feel his knot beginning to swell as he fucked into Phantom and by the sounds they made, they could feel the base of it pressing against them.
“D-dew I’m c-close please-“ a high pitched moan filled the room as Dew nailed the sweet spot inside of Phantom and he could tell that they were about to completely fall apart. The swell of pride that rushed through Dew’s body knowing that he was the one to make them feel this way had him slamming his hips against the whimpering Quint even harder.
“That’s it, baby. Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He tugged on their braids again, his other hand smacking down on their ass hard enough to leave a mark. “You gonna come for me, Starshine?”
Phantom could only whine and nod as they shifted their hips the slightest bit to get Dew to hit the same spot again. “Y-yes!”
“That’s right, good boy, come on my cock. You can do it, baby.” 
“Knot…please…” Phantom’s words were slurred but they were begging so sweetly and how was Dew supposed to deny them when they asked so politely?
“You want to take my knot, baby? Want me to fill you up until you’re leaking all around my cock?” He snapped his hips forward, his knot swelling even more at the idea of being locked inside of his pretty Quint. “Fill you up so good-“ he grunted, pushing a little more and pulling a soundless scream from their lips. “See if you catch, yeah?” Dew ran his hand down their hip to their stomach, pulling them up until their back was against his chest. “Want to see this belly full of my kits. Would you like that, baby? Want to carry my kits for me?”
Dew felt Phantom clench one final time before they came with a shout, his name on their lips. As they shuddered, Dew worked them through their orgasm, holding them up as their legs shook. He pulled the shaking Ghoul down on to his knot as it finally popped, locking them together and coming as his hand squeezed their throat. The sensation of filling Phantom was enough to make him come harder than he had in a long time and the idea of them carrying his kits? It had him weakly thrusting against them, desperately trying to keep as much of his come inside as possible.
Slowly, the two Ghouls came back down from their high and Dew lowered the drooling Quint to the bed. He gently brushed their hair out of their face, kissing their cheeks and nuzzling his face against their neck. “You okay, Starshine?” He kept his voice soft and smiled when Phantom started to purr and snuggled back against Dew.
“Never better, Dewey.” They ran their hand across their stomach almost absentmindedly. 
“I can hear that brain working overtime, Baby Bat. Talk to me?” He put his hand over theirs, lacing their fingers together.
“Did you mean it?” It was almost a whisper but Dew knew exactly what they had said.
He was quiet for a moment before he pulled them against him hard and hummed, nodding his head against them. “Yeah, baby, ‘course I did. But only if you wanted me to mean it.” Phantom was snoring softly before Dew had even finished talking. He smiled, rubbed his hand across their stomach again, and laid beside them as he waited for his knot to go down. When he was able to pull himself out, he quickly cleaned up the sleeping Ghoul and put their sweatpants back on, covering them up with their bat blanket. He put their favorite horror movie on and went to clean himself up, returning to the bed and climbing in next to them when he was done.
“Love you, Dewey.” They mumbled, turning to face Dew and nuzzling their face into his chest.
Dew smiled, pressing a kiss to their forehead and holding them close. “I love you, Starshine. Always and forever.”
98 notes · View notes
necros-writing-stuff · 7 months
Text
A Ritual of Blood and Sweat: Collabo'ween Day 11
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AFAB!Reader/M!God (Who he is is a surprise, don't check the tags you'll ruin it).
Warnings: AFAB reader but You is the only pronoun; non-con turned very enthusiastic con; biting and marking; bloodplay; a tad of breeding kink; rumours of cannibalism and incest happening in the world but they're not at all shown; a little bit of angst but its okay, they're alright; predator/prey elements.
Word Count: 4898.
Notes: Sorry again that it was a day late! Also Google docs can suck my dick, the grammar is wrong on purpose stop being blue at me. Also also the god is inspired by Hircine from the Elder Scrolls because I've been back in the lore pit, but it isn't him, just inspired.
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It was the night the clan had been praying for. The crimson moon hung overhead, its bloody rays piercing between even the heaviest of foliage and bathing the world in its colour. The Hunt was upon them. 
People all around the encampment were energised by the happenstance; drums beating in tune to the Wise Crone's song; red paint being applied in intricate patterns on all of those who would be running through the trees; those who would stay behind preparing a huge firepit to cook what was caught; the children running and screaming or dancing to the music. 
And then there was you. Your woven basket knocked against your hip as you wandered through the camp, weaving through the crowds and responding to the blessed words that would be uttered to you by the rest of the Crones with their falcon-feathered brushes. It was your own great aunt who met you at the edge of camp, brushing your face, hands and the tops of your feet to afford you luck as you stepped into the night. 
She couldn't let you leave without receiving your own painted blessing. The red dye was made up of the blood from the mightiest of beasts the hunters had brought down this year, its colour kept by the berries it was mixed with and the consistency by a clay found on the banks of the White River. Two swirls on your cheeks to bless your eyes, so that you might never miss what you seek. Two more on the back of your hands so that your strength never leaves you. The final two swirls on the tops of your feet so that your pathing remains sure. Your people weren't the only ones hunting tonight. The blessings ensured safety. 
The Father of the Hunt would watch over you as you foraged for the mushrooms his crimson moon sprouted. Your duty was a sacred one. As the youngest trainee of the Crones, still virginal due to your devotion, it was you who would find the mushrooms and bring them back for the feast that would take place at dawn. For every hunter who made it back, the mushrooms granted further strength and cunning to hunt through the year. For those who remained it provided innovation and wisdom, to guide the clan to prosperity. For the little ones it warded against sickness, so that they may reach adulthood. 
The final marking was made on your chest, right in the centre. An arrow, the Father's arrow. So that your heart would stay as true as his aim. Only you would receive this mark tonight. You see, it was a test as well as an honour. In order to progress in your training, your faith would need to be confirmed. Your love for the god who made your people who they are had to be strong. To prove that you'd decided the path of Crone not to avoid marriage, pregnancy, hunting, crafting or any other duty you were relieved of. Should you succeed and ascend, the arrow would be tattooed onto your chest permanently. 
It made you curious how she then pressed her hand to your stomach, leaving a bloody handprint on your skin. "A family blessing," she'd explained, "kept only for first trials as Crones." 
You know the truth of your faith. It is as full as the moon overhead and it keeps your head held high as you step into the forest. The commotion of the clan fades the further you go, but the smile gracing your lips never wanes. Why would it when you knew exactly where to go to find the mushrooms? It was as though the Father himself guided your steps - and perhaps he was. The hunters hadn't left quite yet. He had time to nudge you in the right direction while he also gave strength to the beasts of the forest. 
Bears. Wolves. Boars. Very angry badgers. Foxes. Very… virulent bucks. Just a small list of things to watch out for as you travel. The Father was a fair god. What use was there in making hunts easy? In making them easy, the clan would become weak. Prey had to fight back in some way. His worshippers had to prove their worth by virtue of strength, fleetness or intelligence. That way, the next generation would be even better. 
You are no exception to these tests. While you know where to go, you would have to make yourself scarce. The same beasts your clansman sought would hunt you tonight. 
Weasel. That's what the clan called trainees of your stock. Little weasels. Because you had to be the most cunning of all to survive. Should you succeed, they'd begin calling you a fox. And when you stopped bleeding every moon, you'd be represented by an owl. Wise in your old age. The hunters had such monikers themselves, as did the other folk but their names were more flora based. For the prey you ate and the bounty of the forest you made your clothes, homes, tools and sacred items from were just as important to honour as the Father himself. 
With everything bathed in red, the forest appeared so alien. Shapes blended together, odd shadows being cast as your ears listened for the slightest indication that a beast had found your scent. A branch cracking, or the soft patters of paws on the ground. You could only hear your own footprints and your own breathing for now. Not even an owl hooting in the night. The poor owl didn't do so well during the crimson moon. Its prey was able to see it coming better due to how bright the moon made the night. Hence why the Crones that honoured the creature left skinned rodents hanging from the trees so that they would not go hungry. 
Your solitude was broken by the rushing of the White River. Its rapids were deafening the closer you got, but at this distance it was a gentle hum in the background. A comfort, letting you know exactly where you were and where to go. An ancient grove, with trees older than your people's songs. It was on the rotting bark of the fallen trees that you'd find the mushrooms. You were sure of it. 
By now the hunt would be underway. Spears and bows would bring down many beasts this night. Claws and fangs would see the end for hunters that were unworthy. And yourself, should the Father find you to be lacklustre. It wouldn't be wise to sing and draw attention to yourself, but in your head you heard it. The song of worship you sang for him, detailing his achievements and tales. It kept your bones warm as a gust of wind whooshed past. 
It couldn't keep your hackles from rising when you felt the eyes on your back. 
Something had found you, but you couldn't judge what. You saw no creature when you surveyed the forest. No tracks left by it, either. That didn't stop the feeling from growing evermore the closer you got to the ancient grove. 
A test, you reminded yourself. The Father was simply prodding at your nerves, seeing if you'd run back home like a coward. You wouldn't. You'd take everything he would throw your way. Even as an arrow sailed by your head and landed in a tree to your right. An arrow from a bow who's string you hadn't heard twang. 
Your steps quickened, body going from tree to tree to break up the line of sight of whoever sought you out. Other clans lived in these woods. While your people were friendly with many, trading not only goods but healthy people of breeding age to keep the blood-pools strong, some clans were expelled from the larger community. Cannibal clans, the rumours spoke. Or those who were headed by a single male, breeding with his own spawn and treating them like slaves. Both were outlawed under the Father's guidance. 
No doubt it was one of those cannibals seeking your flesh right now - wishing to feast on you in mockery of your devotion to your god. If only they could understand how He would not allow that. 
Another arrow thunked into a tree, this one many steps behind you. A poor shot, but again you heard no bowstring. An impossibility. No bow, no matter how well crafted, could be completely silent when the arrow was released. It kept the hunt fair, so that a deer could have one last moment to avoid their incoming doom. Had dark spirits granted this hunter a weapon born of their evil? They'd given it to the wrong bearer if they were this bad of a marksman. 
Blessed by the Father, your body danced through the forest, your feet never tripping despite the fear in your heart. His song remained in your mind, quelling every urge to run home and forget the mushrooms. The other clan's weasels would be meeting you at the grove, together you'd have the strength to bring down this cannibal. To let their blood feed the trees that resided there. 
Another arrow, closer this time. Barely missing your leg, sticking in the ground with such force that it broke in two. No bowstring sang. It was too late, though. You'd found where you were looking for. 
Taller and taller the trees became, thicker in body until they were so large a clan could hollow one out and live inside. One clan used to, its remains right in the centre of the grove. That clan is gone now. No one knew why. But it was their home you sprinted to, prancing over the rocks in the clear spring pool that surrounded it. Right in the middle it stood proud, still growing and flowering despite the emptiness of its core. 
The mushrooms were indeed growing on fallen logs as you rushed past, but they'd have to wait until you could harvest them in peace.
Scrambling inside, your hands gripped the carved bark so that you could climb to a higher floor and wait for your cannibal to come after you. You could drop down on them from above, could pierce their neck with the bear-bone dagger you unclasped from your belt. Your basket was left behind, bait to draw the cannibal closer. 
No other weasel had made it here yet. You were early, a point that filled you with pride. The Father truly did favour you tonight. 
You found a ledge hidden in shadow. Everywhere else in the forest, you could not escape the red light of the moon. This ancient tree was the one exception, as though it was imbued with magic that kept it from even the Father's sight. Perhaps another spirit was worshipped here. Perhaps the clan died out because they did not see the wisdom of the Father. Apt that your cannibal would join them. 
Shivers danced along your skin as you waited, knife clutched tightly as your eyes carefully watched over the entrance. Silence returned to the night, a curious companion for the anticipation that bubbled within. 
They did not come. Not for what felt like hours. Your fingers fatigued in their grip, your legs begging for you to move as they grew numb from being still for so long. A smart cannibal, then. They knew you were waiting. They knew a fight would come should they step foot in the tree. You had patience, though. You would wait. 
Even when the scream pierced the air, you did not move. A horrific scream, likely that of another weasel who had fallen to the wretched cannibal. They were not worthy to complete their ascent. Nor was the next you heard wailing for the Father to save them. 
Their mistakes would not be your own. They felt safe here, surrounded by the sacred mushrooms. They forgot that the Father granted no breaks. You would wait until the first crack of dawn if you had to. You'd go home with the smallest bounty. Everyone knew that surviving was the true goal. 
What use was a Crone if they could not apply His wisdom practically, as well as in spirit? How would they guide the people with only thoughts that lacked experience? It was a marvellous test, indeed. The smartest hunter sent to make the smartest Crones. 
Something you were not, apparently. A heartbreaking realisation that sank like a blade in your heart as a real blade pressed to your neck. 
"Here you are," a deep voice rang by your ear. "I didn't think one so devout would tread in this place. Everyone else fears it." 
Your cannibal urged you to stand, still keeping his knife to your throat as you struggled to your feet on weary legs. They ached dearly from your stillness, those lightening-like pricks fluttering through your skin. You should have moved just a little to keep them strong. 
How had he gotten behind you? There was only one way into the tree. Had the same dark spirits that had granted his bow given him other gifts? 
Your knife was taken from you easily despite how tightly you held on. His strength was far greater than your own. Your mother had made you that blade. She made the basket that it was tossed into, too. The basket that would be left there, no mushrooms filling it. 
"You're the only one left, little weasel. Your cousins all fell. A bad stock this year, hm?" 
'What a boar's ass,' you thought. Gloating in his depravity, amused that he was the superior hunter despite his banishment from His favour. Such a wretched man, indeed.
"It isn't honourable to play with your prey. Slit my throat and have it be over. I'll be with the Father in his hunting realm." You hoped. Dearly, you hoped that He wouldn't cast you aside for falling prey to this man. 
Tears pricked at your eyes, water welling further when your cannibal laughed. His forehead pressed to the back of your skull, a deep sniff cutting off his joy as his free hand came to press to your belly. Right against your familial mark. Right against your aunt's blessing. His hand was so much larger, eclipsing the paint and your hope along with it. 
"You're already with the Father, little weasel." 
That hand tore at your furs, hiking them up your thighs and diving between your legs to violate your core. A thick finger plunged into your cunt as you screamed in frustration, pulling at his blade hand with all of your might. 
More laughter. More mocking as he willingly took the blade away and tossed it down to lay with your own. 
"My body belongs to my god!" A wail that betrayed your heartbreak. A wail that was as feral as your fighting, body contorting and flailing as you aimed to kick, hit and scratch whatever you could reach. 
"I know, little weasel. That's why I'm taking it." His smugness refused to subside. What reason would he have to be humble when he so easily kept you in his grip? 
When your head reared back, aiming to smash into his nose, you met only the hard muscles of his chest. He was tall - tall and possessed by the strength of a bear. 
With one arm pressing against your own chest like a fallen tree pinning you to the ground, the cannibal had no issue controlling your body while his fingers corrupted your core. He was like the wind, reaching everywhere and leaving no part untouched. Leaving a chill in your bones where there had once been warmth. 
'I'm still fighting, Father. Please grant me the means to make it home." Would he hear you tonight? Would he grant you your own twang of the bowstring, your own last chance? 
The wet shlucking noises from between your thighs betrayed His answer. He wasn't coming for you. He had left you as he had the other weasels. Your body was no longer deemed as worthy. Your spirit was too weak. 
Bile scoured your throat, not easing the painful burn that had already made its home there from your wailing. Your cannibal had staked his claim with his hands alone. He had brought you a pleasure you were never supposed to feel. One you had forsaken to serve the Father. 
Your cunt grew as wet as your tear-stained cheeks, the fight seeping from your body with every flick your cannibal made over that little button at the top of your cunt. The markings on your cheeks were ruined by your crying. The arrow on your chest smudged by his arm. At least the markings on your feet stayed, keeping you upright instead of collapsing like a frail dry sapling in a storm. 
"You belong to me, little weasel. You always have, and you always will," he whispered before his teeth sank into the flesh of your neck. Such sharp teeth, breaking the skin and marking you in his perversion of the Father's ways. 
When couples would marry, two kisses would be placed on either side of the bride's neck, the locations tattooed by the Wise Crone with the animal that the husband's family held dearest. Then the bride did the same back, and her animal was placed on her husband. From then on, their hair would always be tied up or cut short so that everyone could see their love. 
The animal on your skin was just a beast of a man. 
"You'll always belong to me." A snarled declaration, your blood smeared against your skin where his lips and tongue trailed. 
When he moved you to the floor of the ledge, you expected him to take you from behind like the wild beast that he is. That your knees would scrape against the bark and bleed as your neck does under his brutality. He did not. 
Your back hit the bark as he climbed on top of you; his impossibly strong hands ripping through your furs and throwing them away until you lay bare and frozen. What was there left to fight for? 
The glaze in your eyes made him hazy, his face still a mystery you refused to unravel. Even as he lifted his loincloth, drawing out his cock and coming to press it into you. 
Waiting for it to be done, you let your head fall to the side, finally blinking the tears away. The red rays of the moon still bathed the forest outside. A lone mushroom could be seen just waiting to be plucked on the carcass of a tree. It was the biggest mushroom you'd ever seen. They all would have been so proud if you'd brought it back. 
"Look at me, little weasel. I'd have my bride look at me when I take them." 
You don't. You keep looking at the mushroom, and in your mind your spirit is lifting from your body and reaching out to collect it. 
His hand grips your jaw, pulling your face to his. Your pupils stay locked on to the outside world, locked on to that tiniest slither of hope. What if the hunting party came through the grove? What if someone braved a glance into the ancient tree and saved you from your cannibal? Would the Father let you stay then? 
"Look. At. Me." 
No one was coming. Even if they ventured into the glade, your cannibal was right. Everyone feared the tree. They feared that dark spirits would curse them if they came too close. They must have cursed you tonight. 
You looked. He didn't give you the chance to look away again before he sank deep into your cunt with a single, splitting thrust. It burned like your throat did, only sharper and more painful. The pain couldn't distract you from what you saw. It couldn't stop a song surfacing in your head about the Father. 
Dark hair, left long and wild. Green eyes, that would shine through the brightest light. Sharp fangs, a predator true. Patterns swirling in skin, to hide from view. 
"There we go, little weasel. You see who claims you? You see what your devotion brought?" 
A staggering breath escapes from your lungs as the tears well once more. His hand caresses your stomach again as he leans down to nip at the other side of your neck. You let your head fall back, exposing the skin for him to feel. To place his mark where he would like. 
The pain feels like a gift when he bites, your whimper a thank you when he licks your blood and continues peppering your skin with his affections until his lips meet yours. Such a sweet taste, such a deep, strong bouquet that blesses your taste buds and sends you into a heady spiral.
Where there was once a burn at your core, a throbbing need takes place. Where the energy had drained from your body it came back tenfold, urging your hips to buck against his own. 
"Sweet little one, what do you think this means?" His words are spoken against your mouth before he pulls away, head nodding down to your stomach where the hand print has been smeared all over your skin. 
Your throat catches as you speak. "I- I was told it was a family blessing." 
The Father of the Hunt chuckles, forehead coming to rest against your own as he takes your scent in again. 
"Your aunt always was one for tricks and lies." 
Elaboration is forgone for the thrust of his hips, pulling back and delving deep enough to have your lungs seize working for but a moment. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, the pleasure so great you may just faint. 
"I paid your Wise Crone a visit last night. I told her to place this mark upon your belly so that you'd know what would await you on this Hunt. That you'd come to be my bride." 
His movements continued, stealing your voice from you as you listened to his words. You could barely think, so deep in his spell had you sank. 
"I heard your every prayer. Every poem you dedicated to me, I cherished. Every dance you performed in my name I saw." 
His fingers swiped the blood from your neck, taking the ichor and painting his own blessings on your skin. But there were more symbols, far more intricate than those of your clan or any other. His touch was so warm.
"I've hungered for you since I first saw your beauty on the day your maturity was celebrated. For I knew then that your soul had been reborn." 
Biting into the flesh of his forearm, the Father let his own life force trickle down his arm. It was taken, used to paint more blessings on your belly and over your heart. 
"Reborn?" How difficult it was to speak when he made you soar so high, your back lifting from the bark as you yelled out when his cock pressed forward. Tightly, you held onto his shoulders, needing to feel his warmth to keep you from passing above the clouds. 
With a wave of his palm, the wounds on your neck healed. You could feel how the scars were left when he traced each print of his teeth. There was no need to do so again with his own bite, the openings knitting closed in front of your very eyes. 
"The songs know nothing of this place. Of how I lived here, with you, so long ago. Of how you were taken away from me by jealous spirits, kept from my realm - our realm. But I always knew your soul was too strong to be held forever." 
Kisses come again, desperate and longing. His tongue dances with your own, that lovely taste chasing away the pain you felt in your heart at his tale. 
"My love," he sighs it like a prayer. "The darkness that hides me as I hunt. The moon that guides my way. The very blood that keeps me alive." 
Overwhelmed in the best possible way, your bite down on your lip, surprised to feel the pricks of sharp fangs piercing the flesh. Running your tongue over them, you find that they have somehow changed. That they have somehow become like his. 
Lifting from the bark, you meet him as he comes down again, your legs wrapping around his waist as your own teeth aim for his neck. His blood tastes even better than his tongue, filling your very being with a strength that no mortal ever should experience. You don't wait to mark the other side. You have to do it now, you have to show him the love you feel bursting in your heart. 
The way he moans when you mark him is animalistic, his pace quickening and his grip on your waist harsh. As though you'd slip through his fingers. 
"Say my name, love. You know what it is, please. Please say it." 
No other being would ever hear him plead to them. This, you knew. His softness was for you alone. 
"Please, love. Let me hear it."
The blessings he'd painted into your skin had been absorbed, the forms moving to resemble the camouflaged coats of animals. Just like his. Your truth being restored by his blood.
"Eden," you sob as a wave crashes through your body, your muscles spasming as your cunt clenches down on his cock, wanting to milk him for every drop of seed he'll give. 
Hearing his name spoken for the first time in several lifetimes must have been too much for him, as Eden follows your fall right in the middle of your own. Your name is spoken, it is repeated over and over again as he gives you what you want. 
Still, he moves. Ensuring that every last drop is emptied inside before he stops to peer down at you with those bright, loving eyes. Eyes that say they almost can't believe what they're seeing. 
"I came home." You never wanted to leave it ever again. 
"You came home." He held your palm against his cheek, his eyelashes tickling a finger tip when he blinked. 
The crimson rays of the moon began to creep into the hollow tree, bathing you both in the warmth up on the ledge. You used to keep a shelf of herbs on this ledge. You remember that, as you remember other things. Like the fire you kept below on a bed of rocks, warming your home. How pelts of fur had been draped over the entrance to offer protection against the elements. A few ledges up it led to a grander overlook, where the furs of your bedding had been. 
"You certainly let the place go," you giggle as you look around. 
Eden huffs, holding his body up on his forearms so that he is no longer crushing you. Not that he needs to, you love to feel his weight on you. Your marking bites that you'd left on him are still healing, the new overlapping with old, old scars you'd left in a previous lifetime. 
"Been living out in the forest. Didn't like living here alone." 
With the light, you can see him properly. He's mostly as he was back then, though non-mating scars litter his skin now. One crosses his nose. And his beard has grown quite a bit. He's handsome with his beard. How come he'd never grown it out back then?
"They're from avenging you." 
Humming, you trace each scar, thinking of all of the spirits that had seen to your downfall. How many of them had he killed? How long had he hunted them? How close had he come to joining you? 
How much had you missed?
"Don't think about them, love. They're dealt with. You're safe with me now. We'll get back everything we lost, I promise." 
"Starting with cleaning this place up, I should think." 
Your Eden was always so serious, a grounding force, while you brought the lightness he needed. A perfect balance. 
"And you'll apologise for killing those poor weasels. And give the clans the mushrooms personally. Your sense of mercy has waned in my absence." You finish the sentence with a tap on the tip of his nose. 
Your hunter growls, hiding his face against your chest. "Back for less than a day and you're already whipping me into shape. And I didn't kill the weasels, that was those cannibal twats. Who I did kill." 
"I thought you said you were happy to get back all that we lost? That includes my bossiness, I think. And thank you, for killing the cannibals." 
"Should have killed the one hunting you quicker, but the fucker had these pelts on him that my arrows bounced right off of. Nearly hit you a couple of times thanks to that. Got him in the end, though. Drowned him in the river and sent those cursed pelts down with him." 
Chuckling, you twist Eden's hair between your fingers, carding through the locks with your nails and scratching his scalp until his body melted against your own. Most of his body, that is. One certain part stiffened at your attention - that part still inside of you. 
Eden's head lifts from your chest, his gaze predatory. "The people can wait till the sun rises. You've been worshipping me all these years. Now it's my turn to worship you." 
101 notes · View notes
ghoultrifle · 4 months
Note
cw for menstruation and nsfw
rain and phantom sync up their cycles but only it just ends up with them cuddling each other the entire time. also a lot of getting each other off because it helps the cramps a LOT in rains case and phantom gets horny even easier then he normally does when hes on his period
i am in love with this hc aaahhhhhh there's just something so *chefs kiss* about intimate t4t experiences. a lil ramble (the most i've written in weeks) below the cut. obviously heed the above cws, there's also a cw for breeding kink and note there's mentions of ant's pre-op chest too, but in a sexy way :))
it always starts off as cuddling. phantom will spoon rain so he can lay his hand on rain's stomach and channel just a bit of quintessence to ease the pain. after a while of that, maybe a nap or two, rain will be getting antsy, the quintessence wearing off. he'll slide ant's hand further down until his fingers are resting gently in rain's bush.
once phantom's more awake, he'll catch on and dip further below the band of rain's boxers, taking hold of one very hard and wet tdick (penetration is too much for either of them during these times). it's always lazy, no rush to it, just basking in the pleasure as phantom strokes rain's dick, mouth peppering kisses to his neck, making him squirm. it's so sweet and soft and sappy, they really do love each other. they lose track of time but eventually rain places his hand over the top of ant's and they stroke together with slightly more energy until rain's softly moaning his partner's name and his cramps are easing with the intensity of his orgasm and the rush of endorphins making him smile like an idiot.
and of course once his insatiable rainy is satisfied, ant will start rocking his hips against rain's back. that ghoul may have been cursed with a big chest but he was also blessed with a lot of bottom growth. it bulges out from his boxers and rain can distinctly feel the way it contorts and twitches as ant rubs it against him.
neither of them have the energy to properly take care of anything so ant just continues to get off on the friction rubbing on his sensitive dick while rain throws a hand haphazardly behind him until it lands on ant's chest. he gropes it idly, a nipple occasionally slipping between the pads of his fingers as he pinches and makes ant whine out for more, hips pumping faster. on his period, his chest gets so sensitive and rain knows exactly how to play into it. that's not the only thing phantom goes wild for during this time.
"go on baby, breed me" rain will say, sending phantom immediately into what will be the most intense orgasm until they do this again next month. he pulls both of their boxers down and drags his dick against rain's ever-pert ass, spreading slick against him. ant grabs a hold of rain's hips and fucking breeds him. it's feral, he's feral. for just these few minutes ant can't control himself, just knows he needs to pump rainy full of his kits.
they'll clean up properly later. for now, the emergency sex towel is used to get the worst of it and next time one of them needs to change out their period boxers, they'll get the other up and have an intimate shower together. it won't be sexual, just time for them to map out every inch of each other's bodies. to clean and to relax until they settle in for a night of movies and cuddles.
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fushigurro · 5 months
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thinking about when he's just starting to slip into that subby headspace but still very much wants to breed you...
looking up at you with glassy eyes as he kisses your tummy and asks, "can i give you babies, mommy?" 😵‍💫
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seakicker · 2 years
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okay but what about fertility archon childe and rapid/surprise pregnancy. . . he doesn't even need to physically breed you because just a snap of his fingers is enough to knock you up. but one day when he's masquerading as a human in some no-name travel and he sees you, he simply decides your gonna end up pregnant. the way your apron wraps around your waist and tummy keeps tempting him, giving him ideas how he could make it rounder, more pronounced under the fabric - and the liquor he drank makes him even more mischevious than usual. so he keeps stealing glances at you through the evening as a few ideas began stirring in his head. you're a little ditzy, he notices, because you don't immediately catch on how other patrons try flirting with you, making crude jokes when you approach them to make sure the food and drinks are to their liking. in his mind, he already claimed you when he first looked at you and your gorgeous body - the soft curve of your stomach, or the lovely shape of your hips and the low-cut shirt that slips down dangerously when you move around, busy serving clients and cleaning. but he keeps coming back how he could make you balloon right here, in the middle of a busy shift. everyones eyes would be on you, as you would swell with his children, confused and panicked. he could walk out, making everything your problem, simply leave you in the exact spot you're in right now, maybe moaning in both pain, fear amd arousal his powers ignite in you. or maybe he would offer you a helping hand as your body changed drastically in a span of few minutes, take you to one of the rooms that are avivable for guests. there, he could show you how to appreciate the boon of THE fertility archon.
take two lmao but the concept has me salivating thank you juju for the food 🙏🙏
- 🍀
🍀 YOUR BIG BRAIN STRIKES AGAIN!!!!! GODDDD this is so hot. sudden pregnancy blessed upon you by none other than the archon of fertility himself… truly a blessing indeed ❤️ i like to imagine that when he’s in a horny/mischievous/Evil mood, he just kinda walks down the street and snaps his fingers whenever he comes across a beauty who would look even more perfect with their belly round and big with new life. almost like he’s just…. infecting people or shooting them with a Pregnancy Beam LMAO. he’s just walking by them and boom, they’re pregnant! congratulations on the baby!
and oh, when he lays eyes on you, he’s convinced that there’s nobody on this planet who was made for breeding more than you. he can’t help but imagine what you’d look like with a belly so big and round that apron you’re currently wearing no longer fits you… you’ve just grown too nice and heavy with his babies to secure the ribbon around your waist.
and the sheer humiliation you’d feel in such a scenario shouldn’t be turning him on as much as it is… just think about it! this adorable little waitress swelling up so beautifully in front of everyone as they just watch would be a delicious sight for the archon… and watching you try to make sense of what’s happening will be even better. just a frantic, flustered mess clutching a nearby table for support since your legs don’t feel strong enough to properly carry the weight of your new, heavy belly. he’d just sip his coffee and watch smugly as your shirt rides further up and up your belly as it grows, your tits filling with milk nearly instantly and puffing up over the cups of your bra, cleavage filling out the low neckline of your shirt and straining against the fabric. he swears he can see a peek of your areolas, your bra nearly comically small now from the way your tits have grown nearly 3 cup sizes before his very eyes—and, oh, what’s that? are those stains on your shirt from where your heavy tits have begun to leak milk? how embarrassing!
now childe could get up and leave you alone to enjoy your new, heavily pregnant body all by yourself, relishing in the feeling of a round belly, wide hips, huge tits… love the idea of him sneaking a little mindbreak spell or something in with his instant pregnancies so the people he magically knocks up instantly fall into a breeding slut mindspace where they don’t care who’s staring, they’re just happy to be so nice and round. he could go right now and leave you to continue embarrassing yourself in front of everyone, or he could snatch you up and take you away to a hotel room to enjoy your body with you… who’s to say? both options seem plenty fun!
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van1llam1lkk · 7 months
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Kinktober week 2 — Virgins
[ nsfw | CW ; First time, missionary, praise, body worship, Size difference, mentions of breeding, cream pie, pussy drunk, light overstim, Oral(F receiving), themes of making it fit, cock warming at the end, Dubcon(just in case) ]
Male x Female Reader
a/n ; I've been going through brain rot about sweet ol' virgins with big dicks... which is really the only excuse as to why Fujio exists now.
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wc ; 2.1k
Synopsis — Loosing your virginity to your equally inexperienced big dick boyfriend... That's it.
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Your fingers smooth over the ivory silk, tips tickled by the fine threads, "You don't think it's..." You trail off into a unfinished question eyes flickering over to his.
He stays silent for the most part, gingerly grabbing your hands and stopping them from running over the wrinkles in the fabric in favor of pulling them above your head.
"We can probably still trade it back in—" You continue on, nervously squirming under his intense gaze.
"No... You look pretty in this." He mumbles softly, "And it's only fair to dress you up like a princess, right?" He asked, tilting his head. You hesitantly nod, trying to relax your body.
He looked so pretty from this angle, pinning you against the soft mattress, observant eyes undressing you. It was a little unnerving honesty, Fujio wasn't the type of person to be this... Quiet.
But considering this was your first time, with each other. With him it makes some sense as to how serious he is being.
A soft warm kiss is planted against your temple, letting his weight settle in between your legs. "I can't believe this is all for me." He whispers, a shaky quiver entering his words.
Large hands wonder down your body, playing with frills and squeezing at anything they could get on- Chest, hips, thighs.
A strained whimper escapes your lips as his hands trailed down your body, the soft touch of his fingers as they explored your curves making you shiver.
You swear— with how hard your heart heart is pounding you might have a heart attack.
He leans down, soft lips pressing up against yours. Even with his position you can still feel how anxious he is, carful with every movement as if you you'd break if he made one wrong move.
You lean into the kiss, it's different gentle and passionate. Only familiar to the many nights you two spent grinding against each other eager for one's warmth.
Your hands entangled themselves into his long black hair, lightly tugging on the strands until a soft groan escapes into the kiss.
His hands worm their way in between your thighs teasing your clit beneath the ivory colored silk. Applying only the bare minimum of pressure to get you whimpering into the kiss- whimpers that he greedily eats up.
Eventually he pulls away, panting heavily. Gaze lingering on your face before looking down at your sex where his hand was busy teasing.
Thumb swiping over your sensitive nub. Lust filled eyes admiring how your panties started dampening. "Your so pretty." He breathes out in a sigh, letting his free hand come down to hold your squirming hips still.
You blush, shifting your gaze away from his intense stare in favor of looking at the ceiling. "N-Not as pretty as you." You stammer out, unable to think straight with the how frustrated your getting with the minimal pressure he's using — Enough to have you whimpering and shuddering but nowhere near enough to bring you to the edge.
His thumb continues stroking you, a small smile adorning his lips at how impatient you're getting. "You are." He whispers, leaning down to kiss your form.
Small, light kisses that he placed down against your neck, collar bones, breasts, all of them just a little too close to your chest to be considered "decent".
"Fujio..." You breath out, his last kiss was placed directly on top of your cunt.
"May I?" He hesitantly asks eyes fixated on the twitches of your pussy beneath the damp material.
You bite your lip, hesitating for the briefest of moments before nodding your head.
"Oh, you don't know how long I've been waiting to taste you." He quickly says voice shaky with anticipation, leaning in to give your clit a slow, teasing lick.
A pleasant sigh escapes your lips from the warm sensation of his tongue. Shifting your position so your legs were sat atop his shoulders. The sensation was more pleasant than you thought, his tongue warm and wet with saliva.
Your hands find his way through his hair again, whimpering at his experimental licks and sucks, His eyes staring up at your face to see what made your already faltering composure crumble more.
If your eyes hadn't fluttered shut you could've seen the way his hips seemed to grind against the mattress, chasing some kind of simulation in its tight confines.
It wasn't long until he found a pace, mouth latched onto your pussy— Staining the already wet panties with spit.
" F-fuck Fujio~" You whimpered, already shut eyes squeezing together. "Please— please don't stop." You stammered out, thighs twitching around his head.
He moaned into your pussy, his own hips mindlessly humping into the mattress. Fingers digging into the fat of your hip pulling it deeper into his face.
You swallow thickly, the hand in his hair tightening into a fist while the other grabs at the blankets beneath you.
"Close— m' so close fuck." You warned trying to keep your thighs from squeezing shut and suffocating him.
With a brief moment of hesitation he pulls his mouth off of your cunt, A wet 'pop' sound following.
Your glossy eyes fluttered open, a confused, frustrated whine escaping you as you rub your knees together. Trying to keep that orgasm from slipping away but it had already disappeared.
"M' so sorry baby, I— I just wanna feel you come on m' cock." He panted heavily, shoving his pants down just enough to free his already leaking cock.
"You— you can do that for me right? Yeah, I know you can." He quickly said, his own composure slipping because he finally gets to feel you around him, pussy fluttering and clenching because of him.
Giving himself a few good strokes to smear the pre along his length.
You eyes slightly widen at the size, you're not sure what's different about now compared to the steamy nights you two would hump each other— Maybe because unlike those other times he's actually going to fuck you.
"I don't think it'll fit—" You say under your breath, eyeing the tip. Could he even fit the tip in?
You know it's just the virgins anxiety getting to you, but why did God decide to make his dick look so big?
"It'll fit, I'll make it fit if I have to." He says, leaning down to kiss you again. "I'll just take it slow alright darling?" He adds a moment later.
You hesitantly nod your head, opening your legs so he's able to slot himself in between.
He leans over you, hands slowly reaching up to pull your panties down your legs and You obediently kick them off. Trying to keep your mind off of the heavy thumping of your heart or the increasing anxiety.
It's a little funny seeing his own eyes widening at the sight of your glistening pussy, a smile he's clearly trying to fight off forming onto his face.
"Your so pretty like this." He whispered, placing a hand right next to your head with the other one slapping the tip of his cock against your clit.
Savouring the way your hips tried squirming into the sensation.
He carefully pushes the tip against your entrance. A little frown forming on his face when it slipped past for the third time, a sigh of content leaving him when your own hand goes down and guides his length into you.
Just the head was enough to make you want to weep at the overwhelming feeling of something big inside you.
"Shit—" You cursed, squeezing your tear-filled eyes shut.
"Relax baby" he panted, slowly sinking into you pretty little whimpers and praise spilling from his lips.
He bit at his lips the second he bottomed out, "Fuck, you're so tight-" he whimpered, peppering your face with kisses. "oh I' feel like m' gonna cum already." He slurred out. You can feel him trembling, it's not from coldness but from the effort he's putting into not thrusting his hips.
"Tell- tell me when I can move." He huffed out, holding your hips closely up to his pelvis.
The two of you stay in that position for what felt like eternity, bodies closely pressed up against each other, breathing in each other's heavy pants. "I love you, I love you so much." You whispered wrapping legs around his waist.
"I love you too, I love you so so much— you're perfect, everything I ever could want and more" He rambled trying to stay focused on how pretty you look right now.
Glossy eyes staring lovingly at him, it's enough to have his cock twitching inside of you.
You swallow thickly, running fingers through his hair. Though a part of you wants to stay like this forever— There was a primal part that was starting become overwhelming, focusing on how nicely he stretched you out, how good it must feel when he drags his dick along those gooey, tender spots that has your toes curling and eyes rolling back in pleasure.
And those thoughts are starting to feel more appealing by the second, with a shaky exhale you whisper a meek
"M' ready—" Oh but before you could even let the last word leave your mouth he's already pulling out of you, till only his tip remained in before snapping his hips forward.
Greedy hands holding your hips tightly, to keep you in place as he fucked into you. "Thank— thank you." He says in between pretty gasps and groans, he wasn't even doing anything special. But with how thick he was, it grinded against everything just right, blunt head hitting spots you didn't even knew existed inside of you.
His eyes eagerly fixated on the way he seemed to sink and pull out of you so easily when just a moment ago he needed help getting it inside you in the first place.
"Haaa, please don't stop—" You whined, fingers tightening their grip on the blankets.
You can't tell whether it' feels amazing or agonizing, the way it feels like he's forcing space inside of you- bullying into your pussy with each heavy thrust of his hips.
"Shit oh, I can't— not now don't wanna cum now." He cursed under his breath, leaning his weight into you to fuck deeper.
That was all it took before your brain was short-circuiting, mindless pleas' and babbles spilling from your lips. Legs tightly wrapped around his waist, wanting more.
A shaky hands move over to your clit, rubbing sticky circles and shapes all over it. "Can— Can you cum on my dick for me? I know you can, you'll be a good girl for me right?" He babbled, equally as fucked out as you— which is saying something.
Wet squelching sounds ringing through the air everytime his hips made contact, slick and precum wetting the creaky bed beneath the two of you.
Your eyes fall shut, head lolling to the side. "Fu—fuck, you feel so good." You panted out, unable to form words properly any longer.
"Shit shit shit shit— m' gonna breed you, stuff you full of my cum" Hissing out as his thrusts turn sloppy, sloppy for his standards.
He held your hips in place as he let out a primal grunt, your fluttering hole being filled white with his cum.
Following his orgasm you came undone, the fullness pushing you over the edge as you mindlessly pleaded for more and moaned.
Loud wet slapping sounds resounding through the whole room, thick, sticky pearly whites leaking from his cock and spilling out beneath you, getting onto your thighs with each twitch.
His hips absentmindedly humped into you, fucking his cum deeper into you despite the overwhelming simulation.
"Fuck, I can feel it, I can feel everything" you whimpered out, fingers digging into the blanket beneath you.
He stays like that for a moment, heavily panting against your neck. Hands that kept your hips glued to his pelvis squeezing supportively.
You whimper softly, squirming beneath his weight. "Your squishing me..." You complain trying to push him off with little to no avail. You were about to complain more but he'd whisper something into your ear and though you're not entirely sure what he said, he sounded desperate.
"Mhmm what?" You mumbled internally cringing at the feeling of slick and cum oozing out of your hole.
"I love you." He whispered out, body already succumbing to sleep.
You stay silent for a moment a little smile on your face "I love you too." You whisper, fluttering your eyes shut for a moment. "Fujio you didn't fall asleep did you? You're still on top and inside of me." You asked, squeezing his shoulders lightly.
You never got that answer out of him. His soft breaths tickling your neck, You look up at the ceiling and let your mind fade, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep.
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divine-misfortune · 2 days
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I'll come back fo this. But. Breeding as a punishment. Alright goodnight.
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ausi-is-furry · 11 months
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Some practice drawing dogs :]
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boysbeloving · 2 years
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Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakul being Porsche Pachara Kittisawasd's 👶daddy
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